Peace in the Valley

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Smitten.

  He frowned as he started on the barn’s east end. He wasn’t smitten. He didn’t have time or energy to be smitten. And what kind of a word was that anyway?

  He turned the radio on, heard his own voice, and turned it right back off again.

  Glib words of hope and heart were the last things he wanted to hear. He wanted—

  He cut boards and fixed them in place with pops of the nail gun, but he couldn’t get images of Lucy out of his mind. Why? After years of enforced solitude, this sudden urge to protect and defend felt alien but good. Real good. And he couldn’t remember the last time he felt just plain good.

  “Trey?” Josh Washington’s voice hollered from out front.

  “Round back.” He had to yell over the combined sounds from the roofing crew as they scraped away layers of neglect.

  Josh gave his progress a thumbs-up. “Not bad for a novice.”

  Trey laughed. “If it’s a straight cut and a nail gun, I do okay. Did you need me for something?”

  “Just to touch base. I figured we’d leave the scaffold set up out front so the boys can start painting. Rye said he’s bringing them by. We’ve got some cloud cover today, so it’s a good day to put a fresh look on the south face. It won’t blister that way.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You’ve gotten a lot done.” Josh tipped his ball cap back as he surveyed Trey’s work. “That coat of paint and the new roof will cap this off.”

  “Can we get the scaffold around back for Friday?”

  “Sure. And we’ll do the same thing, rotate Brendan and the Battaglia boys in to paint. You wanted advice on the porch, I heard.”

  Trey angled the freshly cut board against the sawhorse table and walked Josh across the drive.

  “I’m handy enough to replace the supports and anchor them, then wrap them in four-by-ones.”

  “That’ll give it a good look. I’ve got a jack to help maintain support. You got lumber enough for the long braces?”

  “To support the roof while I’m working, yeah. But I’m not skilled enough to do railings, and they need to be replaced.” Trey pointed out the wet rot from backsplash on the lower wood. “Can one of your guys jump in on those? I’ve got the new door unit ordered so they’ll have a safe, secure porch for the kids, and an entry that doesn’t suck cold in and let heat out every winter.”

  “My Shannon can help with that, as long as someone’s around to help balance things if need be.”

  “Shannon?” Trey pulled back, surprised. “Isn’t she like fourteen?”

  “Exactly fourteen,” Josh told him. “But she’s been by my side for years. She’s got a knack for detail work and fine carpentry.”

  He thought of Ashley, with few skills, but yearning for a job. Maybe hands-on work was part of the answer for kids, like his father believed. He’d taken that Stafford work ethic with him to Nashville, and while others partied or wasted time, he’d holed himself up, writing song after song, playing gig after gig, determined.

  “I’ll be right here with her,” he promised. “Maybe she can teach me a thing or two.”

  Josh laughed. “She most likely could. And keeping a teenager working means they’re not spending every extra moment thinking about stuff best left alone for a few years.” He waved to the roofers, then to Rye Bennett as he pulled in with the three teenage boys. Josh took the boys over to the scaffold and gave them step-by-step instructions. When he’d gotten the teens set up, he headed out while the teens set to work, excited.

  Rye watched them for a moment, then motioned Trey toward his SUV police cruiser. He indicated the teens on the scaffold and kept his voice quiet. “The older Battaglia brother is the one Angelina saved from an overdose after the spring fire.”

  Trey didn’t do users, ever. He started to step back, and Rye held up a hand. “I’m not saying you have to use him, because I know you’re dead set against drugs, but as far as I can tell, it was a one-time stupid mistake, and he’s been squeaky clean ever since. He goes to the church’s Overcomers group, and Lucy’s been a great influence on him. She won’t mind him working here, but I wanted to run it by you.”

  “I don’t know what an Overcomers group is, and I have a healthy and understandable disdain for druggies, Rye. I don’t tolerate them on my team, in my band, or on my tours.”

  “Your call. And the Overcomers is a teen self-help group Lucy got started in the church a couple of years back. With weed legally available now, it’s become pervasive around the schools. And it’s opened up the heroin market, big time. Since the dealers can’t make money on marijuana, they upped their games to other drugs. Heroin’s become a big problem all over.”

  Teens and heroin.

  Trey hated the very thought of teens and drugs. If they’d seen what he’d seen…

  “That’s a lot of responsibility to put on me, Rye.”

  Rye didn’t press. He stood quietly, waiting for Trey to make the call.

  Should he risk it? Could he risk it? He’d already been put through the wringer and hung out to dry once. He scrubbed a hand to the back of his neck, conflicted.

  “I figured you didn’t know,” Rye went on. “And I’d never blindside a friend. Everyone deserves a second chance, but I’ll understand if you pull up the welcome mat and want him gone.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Fifteen.”

  So young to be so stupid. And Ashley, at fourteen, mad at the world and sneaking pot to ease life’s sharp edges.

  “I think back to our time at that age, and I realize your father had us working so hard, we barely had time to think of girls, much less messing up our lives.”

  “I resented that then.” Trey clenched his jaw, thinking. “But now I see it makes sense, especially raising kids on your own.”

  “My mom was the same way, and I see how it helps Brendan and Jenna, but it’s not easy. Say the word and he’s gone, Trey. No one wants to bring trouble down on you or Lucy.”

  Lucy.

  She’d give the kid another chance. He didn’t even need to ask. He’d only known her for a matter of days, but he knew what he saw: a kindhearted person, willing to put her faith in others. He’d been that way once and had sworn never to take a risk like that again. Trey kept his tone short and tight, and didn’t try to mask the doubt. “We’ll give it a try.”

  “All I can ask.” Rye climbed into his cruiser and headed out before he had a chance to change his mind, and a good thing, too, because Trey was close to chasing him down before he made it onto the road.

  “For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.”

  The words from Matthew’s gospel seemed simplistic, as if it was that easy. It couldn’t be, not when lives were at stake. When lives were lost.

  “Trey, is your phone working? Mine died.” Benson approached him, saw the three teens, and turned their way. “Don’t you knuckleheads mess up Trey’s nice work by being sloppy with that paint! And don’t work so slow that it gets tacky before you smooth things out.”

  “We won’t, Benson!” Brendan called down. “My brother already threatened our lives, and so did Colt. Trey would have to stand in line to make us suffer.”

  Trey could picture Rye and Colt saying exactly that. He grinned. “Before your brushes and rollers do get tacky, change them up. Garbage can is right there for the used ones. I’ll be right up to show you what I’m after.”

  “Got it, sir.” The younger Battaglia gave him a little salute, but not in a smart-aleck way.

  Benson clapped him on the back. “We’re going to be two days on the house, then the outbuildings, then the barn. Does that work with your time frame?”

  “Yup.”

  “And do you mind if I turn on some music? The guys asked, but I didn’t want to mess you up if you’d rather have it quiet.”

  “Music’s fine.” He climbed up the scaffold, showed the kids how to work from the top down, blending section by section with the big rollers
and a light touch, then pointed toward the house. “There’s a cooler of drinks on the porch,” he told them, “and we’ve got an outdoor privy coming.” Josh had thought of that, so work crews wouldn’t be asking to enter Lucy’s house. “I’ll be on the far side if you need me.”

  “Okay.”

  Frustration-fed energy drove him. Trey dove into fixing the north-facing side of the barn, and when that was done, he cut and propped the angled supports for the porch to replace the rotting pillars.

  Nick stopped by midday with a huge box of sandwiches and chips, while Trey thought of Lucy, ten minutes west of him, eating with the kids and talking with Isabo.

  He thought of her when a sweep of dark clouds rolled in and rolled right back out again, leaving nothing but sunshine in their wake.

  And as he settled the first porch roof support into place, he wondered what it would be like to sit on this porch awhile, once it was all fixed up and looking new, with Lucy and the kids, singing songs while he plucked his guitar.

  He got all five supports into place before supper. Just before six, Brendan called his name. He turned, and Brendan flagged him over.

  The south side of the barn looked good. No, not just good. It looked great. He eyed the white trim, then the boys. “Who did the white?”

  The older Battaglia boy hesitated, then poked his hand up. “I did, sir.”

  “Yeah?” Trey eyed the work, then looked at the kid again. “What’s your name?”

  “Mark.”

  “And you’re Jacob, right?” He looked at the younger brother.

  “Yes sir.”

  He faced Mark again. “The trim looks good. You scraped it down exactly like you were supposed to and didn’t cut any corners. Come back tomorrow, all three of you, and we’ll keep going.”

  Brendan high-fived him. “Sweet! Are there any sandwiches left?”

  “Angelina did the ordering, so I’m sure there are. She’s not afraid to feed people or spend money. You guys did all right today.”

  “My brother won’t be here to get us for almost an hour,” Brendan went on. “Is it okay if we take the food down to the pond out back?”

  “Long as you don’t mess around.”

  “We won’t.”

  He followed them down the ladder, put it away, and then had Benson’s crew help him relocate the scaffolding to the north side. He asked Benson to keep an eye on things the following day, and the roofer agreed.

  Trey had promised Lucy a day to work in the trees, and he knew Jenna would be fine watching the kids up at the ranch, but he didn’t like the thought of Lucy having to do the work alone. He knew nothing about trimming evergreens, but he could learn.

  Thursday’s primary goal, though, was visiting the surgeon. After that, he’d see if he was still in the frame of mind to trim trees or beg God for courage to undergo this surgery.

  Did being nervous make him a coward? Or did it make him smart?

  Trey was uncertain, but when Lucy drove the van up to the house a few minutes later, it wasn’t just his heart that felt good. It was everything about her, making him feel stronger, braver, and bolder.

  “That looks amazing!” She climbed out of the van, followed by a scramble of kids, and she took his arm as she looked at the barn. “I can’t believe how much nicer it looks, Trey. It’s beautiful already.”

  She hugged him.

  A simple hug of gratitude shouldn’t have meant much, but suddenly he wished she would just go on hugging him. Talking to him. Smiling so wide and happy when she saw him.

  He hugged her back and when she peeked up from the curl of his arm, it was all he could do not to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her.

  He wanted to laugh with her, walk with her, and spend time with her, and kissing her jumped right into the equation.

  “Do you like my mom?”

  Cade’s direct question pulled Trey back to reality. Lucy’s emotions weren’t the only ones involved here. Three little kids and an insolent teen were part of the deal. He kept things light as he dropped his arm. “I sure do. I like you too. This one, I’m not too sure about,” he teased. He picked Cody up and tossed him over his shoulder. “But he’s growing on me. Come on over here and see what we’ve got done.”

  He took them into the barn where the new supports shone bright against old, weathered wood. “Nice and solid now. The front’s done, although I think it would look real nice with a lean-to coming off from about midway up, don’t you? And maybe wrap it around the front for more display space?” He directed his attention away from the giggling kid slung over his shoulder and back to the kid’s mother. “Then the front section of the barn could be a shop for folks buying Christmas things to go with their trees and wreaths and all those greenery things.”

  “A shop?” She looked up at him as if he might have just grown another head. “There’s no money to build a shop inside the barn. But it is a great idea. I’ve always thought it would be fun to have a retail area inside, with some fresh baked goods and hot spiced cider. But that kind of thing requires funding, and you know the business climate around here. No one is waiting to hand a single mother a small-business loan.”

  She lived in a different world, he realized. He’d jumped into his career with both feet, unfettered by responsibilities to others and with a trust fund to get him through the lean times. Single parents didn’t generally have that option. “We’ll table that discussion.” He jerked his head to the left as he set Cody down. “Let’s check out my ideas for this porch.” He walked them back across the stone driveway and tapped one of the roughed-in pillars. “You’ve got to use a little imagination here, Ms. Lucy.”

  She rolled her eyes, and that made him smile wider.

  “The new supports have brought the roof back to level again.”

  “I noticed that as soon as I turned into the driveway. It’s a straight line from left to right, a huge improvement.”

  “I’m going to finish the pillars off and we’ll paint them white, then Josh is sending Shannon over to work on the railings.”

  “Shannon Washington?” Ashley looked surprised and a little envious. “She knows how to do wood stuff ?”

  “He said he’s been teaching her carpentry for years.”

  “She’s in my grade.” Ashley studied the porch, doubtful.

  “You’re getting a job at the Double S,” noted Lucy. “You’re both growing up.”

  “But it’s not like I know anything,” Ashley argued, more with herself than with Lucy, and that was a welcome change. “I didn’t know she liked to do that kind of stuff. Like she knows how to work saws and tools?”

  “So he says.”

  “Wow.” She sounded sincere. “That’s pretty cool.”

  “There’s a lot of cool stuff in this world, Ash,” Lucy said gently. “We’ve just got to open our eyes to it.”

  Belle reached out her arms for Trey. “Can you carry me up high, pwease?”

  “Colt puts Noah up on his shoulders,” Lucy explained. “Belle, I—”

  Trey picked Belle up and swung her over his shoulders, then waited while she settled herself and wrapped her legs around his neck. “As I was saying,” he went on as if carrying preschoolers on his shoulders was an everyday occurrence, “we’ll get the porch finished and painted. The house roof should be done by the weekend, and then they’re doing the shed roofs. So maybe we can slap some fun paint on that chicken house over the weekend.”

  “I can’t believe how much is getting done, and so fast.” Lucy gazed around. “I can see it, Trey. See what it will look like.”

  “I’m going to have Hobbs bring the grade scraper over when we’re done. He loves running big stuff, so he’ll be in his glory as long as he doesn’t mow down the house or take out a barn support.” He added a wince for dramatic effect. “He can scrape down the driveway here and the lane going behind the barn, toward the trees. I don’t think you’ll need fresh stone. It’s just gotten slogged down into the surface. And that will get rid of those potholes.”


  —

  No potholes would mean a smooth drive for customers. A new van. Solid porch supports and a renovated barn.

  Tears smarted her eyes. She blinked them back as Ashley ran into the house to answer the phone, but when Trey turned to point out something else, he noticed right off. “You’re upset.”

  “I’m not. I’m happy,” she insisted. She dashed a hand to her face and breathed deep. “A little overwhelmed. But happy.”

  “Can we have cookies, Mom?” Cody asked. He grabbed her hand to gain her attention. “Angelina said she sent a bunch.”

  “She did and I put them on the kitchen table,” Trey told her.

  She told the boys yes, and they raced for the kitchen like half-starved pups. “They’re always hungry.”

  “Fuel for running around like a pair of crazy kids. Do they play any sports yet, or are they too young?”

  They weren’t too young, but her options had been limited by lack of discretionary funds. “Money’s tight. I’m not complaining,” she added firmly. “Or whining. There’s nothing wrong with having to make frugal decisions with kids.”

  “Did they get a chance to work with Hobbs or Murt today?”

  She laughed because Sam had insisted that Hobbs let Joe cut hay while he worked with the boys. “Yes. Your father’s orders. And the boys loved it, of course. I have to be careful though.” She wasn’t sure how to phrase her concerns. She paused a moment, then decided to just spit it out.

  “This, all of this”—she waved her hand to encompass the barn, the house, the small farm—“is amazing. And I’m grateful for your father’s desire to make things right, and for your help. This is huge for me, and I can’t find proper words to express my gratitude. What your family has done for us is incredible, but it’s not the norm for us, and I have to make sure that I keep these kids grounded. When all this comes to an end, we still need to go on about our daily business, satisfied with what we have.”

  “Why does it have to end?”

  She didn’t hear him just ask that, did she? The sun was in her eyes when she looked up, so she stepped to the right.