Rekindled Hearts. Brenda Minton
Michael never left God out of the equation. That made Colt a little itchy around his neck.
“We’ve got a lot to get done.” Colt stacked more blocks in the wheelbarrow.
“Snake.” Michael pointed. Colt wasn’t fooled. He’d already fallen for Lexi’s little joke.
And then it hissed. Colt jumped back, and Michael laughed. Lexi’s laughter was soft, a little husky. He glanced her way and tried to pretend the snake didn’t matter. It slithered away and he reached for another block.
“We’re having a Labor Day picnic here on Sunday after church.” Michael said it as if it meant something. “We could use some help with the grills.”
Of course. Colt had known it had to be something. “I can help. What time do you want me to be here?”
“Church starts at eleven.”
Colt glanced from his ex-wife to what could soon be his ex-friend. Colt hadn’t been to church since before the divorce. Since Gavin’s death.
His partner’s death wasn’t the only thing that had driven the wedge between him and God. Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten angry. He just hadn’t gotten it, the whole God thing.
He couldn’t forget an auction from when he was a kid, when land from his family farm had been sold off, piece by piece.
Church at eleven. Lexi watched him, teeth holding her bottom lip and blue eyes wide, waiting. He wasn’t going to make a promise that he might not keep. All of his life he had been proud that his word was good, it was solid. People could count on him to be there for them.
Sometimes he let them down.
“Colt, you don’t have to come to church.” Michael stacked another stone and moved away. “But you can be here to cook. You’re not getting out of that.”
“I’ll be here.”
Lexi was still looking at him, as if she wanted more from him. His radio crackled, and Bud’s voice filtered into his ear.
“I have to go. There’s a dog wandering in a field outside of town. It might be Tommy’s.”
“Let me know if you need me. If it’s a stray, I have room in the kennel.”
“The ark, you mean. That place of yours is starting to get attention from the city council.”
“The animals have to be taken care of. Maybe you should try the animal shelter idea on them again. This might help them to see how much we need a place for strays and unwanted pets.”
He brushed hair back from her face and found it easy to smile. “Don’t ever change, Lex.”
“I haven’t changed, Colt.” Lexi’s whispered words caught up with him as he walked away and he nodded, because he didn’t know what to say. And she was wrong. She had changed.
She was stronger than ever, proving she didn’t really need him.
Chapter Two
Colt drove out of town, in the general direction of the area where the dog had been spotted. As he drove, he could see the faded—and sometimes ripped—signs that Tommy had put up right after the tornado, when they first realized Charlie was missing.
Gregory Garrison had searched the area, looking for that dog. He’d even tried a new puppy. Nothing worked. Tommy only wanted the original Charlie. Colt didn’t blame the kid. That dog had been the boy’s family.
As he drove, he passed where Marie Logan’s body had been found. Colt had insisted on being the one to give Jesse the news about his wife. He remembered the look on Jesse’s face. The disbelief. Maybe a little betrayal. What a thing for a man to go through, finding a Dear John letter and then something like that happening.
Colt pulled up to the farmhouse that had once been beautiful and well maintained. Time and age had started the deterioration of the place. The storm had done the rest. The chicken houses that had helped provide when times were lean had been ripped off their foundations in the tornado and strips of sheet metal were blown across the county. Some of those pieces of metal were still wrapped around trees.
The old farmer came out of the house, bib overalls and work boots. Colt stepped out of his car and met the other man in the middle of the yard.
“Hey, Walter, how are you?”
Walter, worn and haggard, shrugged slim shoulders. “Seen better days, Colt. Seen better days. Drought last year and now this. It makes it hard to be a farmer.”
“Yeah, it does.” Colt looked around, at barns and outbuildings that looked as run-down as the farmer standing in front of him.
“I thought they’d send a county officer, not the town chief of police.”
“The city voted to extend the city limits out a mile, Walter. I can usually get here sooner than county, anyway. So, about that dog.”
“I seen a dog, back in the field. It was a shaggy brown thing. I heard in church that they’re still looking for that boy’s dog. I couldn’t remember what it looked like.”
“I’ll drive out through your field and take a look. But it doesn’t sound like Charlie. Walter, are you doing okay out here?”
His wife had passed away a year ago. His kids had moved off, finding jobs in town and giving up life on the farm. Colt remembered when he had wanted to trade farming for anything but farming.
“I’m doing all right.” But his gaunt appearance worried Colt.
“Are you going to keep the farm? Some of the people who took hits as hard as yours are talking about selling out.”
“Nah, I ain’t going anywhere. This is all I know. At least I have a roof over my head. It’s a little leaky now, but it’s a roof.”
“Leaky?”
“Well, seems it was damaged by the tornado.”
“Have you contacted your insurance?”
The old farmer sighed. “I did, but I guess there’s a problem with my policy.”
“Walter, did you tell anyone?” Colt’s face got a little hot.
“I tried to call some government office, but got put on hold. And you know I can’t hear on the phone.”
“Let’s take a look around this place.” Colt started walking and Walter followed, slower than he used to be, stepping a little more cautiously. How many older farmers like Walter were being ripped off or ignored?
As they walked, Colt realized that a window in the back bedroom of the old farmhouse was still busted and the little leak in the roof was big enough for a basketball to fit through. Shingles were gone from another section.
Someone had to get out here and do something. Colt should have done something. He just hadn’t realized. There were so many people needing assistance it was hard to keep up with who had been taken care of, and who hadn’t.
“Walter, I’m going to make some calls for you, but in the meantime, I’ve still got some tarps in my Jeep that I keep on hand for situations like this. Let’s get a tarp over your roof and a piece of plywood over that window.”
“I sure appreciate that, Colt, but you don’t have to. I called my boy, and he’s coming down in a week or two. He told me to call you, but I told him it could wait.”
“Walter, you should have called.”
The older farmer looked down at boots that were scuffed and worn. Those boots of his probably took on water just like the roof.
Colt pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I have to make a call, but how about a sandwich? I have a couple in my lunch box.”
“I can’t take your