Peace in the Valley

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “I’m fine, Angelina. And I don’t think that sleeping here is conducive to anything I’d call rest. Have you counted the kids around here lately?”

  She laughed. “Isn’t it marvelous? But they’re back in school now and not underfoot like they were all summer. Except for Noah and Belle, of course. When she comes to visit.”

  So Lucy still brought Belle over.

  His spirit rose, just a little.

  He’d had time to think once he could think again. And time to pray. And time to imagine what it would be like being a dad, the kind of dad he’d dreamed of being if he made it through the surgery.

  He needed to see Lucy. See Cade. Talk to them. There was so much to say.

  “Lucy’s kids are dying to see you, but we decided you needed some rest after the trip home. Is that all right, Trey?”

  She’d actually asked a question instead of bossing him around, and Colt laughed out loud. “Aw, isn’t that sweet? You must have been near death for Ange to treat you with kid gloves like that.” Colt grinned at him. “Normally she’d just tell you what to do and expect you to like it.”

  “I know.” Trey pretended worry. “Maybe I’m not doing as well as they say.”

  “Stop. Both of you. You.” Angelina pointed inside. “You are going to use the downstairs bedroom near your father’s. There is to be no arguing in this matter. I have a wedding in six weeks, and I expect everyone to be there, healthy and hearty. And you.” She tipped her face up to Colt’s and was rewarded with another kiss. “Thank you for staying there with your father and brothers. For trusting us to handle things. Which we did.”

  “Never doubted it for a minute, darlin’.” He winked at Trey over her head. “Not one single minute.”

  “Well, the kid gave us enough to worry about for a while. But he rallied in the end and did okay.” Nick brought Trey’s bag from the car. “We were almost proud of him.”

  “Key word: almost,” Colt added. “We sure don’t want any of this savin’ lives stuff to be going to his head. It’s big enough already.”

  There had been no teasing when he was near death. There hadn’t been too much of anything he could remember, but the soaring heat, Sam’s voice, and a little guy’s voice, calling him home.

  He went inside, determined to catch nothing more than a quick, revitalizing nap, and managed to sleep for fourteen straight hours.

  And when he woke up later that next morning, surrounded by the sights and sounds of the Double S, happiness washed over him. But there was still a job to be done, a visit to make, and once he managed to pull himself together, he grabbed the keys to his SUV and headed down the hill.

  Worry had made him hesitate before he went to San Francisco, but two weeks of conscious recovery after a near-death experience taught a man a lesson or two.

  He wasn’t a quitter.

  He wasn’t a fool.

  Life came with opportunities and chances, and a man needed heart and gumption enough to seize both. Sure, things could go wrong. And if they did, they’d figure it out and put them to rights again, like Lucy had been doing all along. He’d just been too wounded, and maybe scared, to see that clearly.

  Not anymore.

  But now the question was, would Lucy be interested? He’d have to see about that, and he wasn’t afraid to pour on some old-fashioned wooing if needed. A woman like Lucy was worth whatever it took.

  “You heading out, Trey?”

  “Got a stop to make, Angelina.”

  She didn’t look surprised. “You haven’t taken any pain meds, have you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Didn’t your papers say no driving for another two weeks?”

  “I’m pretty sure they didn’t realize how close we are to the farm next door. Otherwise they’d have written an exception.”

  “I could just call down there and have her bring Belle up here,” Ange said softly. “Relapsing on my time isn’t how I want this to play out.”

  “I won’t be long.”

  He caught Colt’s grin and headed to his SUV. He’d rest again later, in a nice, comfortable bed with no bells or whistles or whirs or beeps to wake him on a regular basis. Just a bed, clean sheets, and a good pillow.

  Simple worked best.

  He pulled into Lucy’s yard a few minutes later and paused at the upper end of the driveway.

  The garden had grown in the weeks he’d been gone. The cool September temps and gentle rains had created a lush corner of paradise, vibrant against the snow-white porch. To the left of the path leading to the Christmas tree fields stood twin greenhouses, sharp and new in the September sun. And in the first one, framed between the panes, was Lucy, moving this, adjusting that.

  His heart didn’t twist.

  It soared.

  Watching her, he finally saw the difference that made all the difference. Lucy had made mistakes, sure.

  But she’d accepted her mistakes and moved on. She hadn’t fallen down the slippery slope repeatedly. She’d taken on a new, mature life and clung to it, through thick and thin.

  She was strong and wonderful, and the thought of being without Lucy Carlton was far tougher than having half a liver.

  He parked, climbed out, and shut the door. The noise made her look up. She saw him.

  Her hands stopped midair. Her mouth, her pretty, sweet, and very kissable mouth, opened slightly. She stood there, staring; then her face changed.

  This is it, he realized as he approached the propped greenhouse door. The moment of truth when she lets you have it, both barrels, and well deserved. He stepped across the threshold.

  She met him there. She gazed up at him, watching him with the prettiest cornflower blue eyes he ever did see, and then she reached up one soft, sweet hand to his cheek. “I’ve never prayed so hard or so long for anything in my life, Trey Stafford, like I did the past few weeks. Welcome home.”

  “Lucy.”

  She smiled softly and kept her hand there, right there, against his face.

  “I’ve missed you, woman.”

  A quick sheen brightened her eyes as she nodded. “Me too.”

  He opened his arms, wanting to say so much, but mostly wanting to hold her, cradle her against his heart.

  She laid her head against his chest, and when she did, when his arms closed around her and drew her close, that yawning, gaping hole in his heart closed itself right up.

  He breathed in the sweet smell of her hair, mixed with the aroma of potting soil and plastic packaging she’d been unpacking. “Lucy, I—”

  He stopped talking when she stretched up for his kiss, and he’d be okay not talking for a long, long time if he could just keep holding her. Kissing her.

  “Mister Twey!”

  Lucy intervened before Belle launched herself at Trey. She bent quickly, caught her up, and hugged her, then turned her to face Trey. “Belle, we can’t jump on Trey right now.”

  “We can’t?” Twin tiny brows shot up in surprise. “Why not?”

  “Because he has an ouchie in his tummy.”

  “You do?” Eyes wide, she stared at him, then his midsection, then him again. “You got an ouchie? Why?”

  “Because he helped Mr. Sam get better, honey. But we’ve got to be really careful of Trey and Mr. Sam right now, okay?”

  “Oh, Mommy!” Belle turned a most serious gaze her way, then aimed it right back at Trey. “I will be so careful of everyfing, okay? I pwomise so much!”

  “That’s perfect, darling. Now why don’t you run and grab your shoes…”

  Belle shot a guilty look to her bare feet.

  “And we’ll get Trey back up that hill and resting comfortably. Okay?”

  “I can be his doctor!”

  “I’ve had more than my share of them,” Trey muttered when she was out of earshot. “But none so cute. Lucy, listen.” He turned back to her, needing to clear the air before the rare moment of privacy came to an end. “I have to apologize.”

  She waited quietly, listening.

  �
�You scared me.”

  The face she made indicated this wasn’t exactly how she saw this moment going.

  “Not you, per se, but the situation.”

  “Single mother, former substance abuse, lots of kids, errant teen, stacks of bills. What on earth could you possibly find scary about that?”

  Funny, the kids didn’t scare him at all. Maybe that was his naïveté talking, but the thought of a family actually sounded good. It was the fear of disappointing that family that made him think twice. But no more. “Put that way, a smart man might turn tail and run, but here’s the thing.” He bracketed her sweet, soft cheeks with his two hands. “I was wrong. I kept singing about faith and peace and hope and falling in love forever, but I couldn’t let myself just sit back and live that peace. I had to prove to myself that I was worthy to be loved. I was the hamster on the wheel, trying so hard and still going nowhere.”

  “Please tell me you’re over that now.” Lucy reached up and put her hands over his. “That’s not what God wants for you, and it sure isn’t what I want. I want you, Trey Stafford, just the way you are. Which, I suppose if you throw the rich and famous parts into the mix, seems gratuitous on my part, but Trey”—she leaned up for another sweet, tender kiss—“I’d want you without the rich and famous too. It means nothing to me. It never will.”

  She meant it. He heard it in her voice, and saw it reflected in her expression. “I messed up big time years ago, but that was then. This is now. God doesn’t want us wallowing in those old mistakes. When I was a child, I spoke as a child…” she paraphrased the old verse softly. “And then we forgive ourselves and move on.”

  He needed to do that, he realized. Not because he felt guilty, but for so long he’d been trying to fill that lack within himself. That aching, yearning hole that had gaped wide for so long.

  The emptiness didn’t come from lack of love.

  He realized that now.

  It was because he thought he must be unlovable, despite all the adoring fans and records and accolades. For all this time he’d been trying to earn what didn’t need to be earned, but what was freely given by good people: love.

  He’d been loved and lovable all the while, despite what his biological parents led him to believe.

  God loved him.

  Sam loved him.

  And now he could pass those two beautiful examples of a father’s love on to four kids who needed exactly that.

  God’s perfect timing.

  “I love you, Lucy.” Quick tears wet her eyes. Her chin trembled, and she looked like she was about to stop him from going further, but he gripped her shoulders gently and went right on. “I love you. You and these kids make everything I do seem better.”

  “Trey, I—”

  “Hush, woman.”

  She hushed and smiled through her tears.

  “Lucy Carlton, I can’t get down on one knee right now, and I don’t have a ring in my pocket, but I intend to get one, if you don’t mind giving me a little time, that is. Will you marry me, Lucy? Be my wife and let me help raise these kids and any more God might send our way?”

  Her eyes went wide, then soft. She blinked and looked him right in the eye. “Can we keep our home base here in Washington?”

  He nodded. “This valley’s my home. First, last, and always. I’ll fly into Nashville as needed, but I think Colt’s already got a Realtor checking things out. But what about Nashville, Lucy? And Ed’s offer? I don’t want to be the guy who stood in the way of your dreams.”

  “How about if my dream is running that sweet store in town and growing pretty things for folks to put in their gardens?”

  Had he heard her right? “And that’s all right with you, Lucy?” He needed her to be sure, quite sure, because his old fears should never be allowed to govern her goals. Her dreams. “You’re sure about that?”

  “One set of crazy is more than enough for any family,” she told him softly, and then she cradled his face in her hands, leaned up on tiptoe, and kissed him. “I would be honored to be your wife. To have your children. To run our home here and make it a place any man would long to come home to. So, yes, Trey. I’ll marry you.”

  He kissed her long and slow until Belle’s excited voice pulled them apart.

  “If you guys are done kissin’, can we go? I’ve got a pwesent for Mr. Sam!”

  In one hand she held a mitt full of flowers with very short stems. In the other she held a coloring page of a cowboy, riding up a hill from a sweet green valley. And up the hill stood one small young cow, waiting to be gathered and brought home.

  Trey stared at the imperfect coloring of the most perfect image and smiled down at her. “He’ll love it, honey.”

  He reached for Lucy’s hand, then paused as a school bus rolled to a stop at the top of the drive.

  The door opened wide. Two boys hopped off. They began running for the house, but when Cade spotted Trey’s SUV, he skidded to a crunching stop.

  He turned, and when he spotted Trey with Lucy and Belle, he raced their way with Cody following. “I knew it!” He let his backpack slide to the ground as he fist-pumped the air. “I knew you would come back, Trey. I knew it all along!”

  Lucy ran interference so that the boys wouldn’t barrel into Trey. “Trey’s hurt, remember? So we can’t grab him and hug him right now, okay?”

  The boys nodded, but there was no missing their matching grins.

  Trey put a hand on Cody’s buzzed head, then bumped knuckles with Cade. “You knew it, huh?”

  Cade nodded firmly, unafraid to claim bragging rights. “I always did. Because when you really love somebody, then you always try your hardest to come back to them. Because it’s the best ever. Right?”

  The boy’s faith went beyond right. It went straight to trust, the kind of trust every child should know firsthand. Trey tugged Cade carefully into his side and wasn’t ashamed to blink back emotion. “Absolutely right, Cade.”

  Lucy took his other hand. She gripped his fingers lightly, with meaning, and they drove back to the Double S, nestled in the rich, sweet valley of Central Washington, and Trey Walker Stafford knew he’d finally come home…again.

  “Afall wedding, a winter wedding, and a spring wedding!” Isabo put the finishing touches on a bridal shower cake and beamed. Then she spotted Sam as he tried to slip out the back door. “Sam, have you forgotten your appointment?”

  Sam stopped in the door, head down. Then he sighed, aggrieved. “I’m fine, Izzie. Just fine.”

  “And that’s the reason we have scheduled these checkups for the first year,” she prattled, “because a man does not know to make sure he is fine until he is not fine, and when his carelessness messes up his son’s beautiful April wedding, he is certain it is not his fault.”

  “I wouldn’t argue with her, Dad.” Nick walked through the kitchen, tested the icing, and grinned approval. “Great icing, Isabo.”

  “Lucky for you I have already frosted Lucy’s celebration cake. Do you want to set up tables for tomorrow’s shower or take Samuel to the lab for blood work?”

  “That’s a no-brainer,” he whispered to Sam. Louder, he said, “I’ll take Dad. Trey’s due in by supper. He’d be glad to help with the tables.”

  “Ashley and I can do the tables,” offered Cheyenne. “They’re not heavy and we want to help get things done. I can’t believe this will be our third wedding in six months!”

  “And a baby on the way.” Ashley and Cheyenne exchanged grins. “I hope it’s a girl, and that Angelina lets us babysit for her.”

  “She will be blessed with much help, no doubt.” Isabo finished the lower cake border and nodded to the girls. “I would love your help setting up, so thank you, girls. And you’ll find the tablecloths on the chest in the great room.”

  “You sure you’ll be okay here, Izzie?”

  Isabo lifted her eyes to Sam’s. Spring birds chorused behind him, and a new generation of Double S signature cattle lowed in the broad pasture, crossing the valley. Elsa’s dog barked in
the distance, as if welcoming folks up the drive. And outside the doors of the rambling ranch house, kids, cats, and dogs ran free in the soft Cascade spring breeze.

  “I have never been better, Sam. I am at peace here, with you. With them.” She gestured to the noise outside. “With all of this. You are healthy and God is good. This is all I need. All I will ever need.”

  She smiled at him. Just him.

  And that smile was enough to make him want to be more cooperative, keep his appointments and stay healthy.

  He’d brought Christine to this valley nearly forty years before. A lot had changed. A lot had happened.

  He’d made mistake on mistake, but when he most needed forgiveness, God had issued it…but with more than one reminder for atonement.

  Nick pulled the SUV up to the porch. “If we hurry, we might be able to grab a box of maple bars. We’ve got to go right through Cle Elum.”

  “Sounds good to me, Son.”

  They pulled out of the drive easy-like. With kids and dogs running amok, no one approached the ranch with any speed. Not anymore.

  And as Nick drove by his newly finished house, they could glimpse the skeletal framing of Trey and Lucy’s new house up the hill.

  Two years before, Sam had dreamed the impossible dream. To have his family reunited, here, in the lush Kittitas Valley, snugged between the rising forms of the Cascade Range. He knew it wouldn’t happen. He knew it couldn’t happen. He’d done too much damage in his time, and there were no quick fixes in sight.

  And then he got sick. Illness threatened his time frame and his life. And for long months, he couldn’t imagine how he could bring his dream about. How he could fix things, just so. Make things right.

  Now he realized he didn’t have to.

  God fixed things.

  God offered chances and choices, and this time Sam chose wisely, even when he didn’t much like the offerings.

  And now this.

  Three sons, three precious boys, now beloved men, were back home finding their place in Central Washington.

  It was everything Sam Stafford dreamed it would be.

  And more.

  FROM LUCY’S KITCHEN

  Lucy took the time to make a personal thank-you for Sam Stafford. It was her “olive branch,” a hand of forgiveness, extended.