Rekindled Hearts

His guilt, over not getting to Gavin on time, had been a wedge that drove them apart. He had faced God with anger. She had retreated into faith, believing everything would be okay.

He hadn’t wanted to fail her, not Lexi with her silky brown hair that hung in a curtain past her shoulders. She parted it on the side and it had a way of falling forward when she worked. It was the sweetest and the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He sighed and moved away from her.

“Colt, don’t walk away.”

He walked back to her side, took her hand and led her away from the building site where curious eyes watched and a few people whispered and nodded in their direction.

He knew what those people were saying. The whole town was talking about the two of them getting back together. As if it meant something to find them buried in that basement together.

“Remember what you said on our first date?” He let go of her hand.

“I wanted a real family, the kind that went to church together and took walks. I was a kid, Colt. I had dreams of what a perfect family looked like. I didn’t know then what I know now, that there’s more to it.”

“And I promised to give you that family.” He hadn’t.

A few years ago, they had been talking about having children. Colt had embraced the idea, picturing a little girl with her eyes and his hair. Or maybe the other way around. Definitely a girl with Lexi’s heart.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned as Reverend Garrison walked up. Reverend. It was still hard to call Michael by that title.

“Hey, how are the two of you doing over here?” Michael picked up a stone and stacked it on the pile. “Some of these stones are engraved with dates of the first settlers’ weddings. If you see them, try to separate them. I think they would be perfect for the landscaping project.”

Colt didn’t answer. He gave his friend a look and went back to stacking blocks. Michael had found a way to remind Colt that he and Lexi had been married here.

“We’re just reminiscing, Michael.” Lexi smoothed her hair back from her face and gave Colt a look that he’d seen before.

“There’s a lot of that going on.” Michael Garrison stopped working and pulled off his gloves. Colt ignored his matchmaking friend. Michael had brought up—more than once—that Colt and Lexi had spent six long hours stuck in that basement, the two of them and God. Maybe that had been God’s way of giving them time alone to work on their relationship.

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.