Home to Walnut Ridge by Diane Moody Read Free Book Online

Hank’s your man if you
need any sweeping,” Buddy added, patting the redhead on his
shoulder. “He’s got a real knack for knowing how to clean things up
in a jiffy. We couldn’t manage without him.”
    “ I was head of maintenance
at State,” he announced.
    “ Really? I had lots of
friends who went to State,” Tracey said.
    His brows drew close together, but he
said nothing.
    “ Ah, she means Tennessee
State University,” Gristle said. “Nah, Miss Tracey, he wadn’t at no
college. He was at‍—‍”
    “ Never mind that,
Gristle,” Buddy interrupted. “How about you and Stump go take a
look outside and see which limbs need to be trimmed off that big
elm tree.”
    “ Sho’nuff, Buddy. We on
it.”
    “ Noah, come tell us what
you think,” Alex said. “Any ideas for turning this decrepit old
building into a quaint little shop with a workroom toward the
back?”
    For the next hour, they tossed around
ideas, brainstorming how to best use the space available. Tracey
remembered her grandfather once telling her that the original
smokehouse, a stone’s throw from the kitchen wing at Walnut Ridge,
was used only for the family. The “new” larger smokehouse where
they now stood, was added a few years later when the plantation had
begun to flourish. By that time, the family had sold off part of
Walnut Ridge to a friend in need. As a result, the spacious
smokehouse sat on the county road that bordered the east property
line. Then, almost a century later during the depression, Hiram
Collins doubled the size of the building. With so many of the
townspeople and those in neighboring counties in need, he wanted a
place where folks could stop by and pick up a slab of bacon or some
ground beef or stew meat.
    Tracey loved the story, picturing her
great, great grandfather graciously providing for those who had
little or nothing. “God doesn’t bless us to spoil us,” he was known
for saying. “He blesses us so that we might bless others.” Looking
at the men around her, it seemed Buddy Collins was carrying on the
family legacy. Tracey felt a lump in her throat, so filled with
love for her father and the incredible miracle that had taken place
in his own life. Here, decades later, Buddy blessed his Elders and
by doing so, showed them how to bless others.
    “ Those are some great
ideas, Noah,” Alex said, interrupting Tracey’s thoughts. “When do
you think y’all might get started?”
    He scratched his head for a moment.
“How about this afternoon?”

Chapter 5
     
    Noah let himself in the
back door of the cottage and tossed his keys on the kitchen table.
He grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and took a bite as
he kicked off his boots. The face of Buddy’s younger daughter
drifted into mind. Funny, he’d never given much thought to the one
called Tracey Jo who worked in Washington. He wasn’t sure why he’d
assumed she was the nerdy type, all caught up in politics. He
realized she was anything but nerdy. Still, she was just home for a week or
two. He doubted he’d see much more of her.
    His mind switched gears, brimming with
ideas for the smokehouse conversion. When Buddy first mentioned the
idea, he wasn’t sure if he should commit to helping. He still
hadn’t heard back from Dawson’s people about the concerts they had
scheduled between now and the holidays. Last he heard, Beau Dawson
was having some kind of problem with his vocal cords and his
doctors hadn’t signed off for him to go back on the road yet. Noah
wondered if the problem was indeed medical or if Dawson was having
marital problems again.
    None of it mattered to Noah. He wasn’t
invested in their lives, as such. He was nothing more than hired
help. Most folks in the business just knew him as “Beau Dawson’s
guitar guy” and didn’t bother with his name. Which suited Noah just
fine. He’d lived in that world of who’s-who once and didn’t miss
it.
    He iced down a glass of water and took
a seat on the sofa, stretching