Page 3 of The Calendar of New Beginnings (Dare Valley #9)

“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.