Rekindled Hearts

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Rekindled Hearts Page 2

by Brenda Minton


  “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 ca
n 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.

 

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