“What if today was the last day we had?” Lexi asked.

As the tornado surged outside, she looked up at him and wondered why she had let him go so easily. The words were definitely more maudlin than she’d intended.

“At least we’re together,” he said.

“Together?” She shook her head. She knew without a doubt that she wasn’t over her husband. He whispered that he sometimes felt the same way and she smiled, even though she knew it wasn’t real. This wasn’t real.

But his arms around her were real. This was what happened when two people were afraid and they didn’t know if they would have a tomorrow. And if they did survive, they’d go back to living separate lives, careful to never really look at one another. But for this moment, with their lives hanging in the balance, she chose to not think about it, about tomorrow, and about losing him all over again.

BRENDA MINTON

started creating stories to entertain herself during hour-long rides on the school bus. In high school she wrote romance novels to entertain her friends. The dream grew and so did her aspirations to become an author. She started with notebooks, handwritten manuscripts and characters that refused to go away until their stories were told. Eventually she put away the pen and paper and got down to business with the computer. The journey took a few years, with some encouragement and rejection along the way—as well as a lot of stubbornness on her part. In 2006, her dream to write for Steeple Hill Books came true.

Brenda lives in the rural Ozarks with her husband, three kids and an abundance of cats and dogs. She enjoys a chaotic life that she wouldn’t trade for anything—except, on occasion, a beach house in Texas. You can stop by and visit at her Web site, www.brendaminton.net.

Rekindled Hearts
Brenda Minton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Special thanks and acknowledgment to Brenda Minton for her contribution to the After the Storm miniseries.

Then maidens will dance and be glad,

young men and old as well.

I will turn their mourning into gladness;

I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.

—Jeremiah 31:13

I would like to dedicate this book to my family, for understanding deadlines. To the editors at Love Inspired, for giving me the opportunity to do this story. To my agent, Janet Benrey, for being the best.

To survivors everywhere.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Questions for Discussion

Prologue

July 10

The patrol car cruised Main Street of High Plains. There was no breeze, just July heat and heavy humidity. A glance out the open car window confirmed what Police Chief Colt Ridgeway already knew. It was anything but a normal day. The air was too still and the sky had that funky green tint that set a guy’s nerves on edge and raised the hair on his arms.

Foreboding, there was a definite sense of foreboding with the town streets nearly empty at four in the afternoon and the leaves on the trees turned bottom up in advance of the rains that were coming.

Colt had been sitting in his car on a road at the edge of town, storm spotting. Now he headed for the police department connected to the fire station. Two of his officers were still posted on side roads, as were several volunteer firemen. From the looks of things, High Plains, Kansas, was in big trouble. The southern horizon was dark and the clouds rolled. A definite wall cloud had formed and he could see the rotation, even at this distance.

His scanner blasted the information about the latest warning and the tornado siren connected to the town hall went off. The sound blared loud and then soft as it rotated on the pole. Colt hit his siren and lights.

A dozen or more times a year they went through this same scenario, cruising the streets and neighborhoods of High Plains to warn the residents that a tornado had been spotted. If people couldn’t hear the tornado siren, he wanted them to hear the siren on his car.

His radio crackled and the voice of one of his officers, breaking up but discernible, blasted his ear. Colt lowered the volume.

“Go ahead, Bud.”

“Chief, it’s on the ground, ten or fifteen miles out of town.” A muttered comment from Bud.

“Take shelter, Bud.”

“God save…” The deputy’s voice faded.

“Bud?” No answer. Colt had to hope it was just interference. He really had to hope, because the kid was young and just out of the police academy.

Colt wouldn’t lose an officer. He shook his head, remembering the younger cop’s shortened sentence. God save us.

God wasn’t going to save them. Colt could have told the younger officer that he’d prayed more than once in his life, and he wasn’t sure God was listening.

Maybe this time?

Until God proved Himself, Colt would have to do the saving. The people of High Plains had entrusted him with that duty. He drove through a quiet neighborhood, his siren blaring, and headed back to Main Street. The wind picked up and he could smell rain. He could see the dark band of precipitation heading their way.

And above the wind and thunder, he could hear something else. A dog howling. Or he thought it was a dog.

He tried to listen, leaning out a little, but the wind was whipping and he had to put up his window. His radio crackled again. Bud’s voice broke, crackled and then dissolved into nothing.

The siren on his car blended in with the sound of the storm, the tornado siren and the barking dog. Colt glanced to his left, to the street that led to Lexi’s house. He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat, the lump that just thinking about her caused. And then it was fear, because he had to work and couldn’t keep her safe.

Besides that, she wasn’t his wife anymore. He had to let her go.

He had let go. Of course he had. Because he had to let her find happiness, a life that included her dream of having a family.

They had both moved on. He had even dated a little.

A newspaper blew, catching on the wipers of the car. Rain fell in sheets so heavy it was hard to see the street. Trees along the meandering High Plains River, barely a creek most of the time, were circling and bending as the wind picked up.

Ahead of him, just a few blocks away, Tommy Jacobs was riding a bike in the rain that was becoming a downpour. Who let a six-year-old out in weather like this? No way had Beth and Brandon Otis, the boy’s foster parents, let him out to play. That was just Tommy, always sneaking off with that old dog of his. He had probably been in the middle of doing what he loved most, annoying Gregory Garrison, when the storm hit. And now he was too far from home to make it safely.

Colt did a quick check of the horizon, confirming his worst suspicions. The black, swirling clouds were gaining ground, gaining in size. He could see the swirling debris. Trees in the park were leaning with the force of winds that pushed ahead of the storm.

Tommy was scrunched down on his bike and probably pretty scared and miserable. Colt hit the gas, because he had to get that kid.

Charlie, the dog, looked to be barking at the tires of Tommy’s bike. The dog wanted to go home, too. Colt hit the gas as his stomach tightened. The sky was darker. The wind blowing harder. The kid was leaning on his bike.

Colt hit the siren twice, hoping the boy would pay attention. The door to Gregory Garrison’s office opened, and the businessman grabbed the kid off the bike and hauled him inside just as it was starting to hail. Colt waved, breathing a sigh of relief. The kid would be safe with Greg and his assistant, Maya Logan.

The rest of the town was deserted. People had heeded the warning and taken shelter. He glanced toward the day care. The kids would be safe there. He didn’t see anyone outside. The only movement was on the city green, next to the gazebo. Colt’s dog, Chico. The stupid chocolate lab was barking at the storm as wind blew and a few small trees toppled.

Even the mildest storm, if it included thunder and lightning, caused the dog to lose it. Chico had one spot in the fence that he could dig his way out of. Since the dog couldn’t get inside Colt’s house, he was probably heading for Lexi’s.

The roar of the wind increased. He couldn’t see the funnel from where he was, but he knew that it was out there. And he had no idea where it was heading.

“God save us.”

He repeated Bud’s words, because he knew he couldn’t save himself. Dust filled the car, filling his nostrils with the scent of destruction and earth. His heart pounded and the sound roared in his ears.

He wasn’t ready to die.

He wasn’t going to let his dog die. He jumped out of the car and ran toward the dog, shouting his name, knowing the animal couldn’t hear above the roaring wind. A piece of metal flew through the air, bouncing off the ground and then into the air again.

Colt yelled at the dog. Chico turned and as he did, the metal hit his side and the dog fell.

The pull of the storm made it hard to move, hard to breathe. Colt leaned, pushing himself forward. When he reached the dog, he kneeled, breathing deep for a moment, giving his heart a second to slow its pounding rhythm, letting his lungs refill.

The rain had slowed, still heavy, but not pounding. Debris floated in the wind and fluttered to the ground. They were in serious trouble. The pieces of siding and insulation had to come from homes in the outlying areas. To the south he could see the form of a dark wall cloud. The air had stilled, but the storms weren’t over.

He had to get hold of Bud, or one of the storm spotters, to see what was happening outside of town. And they would have to notify the county officers to make sure they were in the area.

He keyed his mic. Nothing. He pulled his cell phone out, hoping for a signal. He still had one. That meant they still had towers standing. When Bud answered, he could hear the younger cop’s fear in his shaking voice. Colt wondered if he sounded the same.

“Bud, what’s it look like out there?”

“Bad, Chief. I saw a county deputy. He said there’s a tornado forming. It was on the ground for a while, and went back up, but it’s still there. I can see the rotation.”

“Okay, make sure the county emergency management has been contacted. You might want to contact the hospital and some of the other communities around here. If they haven’t been hit, we’re going to need their help.” He held a handkerchief to the wound on his dog’s side.

“Sure thing. Oh man, it’s on the ground again.”

“Bud, take shelter somewhere. When it’s over, we’ll do house-by-house searches. But stay safe.”

“Got it. You, too, ’cause it’s heading that way.”

Colt slid his phone back into his pocket and turned his attention back to the dog. “I’ve got to get you to Lexi’s before this hits.”

The wind picked up, blowing across the lawn. Colt glanced toward the High Plains Community Church. He could make it there. But two blocks away was Lexi’s house and veterinary clinic. Was she there, or out on a call?

He had to make sure she was okay. “Come on, Chico.”

But the dog wasn’t moving. “Buddy, don’t ask me to do this.”

The dog raised his head and looked up at him.

“Come on.” Colt scooped the sixty-pound dog into his arms. More blood oozed from the cut.

As the storm rolled toward them he ran across Main Street and down the road toward Lexi’s, and safety. And if she wasn’t home? He didn’t want to think of her out on the road, tending sick cows in the middle of a tornado.

Lexi stood in the entryway of her house, knowing that she shouldn’t be there. She should be back in the basement, where she’d gone after she had first heard the siren. But her heart wouldn’t let her go back, not until she knew if Colt was safe. She’d watched his car pass earlier.

She knew he would risk his life to save everyone else. He was all about saving other people. If only he had put that same care into their marriage.

He said he had divorced her to save her from heartache.

Whatever.

She knew that he had divorced her to save himself. He didn’t want to live his life worrying about her, worrying about what would happen to her if something happened to him. He had divorced her because he hadn’t been able to deal with the death of Gavin Jones, a deputy that Colt hadn’t been able to reach in time to save.

As mad as he made her, Lexi’s heart still ached when she thought of Colt, of loving him and losing him. She closed her eyes and leaned against the cool glass of the window.

She prayed he would be safe. This felt too much like their marriage, when she had prayed every night that he would come home safe. And one night, a few months after Gavin’s death, he hadn’t called to let her know he would be late.

He had found her on the couch, crying, afraid something had happened to him. That night had been the final straw for them both.

Now he was out there again. And she was afraid. Again.

It had to be bad. Debris littered her yard. Her power was out and the house was silent. No news on the radio, no hum of the fridge. Silence, other than the howl of the wind picking up again, and rain pelting the windows and metal roof.

“Please, God, keep him safe. Keep our town safe.” The wood door shuddered and heaved as the wind ripped across the Kansas plains.

She should go to the basement.

As she turned away from the door it blew open. And there he was, bloody and heaving as he carried their dog into the house. His dog. Chico had been hers, but after the divorce, he picked Colt.

The dog had broken her heart, too. Each time she’d bring him back home, the dog would run back to Colt’s.

“Colt.” She froze for a second and then came to life again, because the house shuddered and the wind outside had changed. It wasn’t blowing straight at the house the way it had. Windows on all sides seemed to be taking a beating from wind and rain, leaves sticking to the glass.

“Get to the basement.” Colt’s blond hair was rain-soaked and plastered to his head. A streak of blood marked his cheek. “Lexi, go!”

She ran down the hall to the door that led to the basement. She opened it and motioned him down. Before she could go, she needed supplies. She needed something for him, or the dog, whichever one was injured. Her clinic was on the lot next to the house. She couldn’t make it over there, not in this storm.

“Lexi, down here now.”

“I’m coming.”

She grabbed a few things from the kitchen counter and ran down the stairs, slamming the door behind her. She held the rail and took careful steps in the darkened basement, glad to see a sliver of light from the small window and then the bright beam of a flashlight Colt had found.

“I’m here, in the corner.” Colt’s voice, soft and firm. He never panicked.

Lexi bit down on her lip, listening to the crash and splinter of trees and the wind slamming her house. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest and she didn’t want this to happen, not this, not now.

Not when she was finally starting to get it together again. Total destruction was a perfect marriage crumbling into a nightmare of silence and loneliness. This nightmare she couldn’t take, not the town crumbling around her.

What was God thinking? Did He know she had been at the end of her faith rope and she was just beginning to climb back up?

Chico was on the table she used for folding laundry. His side was gashed open and blood oozed from the wound. She glanced up, making eye contact with blue eyes that had once danced with laughter.

When had Colt stopped laughing?

She searched through the supplies she’d grabbed, and Colt moved closer. He grimaced and held his left arm close to his chest with his right hand.

“Are you okay?”

He smiled, as if it didn’t matter. “Take care of Chico, I’m fine.”

A loud crash sounded above them and then shattering glass. She shuddered and paused, waiting to see if everything would collapse in on them. When the world calmed for a minute, she looked at Colt again, at the arm he held to his side.

“Of course you’re fine.” She touched his arm and he flinched. His face was bruised, as well. “What happened out there?”

Tight lines of pain around his mouth. “We’re taking a direct hit. I need to make sure the two of you are okay and get back out there.”

“Not until I make sure you’re okay. You look like you were in a car accident.”

“It was nothing like that. A tree limb hit my arm.” He wouldn’t tell her more. She knew he didn’t want her to picture what had happened out there. What was still happening. But she could hear it.

She cut into a sheet and ripped a strip of cloth away. She tied the ends and handed it to him. She wouldn’t put it around his neck. She couldn’t do that. Tight lips formed a smile and he slipped the makeshift sling over his neck.

A huge crash above them. Lexi jumped and shuddered, tingles sliding up her arms and through her scalp. She closed her eyes and waited.

“Lexi, it’s okay.” Colt’s voice, steady and calm.

She opened her eyes, and he was watching her.

“Of course it is.” She tried to smile but she couldn’t, not with the storm raging outside her home and fear tangling with adrenaline inside her heart. “The town falling in around us is okay.”

“We’re safe.”

She nodded, not really believing it. She’d watched the news all morning, watching national coverage of storms ripping across Kansas, taking lives, taking homes and dreams. She had prayed that it would stop, that it would turn away from them.

Chico whimpered and raised his head to look at her, his sad eyes pleading. Lexi smoothed his brown coat and examined the cut. “I’m going to give him a shot and then clean this out and sew it up.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Little-boy eyes in the face of a man. She nodded and looked away.

Last week she’d gone out with a farmer from a neighboring town. He had two children and dimples. She had liked him. He wasn’t complicated.

He wasn’t Colt.

“He’ll be fine. But he’s losing a lot of blood, and I don’t have an IV down here.”

“I’ll run upstairs and get one.”

“You can’t run upstairs. It’s too dangerous and you don’t know what I need.” Everything she said seemed to have a double meaning. She looked away from him.

“This isn’t the first animal I’ve tended to with you, Lexi. I know what you need. I’ll get it, and then if it’s clear enough, I need to get back to town. I need to make sure people are safe.”

“The storm.”

“Don’t worry.” He winked, as if it really was okay.

“I don’t want to be alone.” Honesty. She bit down on her bottom lip as he looked away. “I don’t want to die down here alone.”

“You’re safe, Lex. We’re both safe.”

She wanted to hold on to him, refusing to let him leave her alone. Instead she nodded, and she let him go. “Get what I need while I close this wound.”

And he was gone.

She listened to him upstairs, slamming cabinets. The wind pounded the house and something upstairs crashed. She shuddered because she knew it wasn’t Colt. He was tall and muscular, but not clumsy.

She sutured Chico’s wound, talking quietly to her dog, and praying they’d all survive this. Quiet tears slipped down her cheeks and she couldn’t brush them away with gloved hands. She used her arm.

But upstairs the wind was pounding her house and through the narrow basement window she could see debris scooting across her lawn. A crash vibrated through the house and she shuddered, hunkering over the silent dog. A quick glance at the window and this time she saw only tree limbs against the glass.

The door slammed. Wind wailed outside, roaring like a train about to come off the tracks. More glass shattering. And then the windows in the basement. Lexi ducked as a pipe in the basement ceiling fell.

It was an old house, and the upstairs hardwood floor and underlying support beams were the ceiling for the basement. Pipes and electric wires crisscrossed the big, open room, making it not the safest place to be in a tornado. She preferred the storage room in the far corner of the basement.

“Lexi, here it is.” Colt took the last step and was halfway across the room when the house above them splintered and crackled. “Run to the storage room.”

Colt’s voice was drowned out by the roaring wind. He reached them, grabbing the dog and pushing behind her. A board splintered and fell. Lexi tried to duck, but the board hit the arm she lifted to shield herself and then it hit her head.

Crashing and roaring filled her ears and the world tilted. Colt was behind her, pushing her forward.

“Don’t fall, Lexi. Keep moving.”

“I can’t.” She was dizzy and her eyes clouded for a second. Her legs buckled and she felt Colt’s arm against hers. Her ears popped and her lungs heaved for air. “I can’t.”

“Five more steps. You can.” He shoved with his shoulder and they were in the storage room, the door slamming behind him. The building shuddered around them.

A house over one hundred years old and today it gave up. Lexi cried because the house had history. The house had stood the test of time.

It was the one thing in her life that had been sturdy and unwavering. It had a history that she had wanted, of families growing up and growing old together. As she ran to the far corner of the room, she knew the house was falling in around them.

Her ears were filled with the sound of glass shattering and wood splintering, and behind her, the ragged breath of her ex-husband as he moved them to safety.

“You’re bleeding.” Colt laid the dog on the floor and glanced over his shoulder as Lexi dropped to the ground, leaning her head on her knees until her vision cleared. “Lexi, stay awake.”

“Don’t yell. My life is crumbling in around me and you’re yelling.”

“This is a house, not your life.”

She watched as he slid the needle into the dog, the way she’d taught him. She missed their marriage. She missed him in the morning, waking her up with coffee, his hair tousled and more blond in the summer than the winter.

She missed getting up later than him. He’d be gone, but the bathroom would still smell like his deodorant and his cologne. She missed his scent on her pillow.

Her head really hurt. She bent, resting her forehead on knees she pulled to her chest.

“Stop.” His voice was gruff, emotional.

“Stop what?” She looked up and blinked a few times. Pain throbbed and she touched her head. Her hand came away damp. She looked down at the blood on her fingers, mesmerized and confused.

“You’re talking about the past, about us, like this is the end. This isn’t the end, Lexi. We’re both alive.” Colt moved to her side, a folded towel in his hand. He dabbed at her head and then held the towel with pressure that made her wince.

“Not so hard.” She bit down on her lip and looked up, meeting blue eyes that connected with hers and didn’t look away. “I didn’t know I was talking.”

His laughter was soft and his eyes crinkled at the corners. He kept the towel on her head. “You were talking, and I’m honored. But you need to stay awake.”

“I’m awake.” She leaned back against the wall and thought she felt it heave with the pressure of the storm and the falling building. “You should be out there, helping other people.”

“I doubt I can do that right now. Let’s talk. I know you can talk, even when you’re tired.”

“And you always fall asleep when I’m talking.”

“Midnight isn’t the best time for heartfelt conversations.”

“When is the best time? Or is there ever a right time?” She leaned against his shoulder, her eyes focusing on the sleeping dog. “I love that dog.”

“I’m sorry. Lexi, let’s not talk about the past or the dog.”

“We don’t have a future, so what else do we talk about?” She felt a little sick to her stomach. He probably didn’t want to hear that. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Okay. It’s okay.” But he held her close, as if he was afraid she’d slip away. “Don’t go to sleep, Lex.”

“I’m not. It’s just a…”

“A cut.” He supplied the word. “Do you remember what day it is?”

“Tuesday?”

“Nope.” He moved and slid away from her. “It’s Friday, July tenth. I’m going to see if I can call for help, or get us out of here.”

“Don’t leave me.”

He paused, his hand on the door, his uniform covered in her blood and Chico’s. “I’m not leaving you, Lex.”

She would have nodded, but her head hurt when she moved. And hadn’t he already left her? Hadn’t he packed his bags and walked away? He shook his head, as if he knew her thoughts, and walked through the door. A few minutes later he was back. His clothes were now covered with white dust and dirt.

“Well?”

“We’re trapped, I don’t have cell service, and my radio isn’t working.” He slid down the wall and hooked his arm around her to pull her close. “The stairs are blocked with debris, and part of the basement has caved in.”

“You’ll save us. You always do.”

“I wish that was true.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m not sure how to get us out of this one.”

“You’re supposed to be positive.” She leaned forward, sick, and her head ached. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. We’ll be fine. We’ll get out of here.”

She closed her eyes and listened to a world that had become silent. The building groaned above them, creaking a little as the wreckage of her home settled. Warm tears slid down her cheeks. In the distance she heard sirens.

“Can you imagine if this is it for us? What if today was the last day we had?” She opened her eyes and looked up at him, wondering why she had let him go so easily.

“Listen, my optimistic sweetheart, that isn’t you talking.”

“It is me. I’m saying, what if this is how we told the story of our lives? That we gave up.” She leaned against him, her head aching and nausea twisting her stomach. The words were definitely more maudlin than she’d intended.

“At least we’re together.” He murmured into her hair and his breath was soft and minty.

“Yes, together?” Her eyes were getting heavy and she didn’t know if she could keep her promise to stay awake. “I’m so tired.”

“Lexi, don’t sleep.” He sat her up, shaking her a little.

“Don’t be so rough. I’m awake.”

“Lexi, you have to stay with me. You can’t go to sleep.”

“What if we don’t get out of here?” she whispered. “What if they don’t find us in time?”

“They’ll find us and we’ll get out and go on with our lives.” He held her close. “Hear that, sirens. Bud has called in the cavalry. They’ll find us.”

She shook her head and it ached, but Colt’s arms were around her. She wanted to think of nothing but sinking into the darkness, with his arms around her, and the knowledge that God wouldn’t let it end this way.

Her eyes closed and Colt gave her a gentle shake. When she whispered that she couldn’t stay awake, he told her she had to. And then he pulled her close, and his lips touched hers, gentle and persuading. He held her close, making her feel safe. Tomorrow she would deal with losing him again, but for tonight, it was enough to be in his arms.

Chapter One

Labor Day Weekend

The citizens of High Plains were getting back to normal. Or so they tried to say when they met for cleanup days and to plan community events. Days like today, when they planned to do more work on the town hall. The new Old Town Hall. It had been a building rich in history and a central part of the community. The tornado had leveled it.

Getting back to normal. The aftermath of the storm had left them anything but “normal.” Lexi knew it, so did everyone else.

With the media long gone, along with volunteers who had—understandably—gone back to their own lives, the people in High Plains and the surrounding area were still trying to put the pieces of their lives back together.

High Plains, Kansas, was nothing more than a two-minute clip on the weather station’s reel about deadly storms. But that clip didn’t mention Jesse Logan’s premature triplets, or the wife he’d lost. It didn’t talk about Kasey, the child Gregory Garrison had found at the Waters cottages. The weather station didn’t say anything about the people who had come to help, bringing food, supplies and prayers.

Those had been big stories for the first few weeks, and then they had faded out. Life had gone on. Other news, more current, had taken the place of those stories.

The weather station still showed the path of the storm, outtakes from local news and aerial shots from helicopters. Lexi hated to admit she’d watched it over and over again, still amazed by what had happened to her town while she’d been in her basement, safe in the arms of her ex-husband.

“Isn’t that sweet,” had become the catch phrase associated with the six hours she and Colt had been trapped down there.

People had asked if she and Colt had worked things out. There had been comments about God putting the two of them in that basement together. The only real outcome was that the two of them had made a decision to be friends. If they were going to live in the same town, friendship after two years of silence seemed like an improvement.

Lexi leaned against one of the few trees left standing in the yard of the Old Town Hall. The rest had been toppled in the tornado, along with half the town of High Plains. It was said that there wasn’t a building in town that wasn’t damaged in some way.

The lives of some of the citizens were not much better than the buildings. Including her own life.

They were all rebuilding.

Lexi closed her eyes, pushing aside those thoughts, instead enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun on her face and the distant sound of children playing. She hadn’t slept a lot last night. She rarely slept soundly, not in the metal building that housed her clinic. It was her house for now. She’d turned an unused corner into an apartment of sorts.

When she opened her eyes, her attention fell on those children that she’d heard. One of them was little Kasey. No one knew the identity of that poor little girl. They didn’t know her name, where she came from or even her birthday.

The town called her Kasey, because the initials K.C. had been found inside her clothes.

Lexi wiped away the tears that still fell too easily. Every time she said she wouldn’t cry anymore, something happened and the tears seemed to have a mind of their own.

A blue Jeep Cherokee cruised down Main Street and stopped in front of the construction site. Lexi watched Colt get out of the vehicle, his uniform starched and perfect as if he controlled even the wrinkles and made them bend to his will. He slipped on leather gloves and walked toward her. And her heart reacted. She didn’t want it to, but it did.

Six hours in her basement with him and she’d realized something—she hadn’t moved on. She realized that signing her name on a line didn’t undo her love for him. But realizing that the feelings still existed didn’t undo her fear that he might walk out on her again.

Her life had crumbled around her on that day in July. She could focus only on rebuilding one thing at a time. For now, she needed to rebuild her house and help rebuild her town.

Or move back to Manhattan, Kansas. That was her parents’ recommendation for starting over. And sometimes she thought it sounded like a good idea.

“What are you doing here?” Colt asked as he approached. Out of nowhere, Chico appeared. The dog must have been running loose again.

She slipped her hand over the dog’s head and down his neck. His side had healed with nothing but a scar to show for his injury. He still whimpered from time to time, but he was fine.

“Well?” He prodded, moving her from the past to the present.

“I’m assigned to town hall duty today. I’m stacking stones from the old foundation so they can be used in the new steps and the sidewalk.”

“Imagine that, so am I.”

“If they’re trying to push us together, it’s your fault for getting stuck in the basement with me.”

“I’m willing to let them talk.” He winked, proving his point. “Well, we’d better get busy if we’re going to have this building finished for Christmas.”

She nodded, because she didn’t know what to say. They had been assigned to the same job. She glanced in the direction of Reverend Michael Garrison, who had obviously planned this little encounter between herself and Colt. The minister had the good sense to turn a little red and walk away. People who had figured out the path to true love were always trying to help others find their way.

A smile sneaked up on her, because she couldn’t stay mad at Michael. Instead she pulled her gloves back on and walked away from Colt. He followed, as she had known he would.

“Time to get busy.” She grabbed a stone and stacked it on the pile for single stones, unbroken. Others were too far gone to use. Those pieces were being piled up to be hauled away, along with broken glass and wood that had been dozed into a pile that was awaiting a dump truck to haul it off.

“What about the wood flooring that is still intact?” Colt picked up a strip of stained wood that had once been the floor inside the town hall.

“We’re keeping those, too. They’re going to find a use for them inside the new building. I think the wood is being stored at Garrison’s, in the lumberyard.”

Colt set the board aside, his gaze sweeping the area. “We’re moving forward. They’re starting the framing of the building next week.”

“Yes, I know.” She didn’t look at him.

“How is your house?” He tossed a few pieces of crumbled limestone into the pile of debris that was growing larger and larger every day.

“They dozed it down yesterday. I found a contractor. He hauled in a trailer and he’s working in the area. He’s taken on several projects, so who knows how long this will take.” She ignored the look he shot her. He thought she didn’t know what she was doing.

“Did you check him out?”

“Yes, Colt, I checked him out. He had references.”

“I’m sorry, but you know how it is when something like this happens. Scam artists come out of the woodwork.” He nodded and pushed at some rocks with his booted foot. “Watch for snakes.”

“I know.” She glanced up, wishing that September had brought cooler weather. She took off her gloves and swiped her hair from her face.

“Are you mad?” he asked, with a characteristic male it-can’t-be-me attitude.

“No, not at all. But trust me that I can take care of this, of having the house rebuilt.” She turned, smiling and wishing immediately that she hadn’t looked at him. He was the son of a rancher and he looked as good in a uniform with a sidearm attached to his waist as he did in jeans and T-shirts, loading bags of grain into the back of a truck.

The uniform was unusual. It must have been a court day because on regular days he wore dark jeans and a dark T-shirt with Police in white letters across the back. She really liked that uniform.

“You are mad.”

His words were an unfair reminder that she shouldn’t be thinking of him in his uniform. She shouldn’t be thinking of him at all, except to be angry with him.

“I’m not mad.” She was confused and hurt. She’d spent six hours in a basement, wondering if they would get out and if they had let go of something they should have fought harder to keep. He didn’t want to hear that.

True to form, Colt grabbed the wheelbarrow and headed for the pile of rocks she had started earlier in the day. That was his way of saying they weren’t going to talk about it—discussion closed.

He dumped the load of stones, and then turned. “Lexi, I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do this?” She glanced around, at the stones, at the mess, knowing that wasn’t what he meant.

“We can’t go back. We have to move forward.”

She nodded, wondering if that meant he had felt something in that basement, too. Had those hours made him question their divorce? But he wouldn’t talk. She knew that, because this was as far as their conversations ever went. They wouldn’t talk about the divorce or their feelings for one another. They had never talked about Gavin’s death and what that had meant to their marriage or the family they had planned to have.

She couldn’t blame it all on him. Her own fears, the thought of losing Colt the way Gavin’s wife had lost him, had added to the problem.

She followed his gaze to the open green area between Main Street and the High Plains River. There were still piles of debris to be cleaned up. The path of the storm had been long and wide.

Lexi’s most recent phone bill had been found thirty miles away. Someone had called to let her know that it was being sent back. Others had found their family photos, tax documents and receipts scattered in fields and nearby towns.

All over town, people were starting over. They were rebuilding. Or they were moving on.

Lexi was sharing her home with animals that had been found wandering the area. Many hadn’t been claimed.

“We need to get to work.” Colt picked up a stone. “Don’t forget your gloves.”

She started to remind him that she wasn’t his to take care of. Instead she pulled on the gloves she had shoved into her pockets. What she wanted to do was remind him of their discussion in the basement. Even with a head injury, she hadn’t forgotten that they were going to stop fighting. They were going to be friends.

Colt moved closer, his gaze drifting past her and then back to her face. “Lex, there’s too much going on around here. We have a child without parents. Jesse Logan’s wife is dead and his babies had to fight to survive. We have a town that needs our help rebuilding.”

“I know. But, Colt, we can work together without it being weird. We really can be friends.”

He nodded and looked away again. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” She touched the scar at her hairline. “The headaches are gone.”

“Good, I’m glad. I’m glad your mom came to help you after you got out of the hospital.”

“She stayed a few days.”

“At least she came.”

Yes, Lexi’s mom had visited. And she’d spent three days telling Lexi what a huge mistake every detail of her life had been. Marrying Colt, a mistake. Becoming a veterinarian, bigger mistake. Staying in High Plains after her divorce, the biggest mistake.

Lexi smiled again. “Snake.”

Colt jumped and turned. No snake. He shot her a look and then he smiled. “Cute, real cute.”

“I still think it’s funny that you can square off with bad guys, brave a tornado, and yet you’re afraid of a little ole snake.”

“They bite.”

“Right.” She reached for a block. It crumbled in her hands and she tossed it into the pile of debris.

“Did you know that the town hall was destroyed by a tornado in 1860?” Colt pushed the wheelbarrow a few feet.

“I did know that. High Plains had to rebuild after that storm, and we’ll rebuild again. We’re tough people. We’re pioneers. It’s in our blood.” She wiped her brow. “And we have a lot of faith.”

“Yes, faith.” His voice turned sarcastic. “And God rewarded us with this.” A wide sweep of his arm took in the destruction that had once been a town.

“God didn’t do this, Colt. You know that.” She didn’t want to have the faith argument with him, not now. Hers was still too new, still growing.

“I know He didn’t. I just question why He allowed so many people to suffer, to be hurt.”

“No one has an answer to why bad things happen. But look at the people who were protected. He put Tommy in front of Gregory Garrison’s office at the right moment, in time to be saved. What if he had been somewhere else? What if I had gone to my basement? What if Chico hadn’t been running loose, and you hadn’t brought him to me? Where would you have been?”

“We still can’t find Tommy’s dog.” Colt said it like a last-ditch attempt at proving her faith wrong.

“I’m praying Tommy’s dog is out there. We’ve found other animals that we thought were lost for good.”

“That’s the difference between me and you, Lexi. You have faith that He really is up there, taking time for us. I look at this town and wonder where He was that day in July when we needed Him. I wonder where He was when Gavin got shot on that highway outside of town.”

“He was there with Gavin, and now Gavin is with Him.” She flinched against the anger in Colt’s eyes, but she didn’t back down. “And on that day in July, He was sheltering a little girl this town named Kasey, and watching over a boy named Tommy.”

“So He saved some and not others. Look at this ravaged building, right next to the church, but the church is still standing.”

“I think you lost that argument. The church is still standing. Solid. I think that sometimes bad things happen and we find faith to get through, to find purpose and to move on.”

“Is that what you’ve done, found faith?”

“Yes, I’ve found faith, Colt. I’ve found what I spent my childhood searching for.” And what she thought she’d find in a marriage to him. It had taken divorce for faith to become real in her life. “And whether you want to admit it or not, you still have faith. You’ve just buried it beneath anger and resentment.”

“I can’t have this conversation right now.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to preach.”

He laughed and leaned, his forehead resting against hers. “Yes, you did.”

No, she hadn’t. But it felt good, to be able to defend what she believed. Church was more than a place she went to hide. It was more than the fairy tale she’d believed in as a child, the place she went to, looking for a happy-ever-after.

Finding faith was the one good thing that came out of her divorce.

Colt knew that he should back away from Lexi. But he couldn’t. He had almost lost her in that tornado. Not a day went by that he didn’t think about that, and about his life without her in it. But she wasn’t really in his life, not now. He had made that choice, to separate and then divorce.

He stepped back, aware as always that she was beautiful. She was a city girl who wore blazers and scarves. She had come to him with everything, and nothing. She had wanted a family. And babies.

She wanted lots of babies.

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.

“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 lunch.”

“Nonsense. I stick it in there in case I get stuck on a call, but I didn’t need it today.” Colt opened the car door and pulled out the lunch box and grabbed a bottle of water out of the cooler in the back of his rig. “Go have a seat on the front porch and I’ll be right with you.”

He watched Walter hobble away and then he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Michael Garrison.

“Michael, this is Colt. I’m out at Walter’s farm….”

“Is it Charlie?”

“I haven’t seen the dog yet. But Walter really needs some assistance out here. I’m going to put a tarp on his roof and board up a window that got blown out, but he’s having problems with insurance. I’m not sure if he even has food.”

“I’ll get right on it, Colt. You’re a good man. And thanks for volunteering to cook on Sunday.”

“Volunteering my…”

“Foot,” Michael provided.

“Yes, my foot.” Colt ended the conversation. Sunday, church and Lexi. He’d rather walk on glass than face her and God on the same day, in the same place.

Sunday morning Lexi stood on the steps of the church, waiting, and still praying Colt would show up. People passed her on the steps, some smiling or saying hello, others involved in their own thoughts, or conversations with the person next to them. They didn’t notice her alone on the steps.

Standing there on the steps, she realized that more than the landscape had changed since the tornado. People had changed. Lives had really changed. She watched as Nicki Appleton, a preschool teacher in town, got out of her car with Kasey, the toddler that Gregory Garrison had found at the Waters cottages near the river.

The child held tight to Nicki’s hand, and looked for all the world as if they belonged together. What would happen to Nicki’s heart when the little girl’s family was found? Lexi didn’t want to think about that, or the pain the child’s leaving would cause.

Instead she focused on Heather Waters, standing next to Pastor Michael—as Lexi liked to think of the reverend. He just seemed more down-to-earth and reachable than the title Reverend implied. The two, Heather and Michael, had found love, lost love, after the tornado. They gave her hope for her own life, her own broken relationship.

And Maya Logan and Gregory Garrison. The two had fallen in love and were getting married. Two very different people, and the tornado had brought them together and made the differences melt away. They were going to adopt little Tommy and give him a forever family.

Footsteps behind her. Lexi turned in time to see Michael’s niece, Avery, slinking past her. The teenager looked as if she was up to something. The girl had been doing so much better since she came to High Plains to stay with Michael; the return of this sneaky side surprised Lexi.

“How is school going, Avery?” Lexi stopped the girl.

Avery’s mouth opened and she blinked, but then she smiled. She was a pretty girl, fresh-faced and not at all the dark teen she had tried to be at one time.

“Oh, good. You know, just hanging out.”

“I could still use help feeding dogs, if you’d like.”

“Umm, yeah, maybe sometime. Heather’s keeping me pretty busy.”

“Good. Well, maybe when you have more time.”

Avery nodded and darted off.

Lexi’s friend Jill walked out the door and stood next to her. They had prayed together the previous evening, not just for Colt, but for the community and the hearts and lives that were still healing.

“He’ll be here.” Jill squeezed Lexi’s hand. “He can run from God, but he can’t hide.”

“He didn’t say he would come to church.”

“But he might.” Jill, always optimistic.

Lexi smiled, but it wasn’t easy. Her life was hanging in the balance, waiting for the pieces to come together again. For a long time she had waited, thinking Colt would come back to her. As much as it hurt, she was starting to accept that maybe his coming home wasn’t the best thing for her. Last night, for the first time, she had prayed about moving on without him.

She still wanted him to have faith. Even if he wasn’t in her life.

Jill hugged her. “I have to get inside. Will you be okay?”

“I’m okay. I’ll be inside in just a second.”

“Okay. Gotta run, though. The choir is getting settled and I can see Linda looking for me. She’s not smiling.”

“She never smiles.” Lexi turned to look inside the church at Linda, who really was a happy and loving person. The choir was her place in church. She’d been there for nearly fifty years. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will.” One last squeeze of her hand and then Jill walked away.

Lexi stood in the doorway for a few minutes, waiting until the last second before she turned and walked inside. Colt hadn’t shown up. She shrugged off disappointment. Like so many other times in her life, she told herself that it didn’t matter.

People weren’t always there when you expected or needed them. She had learned that early on from parents who had been busy with careers; their child had been an afterthought. It had almost become that way with Colt and his job. He had been obsessed with catching the guy that shot Gavin.

Lexi sat down in her customary pew and opened the hymnal. Her vision blurred a little and she blinked to clear the mist. It was lonely, walking in by herself, watching families take their seats, settling children on their laps or next to them with crayons and pieces of paper or coloring books.

She had always wanted to be one of those families. As a kid she had gone to church with neighbors, the Clines, because her parents had been busy with their real estate business and hadn’t had time. Sundays her parents did brunch and talked to prospective clients.

The Cline family had been her ideal family. They had played basketball in the evenings, and they walked their dogs together. They had gone to church together every Sunday and every Wednesday. And when she had eaten dinner with them, they had joined hands and prayed.

She had wanted that family. For a lot of years that family, more than faith, had been what she longed for.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Footsteps caught her attention and then a movement and someone scooting in next to her. She looked up, swallowing delight and fear as Colt sat next to her.

“Stop looking at me like that, Lexi.” He reached for a hymnal and glanced at the one she held before flipping to the correct page.

For the first time in a long time, she had someone next to her. But she still felt alone. She was alone. Colt had a house on the other side of town and she had a divorce decree in her safe.

Colt sat through the sermon, his ex-wife next to him, and a couple of hundred pairs of eyes glancing occasionally in their direction. Due to the renewed attendance of the faithful, extra chairs had been hauled into the sanctuary to create more seating. Even Dan Garrison, Greg’s dad, was in attendance. Colt figured Dan had been out of church longer than he had.

The disaster of the tornado had brought out church members that hadn’t darkened the doors in years.

He knew because when he patrolled on Sundays he saw the overflowing parking lot. He had seen it before; a disaster brought new congregants, and the return of old. Some stayed in church. After a few months, most of them would go back to Sunday sports and forget promises to God.

Promises—to God, to Lexi and to himself. Those were the promises that Colt remembered. The day of the tornado, when Lexi lost consciousness for a short period of time, he had made some bargains with God.

He had made promises that he didn’t know how to keep.

He pulled at the back of his collar and moved in the seat as his attention wavered and then was pulled back to Michael Garrison’s sermon. The words were the same as so many other sermons, about trusting God in good times and bad. But there was some honesty that took Colt by surprise. Everyone has doubts from time to time. God can handle it. God can’t always undo the reality of life on this planet, but He can give us faith to get through. What we have to do is rely on Him, even when doubts arise.

Colt had plenty of doubts. He closed his eyes, remembering how it felt to drive up on Gavin’s patrol car that night, and to find his friend, a county officer, on the highway, bleeding—gasping for his last breath.

Powerless to help, Colt had cried out to God. He remembered that moment, kneeling on the highway, promising his friend things—promising to pray, promising to take care of a man’s wife.

He had made bargains that night, too. As if he could make deals with God.

A hand rested on his arm. He lifted his head and opened his eyes. Lexi sat next to him, real, breathing and no longer a part of his life. Not really.

“You okay?”

“What?” He looked around. The sermon was over, people were standing up.

“I asked if you’re okay. I know this isn’t easy.”

“But I’m here.”

“You’re here.” She looked far too hopeful.

“I’m here because I promised. And because I have to cook.”

“Poor Colt, always being held hostage by that sense of commitment you prize.”

“Sarcasm isn’t you, Lexi.” He stood and she followed him toward the back door. He had parked his car back there and he had seen the grills already set up and ready to go.

“Maybe it’s the new me.” Relentless, Lexi kept up with him.

“I don’t think so.” He turned, smiling because she looked pretty in the deep blue dress and high heels. She was thin and tanned, and her hair hung like silk past her shoulders.

“Any leads on the identity of the little girl, Kasey?” She asked the question out of the blue. But not. Of course she’d want to know about a child.

He opened the door for her, and she slid through. He followed, out into bright afternoon sunshine and dry, late-summer heat. The charcoal in the grills had been lit and a few men were already cooking burgers.

Colt opened a cooler and pulled out a box of premade hamburger patties. Lexi stood at his side, waiting for an answer.

“No, I haven’t learned anything. I put articles in papers from surrounding areas, and the national news covered it a few weeks ago.”

“I saw that. You would think someone would be claiming the precious little thing.”

“Her parents are out there somewhere. I just hope they’re…” He couldn’t say it. Lexi nodded; she understood. They all hoped and prayed that the child’s parents were alive.

But if they were alive, what did that say about them? A living, breathing, caring parent would have claimed her. Right?

Or grandparents.

“You’ll find her family.” Lexi broke apart a few frozen burgers. He placed them on the grill as she handed them over.

“I don’t know, Lexi. I feel like I haven’t done enough.”

“You always feel that way, Colt. You’ve done everything, and you’re still beating yourself up, thinking the whole world needs you to take care of it.” She shot him a dark blue look of accusation in eyes that shimmered and then didn’t.

She was a lot stronger than he’d ever given her credit for.

When they first met, back in college, he’d treated her like a china doll that needed to be taken care of. Now she took care of thousand-pound horses and wrestled with sick cows. Today she looked like a princess. Tomorrow he’d probably see her in that truck of hers, wearing a stained T-shirt, faded jeans and work boots.

He smiled and he hadn’t meant to.

Lexi smiled back. She backed a step away, a retreat, still smiling. She looked like someone who had just won a battle. He didn’t know what he’d lost or what ground she’d gained. But somehow it mattered.

“I’m going to help with the children. They’re blowing bubbles.” Lexi touched his arm, her hand sliding down to his, pausing there for a minute and then breaking contact.

“Okay.” He could have said more, but he would have stammered. Not the way for a man to prove he was in control of a situation.

He watched her walk away, pulling her hair back with a clip as she went. He remembered those clips and how he used to like to pull them loose as she leaned over her desk.

At one time he would have leaned over her and kissed her neck, and she would have smiled, but pretended to ignore him.

“Colt, your grill’s on fire.”

Startled back to the moment he reached for the spray bottle of water and squirted the flaming coals. A quick glance over his shoulder and he saw Lexi turn to smile at him.

Lexi smiled as she watched Colt with the spray bottle, putting out the fire that had erupted in the grill. She liked seeing him not in control of a situation. He got a little scattered when it happened, because it happened so rarely. When he looked back at her, she nodded and turned away. Happy, because she had been the one to scramble his self-control.

She skipped away to the area where children of all ages were playing with all different types of bubble-blowing contraptions. In the open lawn area of the church others were flying kites and throwing Frisbees.

“Why the frown when you were smiling a few minutes ago?”

Jill. Lexi glanced at her friend who had left the small group she’d been talking to and was now at Lexi’s side.

“I didn’t mean to frown.” Lexi looked around the lawn at the people, and past to the buildings that were still damaged. “If you could focus on just this one spot, on the people having fun here, you could fool yourself into believing the tornado never happened.”

“I know. Sometimes I look out my window and it’s like I live somewhere else, somewhere other than the town I grew up in.” Jill smiled at a little girl who ran up to them with an unopened bottle of bubbles. “Do you need for me to open it?”

The child nodded, and Jill opened the bubbles and handed them back. The little girl scooted off, and Lexi didn’t know where else to go with the conversation, not when her mind kept turning back to the six hours in her basement with Colt holding her close.

Six hours that had given her hope that maybe, just maybe, she and Colt could work out their problems and rebuild their marriage.

As the workers dug them out that night, Colt had stayed by her side. He had held her close, whispering reassurances. He had stayed with her until they loaded her into the back of the ambulance. Alone, it had been hard to remain optimistic, believing his whispered promise.

She could still close her eyes and see his face in the window of the ambulance and hear the hand that had hit the door, giving them the okay to pull away. And when she woke up in the Manhattan hospital, it had been her mother’s face, not Colt’s.

Nothing had changed in that basement.

Let it go, she told herself. Today was a day of rebuilding, not reliving the past. Moving forward, that was the sermon’s title. Moving forward, knowing God is still in control and still able to answer prayers.

She had to let it go, because she still wanted more than Colt could give her. She wanted to be somewhere on the top of his list of priorities, not the person that came after everyone else.

She didn’t want to be the person waiting, wondering if he would come home.

It was hard to put that into words. In their marriage, she had failed to explain it to him. It had come out as accusations. She knew that, now. Too late.

“Come on, let’s play horseshoes.” Lexi’s friend Jill nudged her from the memories.

Jill, in her prairie skirt and boots, was a cowgirl. The real deal, not the city kind, like Lexi. Jill could rope, shoot a gun and make cheese. Of course she would beat Lexi at a game like horseshoes.

“I’m not sure about horseshoes,” Lexi admitted. “I’m better at blowing bubbles.”

Jill reached for a bottle of bubbles on a table. “Go for it, then. But I see a certain cowboy that I’ve been after for about ten years. You blow bubbles and I’ll see you later.”

“Watch out for that cowboy,” Lexi warned. “He’ll break your heart.”

Jill shrugged and danced away, her skirt swishing around her legs.

Lexi dipped the plastic wand into the bubbles and drew it out. Rather than blowing, she waved it in a circle. Huge bubbles flew through the air, floating and then landing on the grass, some popping midair.

Children ran around, hands out, trying to catch the illusive bubbles. Little girls with pigtails and boys with crew cuts.

“Lexi, I need to ask a favor.” Michael Garrison walked toward her, weaving his way through the crowd of bubble-blowing children, who now saw him as a target. He laughed, swatting at bubbles and ruffling the hair of the children surrounding him.

“Okay, a favor.” She felt a little sick to her stomach, because he had that smile on his face. He was up to something.

“We’re trying to match pets with people. I know you’re about full over at the clinic, and a few other folks in town are taking in strays, so I thought this might be a way to match up lost pets to owners, or adopt them out. We might even do a rabies clinic while we’re at it, just to make sure the pets are immunized.”

It sounded good, but that mysterious twinkle in his eyes was another matter altogether. Lexi looked from Reverend Garrison to Colt, and wondered if there was a connection between them and this pet-matching project.

“If you’re too busy…” Michael Garrison caught a bubble and it popped.

“What day and I’ll make sure that I’m not.”

“Next Saturday.”

“Here at the church?” She looked around, and it didn’t take long to realize that this was about the only place in town for a project like this one.

“Yes, at the church. We’re trying hard to make this a comfortable place for people, so they feel good about coming and bringing their families. We all need to heal.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Oh, and don’t forget the lost-and-found room. It’s been filled up and emptied two or three times since it started. I know you lost so much….”

Lexi nodded, and she didn’t cry this time when she thought about the house she and Colt had picked and furnished together. Most of her belongings had been destroyed, everything but a few pictures and a box of jewelry that had been her grandmother’s. Even her wedding pictures had disappeared.

And her wedding ring set. She tried not to think about the engagement ring that Colt had put on her finger so many years ago, or the wedding ring they had picked out together. They’d been in a box in the hall closet.

Michael was still standing next to her.

“No sign of the Logan ring?” Lexi placed her bottle of bubbles into the hands of a little blonde with large blue eyes and dimples.

“Nothing. Some jewelry has shown up, but not the ring. Or Tommy’s dog.”

Tommy. Her gaze lingered on the boy, whose hand was held by the strong and powerful hand of Gregory Garrison. Now that was a wonderful tribute to God’s care for the little ones.

“I know. I’ve had my eyes out for that dog.” Lexi turned her attention back to the reverend. “Is it wrong to pray that a dog comes home?”

Michael shook his head. “I don’t think so. Remember ‘All Creatures Great and Small.’”

“‘The Lord God made them all.’”

“And not only does He care about that dog, He cares about broken hearts.”

Lexi looked up, shocked by the words. Her surprise must have registered. Michael smiled. “Tommy’s heart, Lexi. That dog was his family when he didn’t have one. I know he has one now, but the dog is still important to him.”

“Yes, of course.”

Michael shifted, looking away for a moment before looking back at her, a reverend again, not a young man, uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Don’t give up.” He said it with conviction and she was lost, because there were several things she could tag with that saying.

“Give up?”

“On Colt.”

She blew out a sigh and looked away. “We gave up two years ago, Michael.”

But she could admit to herself that in the crumbled remains of her house—that night in the basement—she had wondered if they could work things out. She had wanted him to stay with her that night.

And he had repeated history by sending her off in the ambulance alone. Alone.

She didn’t want that to be the epitaph of her life: She Loved a Man, But Was Always Alone. Yuck, how depressing. But looking around High Plains with crumbled buildings and shattered lives, she put her marriage in that category. Some things couldn’t be rebuilt. Like her marriage, they were beyond fixing.

“Where there’s faith, Lexi, there’s hope.” Michael still stood next to her, and his smile was soft but firm.

“Of course.” She remembered Michael’s sermon of two weeks ago. God doesn’t make mistakes. He isn’t taken by surprise, either.

Her marriage hadn’t been a mistake. She still believed that God had brought her and Colt together. The divorce was another matter altogether. But it hadn’t been her choice. She’d let Colt go, because she knew that she couldn’t force him to stay.

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