Peace in the Valley

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Sorry, Trey.”

  “Cowboys only fight when there’s no other choice. One way or another, trouble finds us soon enough. Doesn’t make much sense to start extra.”

  “ ’Kay.”

  Lucy had let go of his arms, and he kind of wished she’d grab hold again and talk to him about anything she chose. She didn’t. She eyed him and the boys, then him again. “Neat trick.”

  “Cowboy discipline. Comes from within, ma’am.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t object to more of that self-restraint stuff at home, that’s for sure.”

  “You’re one on four, Lucy. Rough odds at times. For all our crazy growing up, we had Murt and Hobbs watching out for us, teaching us along the way. And a housekeeper putting food on the table. And work or fun, morning till night. Your role has more constraints, and that’s not easy.”

  “I’m not feeling sorry for myself.”

  “Whoa, Ms. Lucy, don’t get all up in arms. I didn’t mean to imply that,” he replied. “I’m just saying there was a whole crew on the Double S to teach us from little up. And plenty of work for idle hands. I think it helped.”

  “So we’ve decided?” The salesman had been discreet while they talked. He approached them now with an expectant expression.

  Trey turned to Lucy. “Is this the one?”

  “Yes.” She looked amazed and downright sweet when she sent a smile his way. “It’s wonderful.”

  “It’s green.” Trey reminded her of their former conversation with a skeptical look. “I distinctly recall—”

  “I’ve grown to like the green actually. And it will look good against the red barn.”

  “Bring the kids in while we do paperwork,” the salesman suggested. “There’s a playroom they might like.”

  They not only liked it, they played for fifteen minutes without a squabble while Lucy and Trey completed the deal.

  Sheer joy came first…

  And then trepidation.

  That’s how Trey would describe Lucy’s face when the sales manager handed her the paperwork. She looked at the papers, then the van, then Trey. “I’m still not sure this is right.”

  “It’s absolutely right,” Trey assured her. He turned toward the excited kids. “You guys want to ride back home with Mom in the new van?”

  Cody and Belle jumped at the chance, but Cade tugged Trey’s sleeve. Trey squatted to his level. “What’s up?”

  “Can I ride with you? Please?”

  Trey’s heart went kind of loose, and he couldn’t remember the last time it did that. He nodded, touched by the boy’s choice. “Sure. Hop in.”

  He did. Trey made sure his belt was fastened securely, then turned to open Lucy’s door for her. “Can’t drive home without getting in, Ms. Lucy.”

  “Trey, I—”

  He leaned close. Real close. Then he touched her hand lightly. “Last Saturday could have been worse. Much worse. Let me do this as a way of saying, ‘I’m real glad you were okay,’ because nothing is more important than that, Lucy.”

  She studied his eyes, and for a moment he wondered what she saw, but then she swallowed hard, reached up, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  No flirting, no teasing, just that, sweet and simple.

  His heart stretched wider. He held the door and she climbed in and turned the engine on.

  And then he followed her home, with a little cowpoke tucked in the back seat, a boy that seemed to really like having him around. Cade’s joy at being with him was a complete surprise and pure bonus because it was the last thing Trey’d expected.

  She’d kissed him.

  Oh, sure, it was a peck-on-the-cheek kind of thing. He knew that.

  But he liked making her smile. He liked inspiring contentment. With four kids to handle and a house and farm, he was pretty sure Lucy had been too busy raising a family to worry about herself. And he suspected her late husband hadn’t made it a priority either.

  Was he wading in too deep? Cowboy code said you didn’t flirt with a single mom unless you meant it. Did he mean it? Like, seriously mean it?

  A little soon to tell, isn’t it? Stop rushing things, focus on the work you’ve got to do, and let life and God take care of the rest. You sing about that all the time. Now it’s time to do more than sing, cowboy. Time to take your own advice.

  The sage advice hit home. He turned onto I-90, determined to get as much work done at Lucy’s as he could fit into the days because if something happened to him…

  If for some reason he wasn’t around to finish what he started…

  He lifted his chin, determined.

  He’d get done what he could before the liver surgery. Sam had always been big on finishing a job, not leaving things half-done. He was right, and Trey aimed to do just that for the next-door neighbor. And if his work earned him more of those sweet smiles?

  Well, that wouldn’t be a bad thing either.

  Ashley stared at Lucy as if she’d gone over the edge when Lucy proposed her brilliant idea that afternoon. “You want me to bake something? It’s like ninety degrees. No one bakes when it’s hot like this.”

  “I agree, and I should have said ‘make something’ instead,” Lucy replied. She kept her voice easy, hoping Ashley would do the same. “They need desserts at the food line for the workers, and you like making things, Ash. You always have.” She sent her an encouraging look and opened the nearby cupboard. “You could do a Jell-O dessert. We’re stocked up on all kinds of flavors. Or how about those peanut butter bars everyone loves? No baking required.”

  The idea of the peanut butter bars seemed to tempt the teen, but then she shrugged it off. “I’m not into it.”

  “What are you into, Ashley?” Lucy kept her voice soft as she faced the troubled girl. “You used to like so many things, making things, doing things, playing with the Murphy girls.” The Murphys were Maude’s neighbors, and they had three tween and teen girls. “What’s changed?”

  Ashley stared out the window, then angled a too-tough look at Lucy. “My life. Chase is gone, my mother’s a loser who couldn’t stay straight for a day if it killed her, and I can’t do the stupid schoolwork they want me to. I’d rather die than try, and now I’m stuck here, with you and three little kids who never stop whining. You wanna know why I don’t hang out with the Murphy girls anymore?” Angry tears looked close to overflowing, but Ashley brushed them away. “Their parents won’t let them be friends with me. I’m a bad influence, and they aren’t even allowed to sit near me on the bus.”

  Should she say something? Or just listen?

  Lucy had no idea, but it didn’t matter because Ashley turned around and stomped up the stairs, but before she slammed her door, she yelled, “Make your own stupid cookie things!”

  Lucy saw her pain. She remembered what it was like to be betrayed by a parent, a father who had no love for his wife or his little girl. She understood the gravity.

  Trey had called Maude toxic, and he was right, but Ashley was pretty venomous herself right now. How could Lucy help her without jeopardizing her three kids? Or was she looking at an impossible task?

  You have friends, people who know more about this. Call Angelina, see if she and Elsa have any advice.

  She took the cordless phone outside. Belle had organized a doll orphanage on the side porch. The boys weren’t fighting. They’d actually set up a make-believe “saddle” on a loop of fence and were pretending to be cowboys, like Trey. And Trey was putting the final new board in place on the south side of the barn. The clean, pristine beige of the new wood stood out against the old siding.

  “A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you…”

  Ezekiel’s words, so apt.

  She wanted that new heart, and the uplifted spirit that went with it. Attaining it was another matter. She dialed Angelina’s number before she chickened out, and when Ange answered, she got right to the point. “I need advice from you and Elsa. Is she back from visiting her parents yet?”
<
br />   “She rolled in a few hours ago. Come over now.”

  “But—” Now? She couldn’t go now. She had kids to watch and things to do.

  “Tell Trey to keep an eye on the kids. Doesn’t pay to wait, Lucy.”

  Pragmatic and to the point, that was Angelina, and exactly what Lucy needed. And a touch of Elsa’s common sense but gentle psychology as well. “I’ll see if he minds.”

  “He won’t.” Angelina hung up before she could say any more, and Lucy crossed the stones reluctantly. She hated asking for help. She particularly disliked asking for help from a man.

  She swallowed her pride, approached the scaffold, and looked up.

  He’d swiped a rag to his forehead and was grabbing a long drink of water.

  Amazing. Total male, stem to stern, broad shouldered, narrow hipped, legs braced. Standing there, framed by slabs of golden wood.

  She didn’t want to think that, but no one looking at Trey Walker on a scaffold, in a white T-shirt and faded, loose jeans, could be immune. She bit back self-recrimination, and when he noticed her, he smiled.

  Oh, that smile.

  Tune-crooning country cowboy to the max, with a late-day dusting of beard.

  “What’s up?” He crossed the scaffold, swung down the ladder, then hoisted the ladder and hung it just inside the barn, out of the boys’ reach. “You’ve got that look on your face, Lucy.”

  “I’m not sure what that means, but I’d like to run over to the Double S and talk to Angelina and Elsa about Ashley. I can’t leave the kids. Could you—”

  “Hang out for a bit?” He finished the sentence for her. She figured watching out for a bunch of kids was probably the last thing he wanted to do after being up on a scaffold, working in the hot sun. “Glad to. I’ll take a seat on that porch with Miss Belle and grab a glass of that iced tea. Can’t think of a better way to end the day actually.”

  He couldn’t mean it, but he looked like he meant it.

  So did Chase and just about every honky-tonk and tavern musician you know. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

  “Thank you. Ashley is upstairs.”

  “She didn’t take right off with that whole baking idea, I take it?”

  “I believe she was actually insulted by the suggestion.”

  “Teens can be a tough lot.”

  Was it memories or sympathy that marked his gaze? Maybe both.

  “Go see what the ladies have to say,” he continued. “I’ll be here when you get back. Mind if I grab a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while you’re gone?”

  Such ordinary food for an extraordinary man. “Of course not. I should have offered you some earlier. It felt weird offering PB&J to a country star.”

  He tipped his gaze down. “The name’s Hank, ma’am. And I grew up on PB&J not too far from here, true words. That’s some mighty fine eats.”

  Charming. Kind. Caring.

  She couldn’t help but smile, and he winked when she did, which put her belly or her heart or something midsection into a tailspin.

  “You go ahead; I can find the stuff.”

  “All right.” She started for the house to get her keys, then remembered.

  She didn’t need a regular key.

  She walked to the van, climbed in, and started the engine. It purred, and when she shifted gears, nothing clunked.

  Smooth and sweet, like the cowboy who bought it. And while part of her was suspicious of anything that came across as too smooth, another part appreciated the kindness in everything he did. She pulled into the Double S, not blinded to the irony of coming here for advice, but here she was.

  She parked the van and saw Elsa Andreas, a local psychologist and Nick’s fiancée, heading her way. Elsa had pulled her blond hair back in a ponytail, and her trusty dog, Achilles, trotted by her side. He’d clearly missed his owner. When Elsa paused, Achilles paused too. Eyes up, he gave Elsa such a look of utter devotion, it made Lucy’s heart tug a little. “Lucy, hey.” Elsa took Lucy’s hand and squeezed lightly. “I hear we’ve been called for a consultation.”

  “Off the clock, because I can’t afford you on the clock, Elsa.”

  Elsa laughed and tucked Lucy’s arm through hers as they strolled toward the door. “No charge among friends. Ange is inside, Isabo has the girls, and Noah’s down at the pond with Nick. What’s up?”

  Angelina was setting out tea, cookies, and glasses but managed to shoot Lucy a quick cop look. “Is Trey in trouble?”

  “Trey?” The question surprised Lucy so much that she stared at her, confused. “How could Trey be in trouble?”

  “Ah…” Angelina exchanged a look of interest with Elsa. “He couldn’t be, of course. Not our Trey.”

  “Barely know him, but already love him,” Elsa declared. She winked at Angelina. “What’s not to love?”

  The light dawned. Lucy held up one hand, palm out, to stop their speculation. “It’s not like that. You two are whacked.”

  “Of course it’s not.”

  “It never is, dear.” Elsa’s smile widened, but then she leaned forward. “If this isn’t about Trey, then what’s going on?”

  “Ashley.”

  Angelina didn’t look surprised.

  Elsa squinted with confusion. “Who is Ashley?”

  “My late husband’s much younger sister. She’s fourteen. I brought her to live with us three weeks ago, and in that three weeks I discovered she’s been smoking pot and her mother left town without a forwarding address after she cut off the kid’s phone. Ashley’s reluctantly going to summer school because she blew off homework and English class in eighth grade. She wrongly thinks we can ignore the law and let her quit school so she can get a job.”

  “Because there are so many jobs out there for uneducated, pot-smoking, belligerent teenagers,” Angelina noted.

  “That’s the deal.”

  “And with her mom gone, you’ve got little recourse.” Elsa tapped the side of her glass and frowned, thinking.

  “Exactly.” Elsa had nailed the conundrum instantly.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I love Ashley. We’ve been friends for ten years, but she’s being a first-class brat, and I’m scared that by having her at my house, I’m going to totally mess up my kids. And now I don’t know what to do.”

  “When does summer school end?”

  “A week from this Friday.”

  “And she wants a job?” Angelina folded her hands together. “What if we hire her here for fifteen hours a week?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I am. Kids always think they know what they want, but what they need is often quite different. You said the phone was shut off, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Isabo had come into the kitchen for cookies. Angelina put a hand on her arm. “Mami, I think we could scare up some hours for Ashley, don’t you? If she works hard she can earn enough money to turn the phone back on. If that’s how she decides to spend it when it comes time.”

  Isabo’s lips formed a thin line. “There can be no nonsense here. I will have my hands full caring for Sam and—”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Lucy didn’t let her finish. “The last thing you’re going to need or want is a somewhat untrustworthy teen hanging around.”

  “Trustworthiness is a factor of importance, but how does one re-earn trust, if no opportunity is given?”

  Leave it to Isabo to sum things up. “You think it would work? And you wouldn’t mind?”

  “This way she can see if the reality matches the dream. We know as adults that’s not always the case.”

  Lucy knew that, all right.

  “And if she likes working here,” Angelina went on, “and does well in school, we might be able to extend the opportunity into the school year. As long as she follows the rules.”

  “Which I will set.” Keeping her voice firm, Isabo finished gathering cookies for the kids outside, but kept right on talking. “And then, of course, I will watch. I do believe she liked the horses well
enough, and if she’s hardworking, we could make that a reward as well.”

  “That’s an excellent idea.” Elsa raised her glass of tea in a toast. “And you guys didn’t need me at all. I’m kinda bummed by that.”

  “Oh, we need you, all right.” Angelina touched her glass to Lucy’s, then Elsa’s. “Nick actually smiles now, enough so that Colt makes fun of him.”

  Elsa laughed.

  “And the girls are finally coming around,” Angelina continued. “You are very needed here, Elsa. Nick couldn’t wait to show people the layout for the new house over the weekend, although he’s chomping at the bit because of the delays.”

  “An impatient Stafford?” Elsa pretended that was unlikely. “Surely you jest.”

  “Lucy.” Sam’s voice interrupted their teasing. He walked toward the kitchen from the great room beyond, and Lucy was pretty sure he looked even worse than he had on Sunday.

  “Mr. Stafford.” Should she stand? Stay seated? Treat him with respect or spit in his eye? Seventy times seven…She stood and extended her hand. “Would you like to sit with us?”

  He took her hand briefly but shook his head. “No. I heard your voice and wanted to see if plans are progressing. Did you find a vehicle today?”

  “We did.” She blushed to say it because it felt plain wrong to accept a brand-new, off-the-lot, upscale van for her piece-of-junk clunker. “It’s parked outside, and it’s quite amazing.”

  “Good!” He smiled at her, a gentle smile. It didn’t look like Trey’s smile, but it was similar in warmth, and that surprised her again. “I know that will take a load off Trey’s mind. And the work is progressing?”

  “Trey’s working hard,” she told him.

  He nodded.

  “They’re beginning the roofing projects tomorrow, they’ve put in new barn supports, and Trey finished the front side of the barn today.”