Page 37 of The Texas Hero's Homecoming

The following morning,Sam walked into the veterans’ meeting hall and spotted Mike Rendell at his usual table, facing the back wall. He had a sketch pad in front of him as usual and he was working diligently on a picture. Sam closed the distance between them and looked over Mike’s shoulder at the artwork he was intent on drawing. It was the scene directly out the window, the Last Stand street and a tall oak tree that sat front and center on the road. The tree was a Last Stand trademark, too historic to tear down and so the tree remained in the middle of the street protected by a narrow patch of cement that surrounded it.

It was the first time Sam laid eyes on his artwork. “Impressive,” Sam said.

“It’s just amateur stuff.” Mike didn’t look up. He kept on sketching.

“I don’t think so. You’re good, Mike. How long have you been sketching?”

Mike swiveled his wheelchair around and looked up. “On and off, all my life.”

“You’re talented.”

Mike shook his head and shrugged. “It’s just a way to pass the time.”

It was obvious Mike didn’t like talking about his art and Sam changed the subject. “I didn’t see your name on the sign-up for today,” Sam said. “To help out at the Messina farm.”

Mike’s face reddened. “Yeah, as if I could actually help.”

“Why not?”

His shoulders stiffened and he gestured to his wheelchair. “You’re looking at why not.”

“Am I? I don’t see it that way. I would think that you’d be valuable help. And isn’t your boy in Autumn Messina’s class? Wouldn’t he like to see you helping his teacher?”

Sam held his breath. He was pushing Mike hard, but in his gut, he felt the guy needed a nudge in the right direction.

“Look. I can’t help, okay? That’s why I come here practically every day. So, I won’t be a burden on my wife. She’s got enough to do without having to deal with me. And no, I don’t have PTSD. My injury wasn’t battle related. I got into a car accident on the base, for Pete’s sake. And got pinned under my car. Lost my leg.”

“Well, then you’ve had it better than most disabled vets.”

Mike blinked and gave him a hard stare. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do. But don’t waste your time with me. I have nothing to offer the Messinas.”

“Really? You’re an artist. And a darn good one. We need banners and decorations for the dance. Not to mention, you’d be an asset in the art booth with the kids. You could teach them how to paint all their favorite fall things.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been to the Messina’s fall festival. They’ve never had an art booth before.”

“You could start a new tradition. Think about it, okay?”

Mike didn’t answer. Or maybe he did. He turned his wheelchair around, dismissing Sam.

Sam pursed his lips and sighed quietly. He wasn’t giving up on Mike.

He walked outside and met up with the men who’d volunteered. There were a few others on his sign-up list today and he gave directions on the front steps of Veterans Unite, giving out their assignments for the day.

Sam started up the truck and turned on the radio to his favorite country station, but he wasn’t in the mood to sing along today and that had mostly to do with Autumn. She had a warrior’s spirit and he hated to see her give up on the farm. True, he hadn’t been here all that long, but he believed she’d done everything in her power to keep the farm going and as soon as the fall festival was over, she’d have to sell. She’d move to town and, funny, but he couldn’t picture Autumn living in an apartment or a small house. It didn’t suit her. As long as he’d known her, she’d lived on a bountiful amount of land in a sprawling rustic farmhouse.

They’d had animals back then too, pigs and goats and two dogs. There was even a stray cat who’d come to visit now and again. Autumn insisted on feeding it, claiming it was scrawny and needed to eat. She was a nurturer, a woman who cared about everyone. That was probably why her students adored her.

The phone call she received last night from that guy, Jared, added to his sour mood. His stomach twisted when that call came in, which was crazy and ridiculous. He had no claim on Autumn, no right to be jealous. But he was and he could admit that to himself, but he’d never voice it. Not to her. Not to anyone. Yet, the thought of her dating someone didn’t sit right with him. Not that she didn’t deserve happiness. It was just that, more and more, he wanted to be the one to provide it to her. All of this started out as a way to ease his conscience, to repay a debt he felt he owed Joe for saving his life. But lately, it was becoming more and more about his “friendship” with Autumn.

Could he stand on the sidelines and just be her friend?

“The Right Girl for Me” blasted through the radio, the lyrics of the country tune hitting a little too close to home. He pushed the button and changed the station to a talk radio show. Yeah, he’d listen to the financial wizard talk about cash flow and how to secure your future all day long, if it meant not having to think about pretty Autumn Messina.

And his growing feelings for her.

*

When Autumn pulledup to the house after her day at school, Sam was on the porch steps talking with her dad. Both men were smiling, and it did her heart good to see Papa looking so happy. She would dwell on that joy for now and not allow any negativity in.

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