“I know.”
He looked at her then, and she couldn’t blink the tears back quickly enough. He crossed the pretty porch and leaned his head against her upper arm. “It’s okay, Mommy. You take care of me, and I’ll take care of you. Just like Trey said.”
Her throat went tighter than her chest, and she didn’t think that was possible. More tears fell of their own accord, despite her toughest efforts to stop them.
She wasn’t a crier. She hadn’t had time to cry in a long time. But right now she couldn’t seem to help it.
“Hey, Cade.” Ashley came through the front door with a minnow bucket. “Want to go catch some bait with me? Trey showed me how to set up that back trough like an aquarium so we can have live bait anytime we want. Then maybe Lucy will let us go fishing at the big pond.”
His eyes lit up. “You want to take me? For real?”
“Yup.”
Ashley didn’t look at Lucy. She looked straight at Cade, the kid she always found bothersome, and raised up a plastic bucket. “Let’s see if this idea works, okay?”
“Okay!”
He raced over to her, and the pair went off toward the creek for the first time ever.
Trey’s influence, again, in such a good way. On Ashley, on Cade. Lucy needed to count the blessings of having had him around—getting to know him—and appreciate those good effects, because he’d helped all five of them.
She wouldn’t trade that for anything, she decided as she hung sheets that had soured in the washer and needed to be washed twice.
She would take all of the goodness of summer and appreciate it. She’d been silly to dream of other things, but that wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own. Now it was simply time to move on.
Her message light was flashing when she got inside. Ed Boddy’s number showed bright in the screen.
She held the phone, staring at the number, then replaced the handset.
She couldn’t call him back. Not just yet. She needed to know herself and her answer before she picked up that phone. If she called him back now, the lure of an old dream might burn too bright.
She’d made a deal with Sam for the new shop in town. Was it too late to take it back if she decided to give Nashville a try?
Probably not.
But the teenage singer who’d longed for love and attention had grown up. And just maybe her dreams had grown up with her.
Focus forward.
Trey pulled out the old mental stability tactics he’d used following Cathy’s overdose, dusted them off, and put them back into play as they went through the presurgical rigors in San Francisco.
Medical tests. Private interviews to assess mental capacity and understanding. And then the play-by-play explanations of what to expect.
Nick blanched when the surgeon explained the follow-up pain in stunning, gut-clenching detail.
Colt gripped Trey’s arm when they calmly went through the statistical odds of survival.
And when all was said and done, father and son signed the necessary documents and were admitted.
He didn’t dare think about Lucy.
He couldn’t let his mind wander to the risk of losing her and that precious family. One way or another, he had a task at hand, and that promise needed to be fulfilled first.
Caring for Lucy was special in the very best of ways. Falling for Lucy had been fun. Natural. Unfettered. When was the last time any aspect of his life had simply happened? Not since he was a kid, sitting saddle, working his father’s ranch.
Helping her rewarded him, and he wasn’t sure how that worked, but it did. And kissing her? Imagining a lifetime of kissing her?
He’d come so close to making that leap until Ed showed up, going all gung-ho warrior agent over Lucy’s voice. “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free…” John’s gospel, Christ’s words.
Ed’s proposal hadn’t just irritated him. It scared him outright, because how many parallels could he embrace? Lucy had a past she’d overcome, but the rigors of Nashville—and the partying in some circles—tempted so many.
Shame bit deep.
He’d wanted his chance in Music City. He’d wanted a chance to show what could be done, how success could be won if you stayed clean and clear of the self-indulgences. But he was quite willing to have Lucy forego that opportunity out of fear. His fear, not hers.
What kind of man put himself above others?
A scared one.
“If God be for us, who can be against us?” Paul had reminded the Romans to stand tall. To be brave and true in the face of adversity and persecution.
Paul was right.
Trey needed to live the faith he claimed. He needed to…
He swallowed hard, because this was the toughest one of all…
He needed to trust.
He needed to trust God. To trust his timing. To trust that God alone was in charge of him. In charge of Lucy. And in charge of the looming operation.
“Whom shall I fear?”
The beautiful words of the twenty-seventh psalm flooded over him. Words of pleading and promise, of hope and healing.
And in the end, the psalmist promised to wait upon the Lord.
Nick and Colt came in to say good night. They looked nervous and even a little guilty. “We just saw Dad, and they’ve given him something to help him sleep.” Nick clutched his hat in his hands, crushing the nicely rolled brim.
“You’re manhandling that hundred-dollar hat. Hobbs would smack you right now.”
“It looks stupid to wear it in the hospital.”
“Not if you wear it right,” drawled Colt. “Darn sight better than rolling it up like a cheap cigar.”
“I bet Elsa thinks he’s cute when he’s nervous.” Trey made the observation knowing he was in a hospital bed and less likely to get wailed on because of it.
The very thought made Nick indignant. “I don’t get nervous.”
“Or mad,” added Colt, rolling his eyes.
“Or worried,” Trey agreed while Nick began to sputter. “I’ve got two things to ask of you guys.”
“Name it.” Colt, quick and to the point, as always.
“Pray for me. Pray for me to get beyond my fears once this is all behind us, and to move on with my life. Pray for me to be strong, like you guys are strong.”
“Shoot, Trey.” Nick didn’t get all sentimental. He frowned instead. “You’ve been the strongest all along. The one who held on to your faith and your beliefs and your career. The one who rises up from the stinkin’ ashes like that dumb bird, again and again. You just don’t see your strength, so you think it doesn’t exist, but it does. Always did. Always will. And if you get a little worried about things now and again, who doesn’t?”
Nick had never been a hugger. He’d been too busy being mad at just about everything in the world to reach out to others, but he moved closer, leaned down, and hugged Trey. Hugged him hard. “You’re strong, Trey. To the bone. And I’ll help you any way you need once we’ve got you back home.”
Normally Colt would take this moment to make fun of both of them.
Why should life-threatening surgery be any different?
He looked from one to the other, faintly horrified, then growled, “The littlest doesn’t get to be the strongest, just because you’ve gone all romantic and mushy on us.” He reached in from the opposite side of the bed and clenched Trey’s left hand. “We’re Staffords. No matter what else we mess up, we practice what we preach. Go in there and kick butt, okay? And we’ll keep an eye on things at Lucy’s place. No missing the way she was looking at you lately, and I expect she’s worried sick right now.”
“I didn’t tell her.”
“You what?” Colt wasn’t faking stress this time. “You didn’t tell her about the surgery?”
“I figured I needed to do this myself. If things don’t go well…” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to make things worse for her and those kids.”
“Well, that’s about the dumbest thing I
’ve ever heard.” Nick’s “Mr. Nice Guy” persona faded quickly. “If ever God put a woman on the planet that can take charge of a situation, it’s Lucy Carlton. That woman figured out how to make stuff out of nothing a long while back.”
“I can’t believe you left her in the dark, but on the other hand, I get it.” Colt still sounded grumpy, but understanding too. “This self-sacrificing stuff is new to me.”
The truth in that made the other brothers smile.
“We’ll watch out for her. No matter what, okay?”
If his brothers said they would, they would. He nodded as a nurse came in to kick his brothers out.
Nick turned at the door. He didn’t say anything, just turned. And then he smiled like he knew it was all going to be okay.
And for no reason in the world that Trey could think of…it helped.
Lucy didn’t expect him to call. She told herself that, time and again. She hoped for it. Longed for it. But she wasn’t foolish enough to expect it.
And still, when it didn’t happen, her heart broke a little all over again.
She got Ashley and the boys off to school while she and Belle worked to get the barn ready for a wreath-making area. She tried not to look at the beautiful garden, growing brighter and bolder as the plants took hold. She averted her eyes as best she could because each time she looked at it, she thought of Trey. “Just a little yard work, ma’am. That’s all it is.”
Her heart went hot and cold, wondering how things were going and yet unwilling to place the call to ask. If he wanted to share news about Sam, he’d call.
No call came, even though she brought the landline into the barn with her, just in case.
She worked. She sanded, swept, dusted, and swabbed white paint on the barn stall, then sanded some off to give it the stressed, old look she wanted. She watered rows of mums, just breaking bloom.
She painted the concrete floor of the barn entrance a soft gray while Belle napped, and when the kids got home from school, she helped them with organizing their folders and filling out emergency-contact cards, and then she went online to fill out the same thing she’d just done on paper.
A little later that evening, she received a quick text from Angelina, via Ashley’s phone.
SURGERY COMPLETE. ALL IS WELL SO FAR.
She kept her reply simple too.
HAPPY TO HEAR THIS, THANK YOU!
Nothing more came. Not a word. Not a text, not a message, not a voice mail.
She’d hoped for some kind of contact from Trey.
Nothing.
As she handed out lunch boxes the next morning, she gave the kids Angelina’s message. “Mr. Sam’s surgery went well, but we should still pray for him to recover completely.”
“Then Trey’s coming back!” Cade leaped out of his seat. “If his dad is doing all right, then he’ll be back. I know it!”
She hated to be the one to burst his little boy bubble, but his assumption wasn’t based on fact. “I don’t know what Trey’s plans are, honey. I’m not sure he knows what his plans are. And it will take awhile for Mr. Sam to get strong enough to come home.”
Cade blinked, confused. “But I know Trey wants to be back here, with us. With all of us. I know it, Mom! I can, like, feel it.”
“Cade.” She knelt down beside him while he tied the laces of his well-worn sneakers. “I’m sure we’ll get to see him when he comes home for holidays. And you’ve got Dakota and Cheyenne to play with now. They’ll be living right next door, on the ranch. We’ll have friends right here, close to us, even if Trey has to work far, far away.”
He stared at her. His eyes went moist. “You don’t know anything.”
Great. Now she’d be sending him off to school upset, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. “Cade.”
“No.” He slipped off the chair and grabbed his things. “I don’t think you even know how to understand boys, ever. I know he’s coming back because I feel it. Like right here.” He patted his hand against his heart. “Nothing you say will change it, and even if you want to change it, you can’t because Trey wants to be here. I can tell. I can tell he wants it the most. Like the most ever!”
He slung his bag over his shoulder. A tear slid down one cheek, then the other. He brushed them aside with one swift motion and went out the door quickly.
Cody followed. He glanced back at Lucy, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t smile. He dropped his chin and followed his brother to the end of the driveway, waiting for the school bus.
They needed time. Time to get used to this new normal, without Trey’s laugh. His voice. His work, his smile, his light whistle.
Cody would be okay. He’d bonded with Trey, but he’d been tiny when Chase died, and he’d never known or really bonded with his father.
Cade had seen enough of his father to know something was wrong. He’d been just old enough to realize Chase liked booze, women, and heavy metal music far more than his family, and even at such a young age, he’d tried so hard to win his dad’s favor. To secure his love. It never happened and then Chase was gone, leaving an empty, aching space inside his oldest son. A space that had seemed fuller when Trey was around.
Twice that morning she picked up the phone to call Trey and rail at him. Tell him what his absence meant to a sad little boy.
Both times she stopped herself, because she wasn’t one hundred percent sure who she was defending. Cade’s feelings? Or hers? And when she decided it was both, she set the phone down and got back to work organizing mums for an upcoming weekend sale while Belle set up a pretend nursery school on the freshly painted porch.
A car pulled into the driveway midday. Lucy heard the crunch of the tires, and for just a moment, her heart leaped…
But then she heard Angelina’s voice. “Lucy? Where are you?”
“In the barn.” She set down her tools and moved toward the door. “Hey.” She met Angelina and Noah halfway across the driveway. Belle grabbed her little buddy’s hand. The two preschoolers took off for the porch instantly, then inside to gather some stuffed-animal playmates. She waited until they were out of earshot, then noted Angelina’s worried expression. “You look worried. Has Sam taken a turn for the worse?
“Not Sam. Trey.”
“Trey?” Lucy stared at her, not comprehending. “Why would we be worried about Trey?”
Angelina studied her. She drew a breath, bit her lower lip, then sighed. “He didn’t tell you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Trey is what I’m talking about. Trey was the living donor for Sam’s liver.”
“He was what?” Angelina started to repeat herself, but Lucy waved her off. “No, I heard you. I just can’t believe this. He never said a word. Not one of you ever said a word. Who keeps something like this secret?” She didn’t mean to raise her voice, but she did and when she was done, she wasn’t at all sorry.
“Now he’s off in a California hospital, probably in dreadful pain, and no one even bothered to say a word to me. Except that I really have no right to know, so I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Except that it matters to me, Angelina!” She thumped her chest.
“Well, anyone with half a brain can see that, Lucy, and the other half of the brain says the feeling’s mutual, and just as stubborn. But he’s taken a bad turn. He developed a postsurgical infection. Nick and Colt are staying right there. Sam is beside himself because Trey risked his life for him, and Trey is fighting for his life.”
Fighting for his life.
The adrenaline rush started somewhere around her heart and surged throughout her body.
Trey in trouble.
Trey, near death.
Trey, the kind, gentle cowboy crooner, sacrificing his life to save his father.
Her heart beat harder. Her fingers tensed, then thrummed. “What can I do? There must be something, Angelina. Tell me what I can do to help.”
“Pray.”
It seemed like so little, yet hadn’t it been her mainstay for so l
ong?
“Pray hard and I’ll keep you informed. They’re fighting the infection with antibiotics, but it’s a deep wound.”
“And that makes the situation more dangerous.”
“Yes.”
Oh, Trey.
She stared around the empty yard once Angelina left. Trey sick. Trey fighting death. Donating a part of himself so his father could live.
She’d loved him before knowing that. He’d crept into her heart and her life with constant acts of kindness and candor.
But standing around wasn’t what Trey would expect her to do. He’d get things done while waiting. She prayed while she worked in the barn. She prayed while she made signs for the upcoming Christmas sales season. She prayed while the boys did homework, willing the phone to ring.
And when Angelina’s number finally flashed in the display, she grabbed the phone up, hopeful, only to hear there was no change.
“Then we’ll pray and work until there is,” she told Angelina. “Do you guys need help over there?” It sounded odd to offer help to the Double S, but nice too. Like somehow they’d evened the playing field over the summer.
“I’d love for you to bring your kids over after church and hang out here on Sunday,” Angelina told her. “Everyone here is restless and anxious. With the men all gone, the house feels empty, even though it’s filled with kids, women, and the occasional dog or cat. It’s like there’s a shadow looming over everything, and it’s a shadow that won’t go away until we can sound the all’s well. You and the kids would be a welcome addition.”
“I’d like that,” Lucy told her. “And in the meantime, we keep railing the heavens.”
“Amen to that.”
Hot lights burned Trey’s eyelids and cheeks. He struggled, trying to edge away from the incessant beam, but he couldn’t move. He was trapped on stage, with too many lights and nowhere to go.
He couldn’t sing.
He couldn’t talk. He tried to see the crowd, but the lights blinded him.
He heard them though. Calling out, yelling his name.
Crowds of thousands, tens of thousands sometimes, paying money to see him. He tried to see the crowd again, but his eyes refused to open.
Peace in the Valley Page 27