I shook my head and grabbed another wheelbarrow of dirt. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Further out, Trey and Mac were overseeing the regrading of the truck path. They moved methodically, teaching a couple of younger guys how to pack the dirt right and add the gravel to create enough for traction without washing out in the next rain.
I glanced over my shoulder when I heard a familiar voice.
“Hey! Need straw over here!”
Jordan stood next to a tree, shovel in hand, sweat streaking his forehead and dirt clinging to his jeans. He waved to a passing group with straw bales, then turned and looked over at me, waiting for a nod of approval.
“You’re doing great work,” I said, walking over to him. “You tired yet?”
He shrugged like it was nothing, though he was clearly sweating. “Little bit. But it’s worth it. This is kinda awesome, actually.”
I looked around and saw what he meant. Slowly but surely, the damage was being repaired. A couple more hours of work, and it would be done. In the fall, I could remove the straw and plant grass seed, but for now, it was starting to look whole again.
By mid-afternoon, the fields didn’t look the same. All the ruts in the field were filled and smoothed, the damaged earth around the trees had been carefully raked and mulched with hay, the saplings that could be saved had been replanted, and the main drives had been graded with new gravel, thanks to a local contractor selling a couple of truckfuls to me at cost.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was solid. And it was enough.
People were tired, but everywhere I looked, there were smiles. The kind that came from doing something hard and knowing it mattered.
Jordan’s face was streaked with dirt, hair sticking up, but he was grinning like he’d just conquered a mountain, which, in a way, he had. Anna and Emalee had packed up the last of the coolers.
I climbed onto the back of one of the flatbeds, cleared my throat, and raised my hand.
Most of the chatter died down without me needing to say anything. A few heads turned. People leaned against tailgates or stood with hands on hips, waiting.
I wasn’t much for speeches. Never had been. But some things need saying.
“I know everyone’s wiped,” I started, voice carrying just enough. “You’ve got blisters and sore muscles, and you’re probably going to find gravel in your socks for the next week. I’m also pretty sure a few of you are going to sleep through your alarms tomorrow.”
A few laughs rolled out across the group, tired but genuine.
“But look at this,” I said, turning slightly to gesture at the field behind me. “This place was a wreckthis morning. Now? Now it looks better than before. Not because it’s perfect, but because we did it together.”
There were a few cheers and claps.
“I don’t take it lightly that you showed up with tools, food, or just willing hands. No one got asked twice. You just came. Early, late, or even on a day off. I’m beyond grateful.” My throat tightened, but I kept going. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about legacy, and what it means. And I’ll tell you this. Sterling Mill has one of the best out there. It isn’t in a name, or our feathered mayor, although don’t tell him that,” I joked, making everyone laugh. “It’s in the way our community shows up for each other. You’ve proven it again and again. So, yeah. Thanks doesn’t feel like enough. But I’ll say it anyway. Thank you. Thank you for showing up.”
Someone let out a loud whistle. Someone else clapped. Then more hands followed—scattered applause that swelled for a moment before fading out into the still evening air.
I rubbed the back of my neck and cleared my throat again. “All right. Before this gets any more sentimental, I’ll end with this. No matter the results of the committee, I know I’ve already won. Because I have you.”
There were a lot of “awws.” I looked across and caught Anna wiping a tear from her eye.
I smiled a little sheepishly. “Now, go home. Shower. And sleep like you earned it. ’Cause you did.”
That got a few more chuckles. Cam gave me a thumbs-up from near her truck. Jordan was beaming under all that dirt. Even Trey cracked a big smile.
Trucks and cars roared to life as people left, and soon it was just members of my family left.
Cam dropped onto one of the ice chests with a groan. “Just leave me right here,” she said dramatically. “I’m too tired to move.”
Mac, sitting nearby, tossed her a bottle of water and smirked. “Not a chance,” he said, voice low and easy. “I’m way too attached to you, trouble and all.”
Cam laughed, tossing the bottle back at him. But there was a glow in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the sun she’d stood in for much of the day. She leaned over and bumped her knee against his. “Lucky for you, I’m not easy to get rid of.”
“Lucky for both of us,” Mac said, his voice softer this time as he helped her up. Then he, Cam, and Trey said goodbye and left, as did Bristol and Reid.
