by Ava Miles
Memories of them swapping half-eaten ice cream cones filled her mind. Good days. Carefree days. It had been a long time ago. “Butter pecan.”
The corners of his eyes deepened as his smile spread. “We’re both a couple of nuts. We’ll have to take Miss Lucy for ice cream soon. She doesn’t get much when she’s overseas.”
No, she didn’t. In some countries, she had to bring her own food, not knowing if there would be a shortage or if the local food would be safe.
“Cool!” Danny said, jumping in the air. “I like Mr. O’Brien too. He gives me free soda at Hairy’s.”
She could only imagine what Andy thought of that, being a health-conscious doctor and all. “Soda and ice cream are the best,” Lucy said, “but my favorite treats are cinnamon rolls.”
“From Margie?” Danny asked, letting go of his dad’s leg and closing the gap between them. “She makes the best ones since Mrs. Kemstead re… Dad, what did Mrs. Kemstead do?”
“Retired,” Andy easily answered.
“Right. Did you know my mom?”
Lucy shot a quick glance at Andy, struggling to hide her surprise at the abrupt question. She’d met Danny a few times since his birth, but it made sense that he wouldn’t remember her relationship with his mother.
“Yes, I did,” she said, crouching down until she was eye level with the boy. “She was a really nice lady, and she loved you a lot.”
She’d spoken to countless children who’d lost loved ones, but it felt jarring to do it in Dare Valley. This was her safe place. Nothing was supposed to go wrong here.
Danny pointed to the ceiling. “She’s in heaven now,” he told her with an earnest shake of his head. “She’s an angel and looks after everyone in Dare Valley. But especially me and Dad.”
Her chest squeezed. Andy had a heart of gold for telling his son that. “Dare Valley is lucky to have her on their side.”
“Yep,” he said and then looked back at his dad. “Can Miss Lucy come over and show me her new animal photos sometime?”
“If she has any new ones,” Andy said. She looked up to see him studying her with the same intense scrutiny she’d noticed in her father’s gaze. “It seems like she’s been really busy the past few weeks.”
She took her time studying him right back, refusing to be intimidated. Little did he know she’d been convalescing, first in a South African hospital and then in a hotel room near her doctors’ offices, waiting to be given travel approval to return home.
“You tell me what day works, and we’ll make it happen,” she told Danny, rising carefully to her full height, being mindful of the lingering soreness in her back.
“You can come anytime,” Andy said. “Danny, how about we find you a healthy snack? Lots of other people are waiting patiently to talk to Miss Lucy, so we shouldn’t monopolize her time.”
“You’re not monopolizing me,” Lucy quickly answered. “I’ve…been looking forward to seeing you.” She’d wanted to tell him everything, but to what purpose? He’d only worry, and besides, he’d had a recent scare with his mother’s health. The last thing she wanted to do was add more to his plate.
“They are monopolizing you,” a gravely voice said behind her. “But that’s a doctor for you. Always making you wait, even if you’re lying on death’s doorstep.”
She turned around as Arthur Hale tapped his cane on the dark hardwood floor to garner her attention. “Hello, Mr. Hale.”
“I keep telling you not to call me that, girl. Aren’t you nearing forty now? High time to give in and call me Arthur. You’d better, or I may bean you with my cane.”
“Okay,” she said, laughing. “You’ve convinced me.”
“Come over here, Lucy, and give an old man a hug,” he said, thrusting his cane to his very pregnant granddaughter.
“Hi, Meredith,” Lucy said, watching as the woman handed the cane to her husband. “Hello, Tanner. It’s been a while.”
Of course, she’d met the warzone correspondent in a few hotspots. Expatriate communities were smaller than a small town like Dare Valley in some ways.
“Good to see you too, Lucy,” Tanner said. “I’m going to be sneaking into one of your classes this fall when I’m not teaching myself. I have a feeling I could learn a thing or two.”
“Didn’t I tell you teaching was a fine idea, Lucy?” Arthur said, ambling forward and hugging her briefly. “Tanner here loves it.”
The former correspondent nodded like he still couldn’t believe it. “Who knew?”
“I’m glad I could arrange it with the Dean of Journalism last minute after you called me,” Arthur continued. “You young people never plan anything anymore.”
Lucy hadn’t been in much of a position to plan anything. But she was also not very good at sitting still. She’d made a call to Arthur, the one person who could make miracles happen at the last minute, as soon as she realized her right eye needed more time to heal. Though she wasn’t eager to start teaching, at least she’d be doing something related to her profession.
“Didn’t you just tell me I’m nearing forty?” she asked. “I can’t be young and old at the same time.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re still younger than I am, my dear, and that will never change. All that matters is that you’re finally teaching here after all the years I’ve been asking you. We need more professors who can show these green-behind-the-ears journalists about the proper use of photos to tell a story. No one’s better at that than you are, Lucy.”
“Amen,” Tanner said, and she was humbled by their respect.
“Your last photo on the cover of Time magazine of the young Congolese girl dragging an AK-47 up that dusty road to the peacekeepers in exchange for a chicken pretty much did me in,” Arthur said. “I might have gotten misty-eyed.”
“Me too!” a woman behind her suddenly exclaimed. Lucy turned around to see Moira Hale standing a few yards away. “Sorry, I was eavesdropping,” Moira said with a shrug. “I’m a big fan of your work.”
“Thank you,” she said, giving Andy’s sister a warm smile.
“Hard not to be a fan,” Arthur said, tapping her to regain her attention. “Tell us how that photo came about.”
“Well…” she began, remembering the moment she’d seen the little girl approaching the battalion of UN peacekeepers.
Dressed in what amounted to dirty rags, her bones protruding from her skin, the child had looked to be all of seven. Though Lucy hadn’t immediately understood what the little girl wanted, she’d pulled her camera out on instinct.
The girl had spoken in hesitant French, a language Lucy spoke fluently, asking if the peacekeepers would trade her the gun she’d found for a chicken so she and her younger siblings could eat. Their parents were dead, killed by the warring forces destroying the eastern part of the country, and she was responsible for her remaining family. They hadn’t eaten a decent meal in weeks.
The commander had sent for a chicken from their compound. Not all of the peacekeepers helped the unfortunate like that. There were simply too many of them. But the girl’s request for a weapon-for-food trade had sparked an idea in the commander’s mind. Everyone wanted to rid the Congo of the barrage of weapons destroying the country, so perhaps a gun-for-food exchange was the place to start.
Lucy had stayed through the whole process, taking hundreds of photos. When the girl left with the bag holding the dead chicken clutched to her chest, Lucy had turned away and cried.
Only three of those photos had been published, but they told a powerful story.
She tried to hold on to her memory of that story and others like it after everything that had happened.
“Amazing,” Moira said when Lucy was finished. The younger woman had edged closer with the telling.
“I owe my start to you, Arthur,” Lucy said, carefully hugging the older man who blustered protests in her ear. “If you hadn’t agreed to let me intern at The Western Independent in high school, where would I be now?”
“Bah!�
� Arthur exclaimed. “In the same place you are now. Since the moment your daddy put that first Polaroid in your hands, you were destined to take great photos. You have a gift, Lucy.”
It humbled her to hear such high praise from one of America’s journalistic legends. “Thank you for saying that, Arthur.” The name was still uncomfortable on her tongue.
“How about you come down to my office after you settle in?” He held out his hand for his cane, which Tanner extended to him. “I want to talk to you about taking some photos for me and writing an op-ed while you’re here.”
Arthur’s Sunday op-ed was famous among politicians and business leaders, and readers everywhere were compelled by his take on the ever-changing nature of America. Arthur Hale didn’t just have his hand on the pulse of the West anymore.
“I’d be honored to write something for you, but as for photos, I can’t say there’s much to capture in Dare Valley.”
“Don’t be so sure about that, honey,” her mother called out.
She glanced over her shoulder to see what her mother was talking about, but someone grabbed her hand and pressed a cold glass into it. Judging from the shape of the glass, her beer had arrived. “Finally. I was wondering where you were, Dad. What’s the score?”
“The Raiders just took the lead. Sorry, I got caught up with Blake. I know it’s only pre-season and all, but…”
“You have the chance to watch the game with the former Raiders’ quarterback,” she said knowingly.
“Yeah,” her dad said, cheeks reddening. “I try not to freak him out by rolling out player stats. Blake’s a great guy. It’s good to see him and Natalie back together.”
She already knew about that, both from Andy, who was close to his sister, and from her mother, who kept her up to date on everything from the Hales’ comings and goings to the town’s dynamics. Sometimes Lucy wondered if her mother told those stories as a way of reminding her what she was missing. Since Lucy didn’t share the gritty details of what she saw overseas with her parents other than through her photos and articles, she appreciated her mother doing most of the talking. Usually.
Lucy turned to Meredith. “Your baby is due pretty soon, I hear.”
“Yes, and we can’t wait,” she said, rubbing her belly.
“And you look pretty settled for a former war correspondent,” Lucy told Tanner.
He nodded. “I’ll come by your office at Emmits. We can talk about ‘settling’ into Dare Valley after leaving the fast lane. It was weird in the beginning.”
Her office at Emmits? She’d never had an office before. For that matter, she’d never had a home besides this one. She traveled from assignment to assignment, occasionally stopping for a brief siesta in a short-term rental in London or Rome or Cairo.
She always traveled light, not wanting to be weighed down by stuff. Her mother checked her P.O. box at the Dare Valley Post Office for her, which allowed her to keep her state residence and driver’s license, and forwarded any mail to her current address overseas. The system had worked seamlessly for her whole career.
“I’m…ah…not sure I’m staying permanently,” she said carefully. “I only have the fall term in mind right now.”
Meredith cast Tanner a measured glance, and he rubbed her shoulder as if to assure her everything was all right. Some said the adrenaline from working in war zones never left one’s blood. Lucy had been running on it for too many years to know if she was going to be any different.
“You might change your mind, Lucy,” Arthur said, tapping his cane on the floor. “While few things are more important than a good story, you still have to live your life.”
Hadn’t she been doing that? She loved traveling from one place to the next. She lived for it. Now the future had been transformed to one big question mark. Looking away from Arthur, her gaze landed on Andy. He was still studying her. Yeah, he knew something was up with her and this unexpected return home.
She hoped he would give her some time before he asked her what it was.
Chapter 2
From the time Lucy O’Brien could walk, she’d been an unstoppable force. Andy had seen more than one childhood photo of her dragging him along as he struggled on his then-chubby legs to keep up with her. Over the years, his best friend had talked him into climbing treacherous trees and skiing down death-defying mountain passes.
So her choice of career hadn’t surprised him. Of course she’d gone overseas to take photographs of distant places riddled with war and poverty. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t worried.
He was more than worried now.
She was too skinny for her five-foot-five frame, and her hair didn’t possess its natural luster. Being a doctor, he knew what illness looked like. Lucy’s body was still mending from some sickness or injury. And she hadn’t said a word about it.
Well, that was going to change. When he thought she was ready, he was going to ask what had brought her home to Dare Valley after all these years of insisting it was too small, too provincial. Even her parents weren’t buying her bullshit answer that she needed some time off from the fast lane. It wasn’t in Lucy’s nature to proceed slowly. She was a sports car on a highway filled with sensible vehicles.
“She doesn’t look good, does she?” his sister, Moira, whispered to him.
He was so focused on Lucy, he hadn’t even noticed his sister’s approach. He’d thought she was still on the edges of the group huddled around Lucy. It hadn’t surprised him to see Moira listening to his friend with such interest. Few could top Lucy in the story department, and Moira was an amateur photographer, after all.
“Shh,” he hissed. “Do you want someone to hear? There’s no need to worry her parents more.”
Since he was her eldest sibling, Moira usually listened to what he had to say. When she rolled her eyes, he realized he must be off his game.
“Her parents are already worried,” she said, tucking her chin-length brown hair behind her ear. “You can see it on their faces.”
“Give Lucy some time to tell us what’s going on,” he whispered back, tugging Moira over to the corner next to a ficus tree. “She just got home.”
His sister gave him the kind of look she probably usually reserved for when she had to fire people in her capacity as human resources director at a top Denver engineering firm. Sometimes Moira could be an ass-kicker, and apparently she was about to kick his.
“She doesn’t need time,” his sister said in an aggrieved tone. “She needs a best friend who’s willing to listen. Whatever happened must have been horrible. Especially if she didn’t tell you! You’re her best friend.”
He’d already thought of that, and it had dried up all the spit in his mouth.
“Ask her to take a walk with you, Andy. Right now.”
“In the middle of her homecoming party?” he asked, aghast. “Ellen would kill me. Slowly.”
“No, she won’t,” Moira informed him with a determined shake of her head. “She and Mom are hoping you two finally hook up and have babies now that you’re both back in Dare Valley. Sorry, that was probably a little brusque, but it’s true.”
Yeah, Moira knew it was hard for him to think about moving on with anyone after losing Kim, let alone with the friend he’d known since babyhood. His stomach wrenched. He’d hoped his mother would understand that, even if Ellen didn’t. Not only because Lucy was Lucy, but also because he was taking his time with the whole dating thing.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Moira said, giving him a push for good measure. “It’s not like you have to give in to their fantasies. Just go talk to her.”
The more she nudged, the more he wanted to dig his heels in. “Lucy will tell me when she wants to. We respect each other that way.” Which was why her silence hurt. He was smart enough to realize how much of her life she censored from their Skype chats and emails, but he’d never thought she’d hold back something important.
“Hogwash, as Uncle Arthur says. Are you afraid to hear what happened?”
&nbs
p; “Maybe a little,” he admitted softly.
He wasn’t sure he could stand any more tragedy, which was why he hadn’t asked more questions. He’d fretted over Lucy’s sudden announcement that she was coming home. Even then, he’d realized there was something behind it—some dark story. But how was he supposed to help her when he was still shoring up the devastation inside him and trying to start over? He felt guilty—and weak. Lucy deserved better than that from him.
Moira put her hand on his arm. “Imagine how alone she must feel. No one has more respect for Lucy than I do, which is why I just embarrassed myself by having a fan moment. The places she goes and the images she captures… Even I’m not that tough.”
He studied her no-nonsense expression. “You’re plenty tough.” Right now, he was starting to feel a little bullied. Thank God, his mother and two other sisters hadn’t jumped on the pile with Moira. Otherwise, he’d be suffocating.
“Be her friend,” Moira said with another push. “You can do it, Andy Cakes.”
He gritted his teeth. “I hate it when you call me that.”
“That’s why even Lucy still uses the nickname.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Now, go. I’ll keep an eye on Danny.”
Since she wasn’t going to give him an inch, he rolled his shoulders and prepared himself to face Lucy again. “You’re a pest.”
“And you’re our hero,” Moira said, giving him a sporty pat on the behind that made him snarl. “That’s why you were born in the number one slot, and I chose number four.”
He hated being the eldest sometimes. Everyone expected him to be responsible and supportive, to set a good example. At moments like this, he wished he could give them all the bird.
“Fine, I’m going,” he said. “But don’t ever pat me on the butt again.”
Moira was laughing as he set off to talk to Lucy. She was now surrounded by a new crowd—one much less interested in her journalistic endeavors. Andy’s two other sisters, Natalie and Caroline, saw him and shifted to include him in the huddle. His mom shot him an eager smile—God help him—as Lucy mentioned having a few appointments to see rental properties in the next couple of days.
