Peace in the Valley

by Ruth Logan Herne

  All those people. So many people clamoring, and for a split second, he wondered if Lucy might be there.

  His brain recoiled at the thought, then stopped recoiling.

  He wanted Lucy there, didn’t he? He peered through the light but saw nothing. Nothing at all.

  The noise of the crowd diminished slowly. The lights faded, then dimmed.

  He slept.

  Lucy parked in the church lot, running late as usual. It felt funny to be on her own again, bringing the kids to Sunday morning services. She’d have to trust them to behave themselves for a few minutes until Angelina and Elsa arrived.

  The unlikelihood of their good behavior wasn’t lost on her.

  She took Belle’s hand and hurried to the sidewalk.

  This day the music was for Trey. For his recovery, his strength, and the medical team working on him. While Sam improved daily, Trey’s battle continued, so today’s music, today’s service, would be her prayer for him, and with every beat of her heart she yearned for God to hear her plea.

  Cade seized her hand before he followed Ashley to their pew. “I’m gonna pray extra hard today, even when it’s the boring part.” He clutched her hand tight in his, and his eyes implored her to understand his mission. “I think if I do that, God will hear me real clear, no matter how far away heaven is, and he’ll want Trey to be okay. And then he will be.”

  Should she tell him it didn’t always work like that?

  No.

  No, she’d let him storm the heavens from the right-hand pew while she did the same from above. And when the pastor said a special prayer of healing in Trey’s name, Cade didn’t look up.

  He sat, head down, his little hands folded tighter than tight, begging God for Trey’s life.

  The simple faith of a child.

  She wanted that. She wanted that simple belief, and the trust she’d lost long ago. Trust in people, trust in men, trust in anyone other than herself.

  As the congregation prayed for Trey as one, Lucy made God a promise—a pledge to follow Christ’s command to love one another. To forgive and move on.

  And if she could do that moving on thing with Trey Stafford, she’d be the happiest woman in the world.

  Soft, sweet music tempted Trey to waken.

  Wait. Not music.

  Humming.

  Lucy’s voice came to mind, humming in the trees, softly singing hymns of faith and songs of love.

  Her voice, sweet and pure, going soft, then rising into a crowning long-breath crescendo. In the background, children’s voices called his name. Laughing, playing, they called for him to join them.

  And then the music came again. Soft. Soothing.

  He opened his mouth to harmonize with her but couldn’t. He struggled, trying to talk, wanting to sing with her, but his arms wouldn’t work, and his voice wouldn’t work, and he couldn’t move to save his soul.

  “It’s all right, Trey.”

  Another voice, not Lucy’s. Deep. Strong. Gruff and sweetly familiar. He paused his struggles, straining to hear.

  “It’s all right, Son. I’m here.” The voice choked just then, and Trey felt a firm and gentle touch to his right shoulder. “Daddy’s here.”

  Sam’s voice.

  Sam’s touch, on his shoulder, just like he’d done so many times in the past. Trey had been alone in a crowd of druggies for his first three years, but when Sam Stafford had hauled him up into those big, strong arms, he wasn’t alone anymore. Ever. Even through their ups and downs, he’d never been truly alone once Sam brought him home.

  “You’re going to be fine, Trey. Just fine.” Sam’s voice cracked slightly, as if he stumbled over the words. “The doctors and nurses are taking good care of you and me. We’re going to be riding herd in no time, with your brothers pestering us morning, noon, and night. Okay?”

  The blast furnace heat came again, surging within, from the bottoms of his feet to the hair on his head, rising heat even though the lights were gone.

  He wanted to tell Sam he heard him. He wanted to say so much, to tell him how glad he was to be his son, to be a Stafford, but when he tried to form words, nothing came.

  Later, he promised himself, succumbing to sleep.

  He’d tell his dad later.

  FEVER SPIKED AGAIN. DOCTORS ARE WORRIED. US TOO. DAD’S DISTRAUGHT. PRAY. ALL OF YOU. JUST PRAY.

  Lucy clasped her hands together tightly as Angelina read the text from Colt out loud. Her heart squeezed, and she tried to steady her breathing.

  Angelina didn’t try to control her voice. She didn’t blink back tears. She let them fall, then wiped a hand towel across her face in an impatient gesture. “So, he thinks we’re not praying? That we need to be told?”

  “Or he needs to feel he’s got some control over the uncontrollable,” said Elsa softly. “If he asks for prayers, at least he’s doing something. When I talked to Nick, I was pretty sure he was set to punch someone, he was so mad.”

  “And do you think he did it? Punched someone?” Lucy asked.

  “He went downstairs instead. To the chapel. And for just a little while, he sat, all by himself. Quiet.”

  “When Stafford men sit, quiet, then you know there is a crisis.” Isabo set out a deep pan of warm apple dumplings, one of her favorite crowd-pleasing recipes. “I used to make big trays of these for the Seattle mission,” she told the women as she slid the pan onto the large wooden trivet. “People needing help, needing warmth, wanting to get out of the rain for a little while. To talk, to share, to eat…The reasons did not matter when they sat and ate these dumplings. All that was bad suddenly wasn’t so bad. And that was good, no?”

  “Comfort food, an ageless cure-all,” Elsa noted as she awkwardly pinned a pattern over gold-brown material at the opposite end of the table. “I have to make this look like an oak leaf by Wednesday, and the last thing I want to do right now is struggle with slippery material and dull pins. What do you think my chances of a successful completion for Dakota’s science class are?”

  “You cut, I’ll sew,” Isabo told her. “You are better at keeping big kids amused with games. I am fast with a needle, and it will keep my hands busy. Busy is good. Busy keeps my head from wanting to explode with worry when I know I must trust in the Lord our God, but it is possible that in this instance, he could move at a speed I find more pleasing when someone so beloved takes ill.”

  “We work and wait as one. Like you taught me long ago, Mami.” Angelina touched her mother’s shoulder.

  Wait as one.

  “Where two or three are gathered together in my name…”

  That’s why Lucy had come here after church. She couldn’t stay home alone with the kids, waiting for a phone call. She needed to be here, with the other women.

  Ashley was working on a project for Isabo in the near barn, and the older kids were under Murt’s and Hobbs’s watchful eyes while Noah and Belle raced tricycles across the graveled drive. The place might look normal, but to anyone who’d been part of the past summer…there was nothing normal about it. No bold men swaggered across the yard. No laughter echoed from barn to yard and back again. Despite the gathering of women and children, the broad, sprawling ranch seemed wanting.

  Much like them. “Lucy, you must tell me what you think of this pastry. Too wet, too dry, not flaky enough?” Isabo slipped a plate in front of her a few minutes later, and Lucy read the message behind the older woman’s kind words.

  She wanted Lucy to eat something. She wanted to soothe the worry with warm food and gentle words.

  Lucy accepted the plate of warm wrapped apples and met Isabo’s eyes. She didn’t think she’d be hungry, but she was, and not just for food. The friendship and empathy in this house filled her with hope and strength.

  And when the landline phone rang just before six kids raced inside looking for supper, Isabo scanned the display, then raised a hand for quiet. The raised hand held a wooden spoon she’d been using. The other reached for the ringing phone while the rest of the women waited
and watched.

  Her face crumpled. Her jaw went slack. And when she then gripped the phone tight with two hands, both hands shook.

  Angelina stood slowly. So did Elsa.

  Lucy couldn’t stand. Her legs refused to hold her. Her chest went tight and her palms grew damp. But when a broad, damp smile broke through Isabo’s overwrought emotions, Lucy’s stopped heart began beating once again.

  “He is better! He is to be fine, they think. His fever is down, and he was talking to Sam just now! Oh, praise be to God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and of earth!”

  “Mami, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Angelina scolded, one hand to her heart.

  “Ditto,” chimed in Elsa.

  “It is most compelling news,” Isabo told them, and she waved that wooden spoon around again. “I have great emotion over things; this is never a bad thing, is it, my daughter?”

  “Mami.” Angelina moved across the room and grabbed her mother in a big hug. “I wouldn’t trade you and your slightly overdramatic sensibilities for anything. You’re wonderful just the way you are, and I’m too happy about Trey to be the least bit annoyed. Lucy.” She turned her attention toward Lucy. “I’m so glad you were here with us.”

  She was too. No matter what happened next, if Trey was all right, that was enough. “I’ve got to tell Ashley and Cade.”

  She crossed to the barn. Chill nipped the night air. She crossed her arms against the cold and went through the barn door.

  Ashley wasn’t cleaning the office in the front section of the barn like she expected. “Ashley?”

  “Back here.”

  She followed the voice, then paused.

  Ashley had tucked herself into a stall with Trey’s horse. She was grooming the gelding with long, slow, even strokes. “With Trey gone, I figured nobody had time to let the horses know how much we love them. So when I finished the office, I started brushing them.”

  “Like Trey showed you.”

  “Yes.” Ashley worked the brush down in smooth, rhythmic fashion. “It’s hard when you don’t know how to help. You know?”

  Lucy knew that feeling too well. “I think you took the best possible way and just did it. I’m proud of you, Ashley. We just got a call from the hospital. Trey’s doing better. They think he’s going to be all right.”

  “For real?”

  “Yes.”

  Ashley leaned her forehead against the horse’s neck. “I prayed for him. And for Mr. Sam, but Trey mostly. Because he knew I was being dumb and gave me a chance anyway.” She breathed deep, brushed her sleeve against her eyes, and went back to grooming. “Not many folks would do that.”

  Lucy knew the truth in that too. “No. I’ve got to go tell Cade.”

  “He loves Trey. A lot.”

  Lucy knew that, and she heard what Ashley wasn’t saying too. That Cade wasn’t the only one who’d fallen for the kindhearted country singer. “I think we all do, darlin’.”

  Ashley smiled through more tears before swiping her face again. “Happy tears this time. Much better.”

  “Agreed.”

  Cade found her before she found him. He came dashing into the front of the barn and threw himself at her. “Trey’s feeling better! I knew it! I knew it all the time, that he wanted to come back to us and it was hard, and so I kept telling God to help him, to show him the way back, and he did it! He did it, Mom!”

  “He did. And I’m so glad you didn’t give up, little man.”

  Cade shook his head hard. “He wouldn’t give up on me. Not ever. Some people do give up, or they do bad things, but not Trey. He wants to do good things, and he wants me to do them too. So I will. Will he come home soon?”

  She had no idea how to answer that question.

  Home was a relative factor. Would Trey head back here to the Double S, or would he need to finish his recovery in Nashville?

  “I’m not sure, so for right now, let’s just be glad he’s going to be okay. And your letter to him should get there tomorrow, so that will make him smile, Cade.”

  “And then maybe he’ll call us.”

  She couldn’t promise that, and she didn’t want him disappointed. “Recovery first…and then cute, pesky kids. Okay?”

  He grabbed her in a hug, a hug of huge proportions. “Okay. And I’m going to practice my reading extra hard so I can read to Trey when he comes back. Like you do when I’m sick. I think he’d like that a lot.”

  Of course he would. If he were here. “That’s a great idea.”

  They ate a quick supper because it was a school night, and as Ashley helped get the kids into the van, Angelina and Elsa both gave Lucy much-needed hugs. “I am relieved beyond belief,” Angelina said.

  “Me too. I hated being here when I felt like I should have been there, at his side. Even though there’s no real reason for me to be there.”

  “Emotions don’t always need a reason. Sometimes they are the reason,” remarked Elsa.

  “And I’m pretty sure Trey shares those feelings,” Angelina told her.

  Lucy wasn’t nearly as certain. He’d been careful to make no promises. “None of that matters.”

  Angelina snorted.

  Elsa sighed.

  “It doesn’t, not really. As long as he’s going to be okay, that’s the important thing. He’s done wonderful things for us, more than I ever expected. I can be content with that.”

  Angelina faced Elsa. “Did you hear that?”

  “I did. Classic denial and measured acceptance.”

  “What’s your prognosis?”

  “Some quiet time with the cowboy in question could help move things along. Once the poor guy can lift his head without seeing stars.”

  “Stop. Both of you. You’re ridiculous.”

  “While that might be true,” Elsa conceded, “we’ve walked in these shoes already, and we recognize the symptoms. I’m pretty sure that Trey Walker Stafford is going to have a true shot at happiness at long last. You can sing duets at the Grand Ole Opry together.”

  Lucy shook her head. “Not that. I’m pretty sure God’s directing me down a different road, straight and simple. Right here, with my plants, the little store in town, the choir, and my Overcomers.” She paused and looked out over the view of the ranch for a moment. “When Ed was talking up the music business, I was thrilled. Who wouldn’t want to hear that kind of thing, the thought of being a star, a real star?”

  She looked from Angelina to Elsa and shrugged. “But it’s not me. It’s not me at all. I’ve had enough crazy in my life, and no desire to test more. Now, the store in town?” She waved a hand in the general direction of Gray’s Glen. “Having a place to sell flowers and plants and baskets, all those fun things that make the world a prettier place to live? That’s enough for me. More than enough.”

  “So if Ed calls you back, you’re turning him down?” Angelina asked.

  “He did, and I refused the offer. It’s not the kind of life I want for my kids. Right now we’ve got it good. Better than I’ve ever known. And that’s enough.”

  “Of course if a certain country crooner cowboy sidles along and pops the question, well, that’s never a bad thing,” Elsa supposed.

  Lucy knew that wasn’t going to happen, but she parried the observation with grace. “Trey has taught me so much. Given me so much. And between him and Sam, I’m on my feet, exactly where I always wanted to be. Normal. And normal isn’t just good, ladies.” She climbed into the van. “It’s great.”

  Home at last.

  The long-winded discharge, made up of a host of instructions, a ream of papers, advice given to his father, and referrals to local labs for regular blood draws, and then getting to the airport, going through security, and boarding the plane exhausted Trey, but sleep would come soon enough.

  He was back in the valley, his valley, the place he loved most.

  Angelina, Isabo, and Elsa stood waiting on the side porch as they pulled in midafternoon. They hurried to the car, excited. “You’re back!” Isabo
went straight to Sam’s side of the car and opened the door. “It is so good to have you home and looking well! And now you must do as the doctor instructed each and every day, Samuel.” She gave him a hand to hold as he stepped out. “All of this drama and effort will be for nothing if you do not do as the doctors say.”

  “Did you miss me, Izzie?”

  She flushed, then frowned. “Of course, you know this already, there is no need to ask.”

  “I missed you.”

  Trey wouldn’t have thought Isabo could blush.

  She did.

  Sam looked down at her and slung an arm around her shoulders as he slowly walked to the house. “And I expect you’ll be real good at keeping me in line, Izzie. When I let you, that is.”

  She rolled her eyes but she smiled too, a bright, womanly smile that said more than words.

  “It’s so good to be back, to be out of that hospital, to be home.” Nick hugged Elsa close, then just stood there, unmoving, holding her awhile, but this was Nick, so the questions started pretty quick. “How’s everything going? Did Murt handle that Oklahoma deal? And how’s the house coming? The shell looks good, but did they start the inside? And have you been checking it daily?”

  Colt didn’t waste time talking.

  He took his own sweet time kissing his future wife, reveling in a homecoming moment.

  Who’s here to welcome you, Trey? Who’s here to tell you they missed you? That they longed for your return?

  He shrugged that off and moved toward the house to get his keys.

  Angelina stopped him before he made it halfway up the walk. “No welcome home hug?”

  “Of course.” He hugged her and winked at Colt over her head. “It’s good to be here, that’s for sure. After the past couple of weeks, it’s good to be anywhere.”

  “Let’s get you inside and resting.” Angelina wasn’t about to take no for an answer, which made Trey realize a take-charge woman was a real gift from God. She moved forward and opened the door. “There will be no going up to the cabin until we’re sure you’re okay. I don’t want any relapses to grab hold of you with no one around to take care of things.”