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“Crash in Noah’s room; you don’t need to be driving back to your place.”
I nodded, too tired to argue.
Grace and Noah trailed along behind us, dead on their feet. When we walked into the house, Alice had a full spread, hot and ready on the table.
“Good timing.” She looked over her family with the concerned eyes of a mother, and a part of me was suddenly wistful. When her eyes turned to me, it was like her warmth enveloped me as if I was a part of her family.
But it was fleeting. This wasn’t my family.
I thought of Kinsley, and my heart ached. I wanted her in my arms.
Chapter 40
Broken Halos - Chris Stapleton
Wyatt
Iwoke late the next morning to find Mr. Harper outside, engaged in a discussion with the insurance adjuster. Grace and Noah were on the porch watching.
“You’re up. You slept through half the day,” Grace teased as I joined them.
I rubbed my eyes, still experiencing the drag of exhaustion from the storm and the fire. “Guess I needed it,” I admitted as I sat down next to Noah.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. It was only 10 AM, hardly half a day gone. I also noted that I had no calls or messages.
Noah elbowed me. “You missed Dad’s showdown with the insurance guy. It was something to see.”
I glanced at Mr. Harper animatedly explaining the extent of the damage to the insurance adjuster, who listened while occasionally jotting down notes. “Looks like they’re figuring things out.”
Grace nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s a relief. The insurance will help, but it won’t replace everything. We’re going to have to rebuild and find more hay.”
Watching Mr. Harper and the adjuster, I realized the magnitude of the challenges that lay ahead. Rebuilding the barn and recovering from the losses seemed impossible.
After the insurance adjuster had finished his assessment and left, Mr. Harper joined us, his expression tight. “Well, it’s not everything we hoped for, but it’s a start. We’ll get through this, like we always have. Now, I need to make some calls to hay suppliers,” he said, the stress clear in his voice.
It was hard enough to get the bare minimum of hay needed, never mind more after losing that much.
Grace, Noah, and I began sifting through the debris, although hope was slim that the fire had spared anything. The barn, once filled with dry hay, had stood little chance against the flames.
It wasn’t long before vehicles started pulling into the farmyard; word had gotten around the community about what had happened, and people were showing up to help with whatever they could.
All day, friends and neighbours worked to clean up the fire site. Alice kept food and cold drinks flowing from the kitchen to the yard, feeding every person who showed up.
“Grace!” Alice called out at one point. “I need you to run to the store! I’m running out of everything!”
“On it, Mom!” Grace hurried off.
“Wyatt, come drink something. You look parched,” Alice then shouted to me.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I put down the shovel I was using and wandered over to the porch. My mouth was dry and coated in dust. I grabbed the pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade Alice had left out and poured a glass. I sat down beside Mr. Harper, who had also been forced into taking a break.
The sun was hot as I took a sip of the lemonade. It was a welcome relief from the heat.
“Thanks for the help, son.” Mr. Harper wiped sweat from his forehead with a worn cloth.
I nodded in response. “I can’t believe all these people showed up to help.”
Mr. Harper chuckled, his gaze sweeping over the busy scene around us. “If you have the ability to help someone in need, you do it. That’s the way things work around here, what community is all about. They all know we’d do the same for them in a heartbeat.”
