Spring turned into summer. The wheat grew tall. The corn tasselled. The sunflowers turned their faces to the sun like worshippers. New Heartland was no longer just a settlement. It was a beacon. Smoke signals rose from the hills—not the black smoke of diesel, but the white smoke of wood fires. Signals of peace. Of invitation.
Ezra sat on his porch. The cane leaned against the railing. He didn't need it today. His legs felt light. The air was warm. Bees buzzed in the lavender bush near the steps. He watched them. They worked without orders. They built without blueprints. They were the perfect gardeners.
A wagon approached. Not the armored car from the Mountain. A wooden wagon. Drawn by oxen. Slow. Steady.
Ezra didn't stand. He waited.
The wagon stopped at the gate. Tomas opened it. He w
