ANNIE WATCHED AS three stonemasons replaced mortar joints and reset some of the stones. Two other men pulled down charred timbers and parts of the roof truss. A large dumpster sat in the front yard and the damaged materials were tossed into it, making way for the new. It was a relief to see the house getting the attention it needed.
Annie thought back to the day when she found the letters and how it had led her all the way to Italy and back. If the house had been picked apart for salvage and then torn down, the letters might not have been found, which meant Benito would have been lost to them forever.
It had been an unbelievable week. Now, there was a house to restore, a job to find, more research on the stone house’s history, and preparations for Scott and Mary Beth’s wedding.
Lindy called on her cell.
“I heard all about Italy at Evelyn’s yesterday. Annie, it’s truly amazing. I’m so happy for you all.”
“How do you feel about your dad and Evelyn?” Annie asked.
“Gosh, I love Evelyn, and Jake’s awesome, so how could it not be good? I want Dad to be happy. I’m glad to know it’s love and not the early stages of dementia, although they sure have some of the same symptoms.”
“How’re you doing with Rob’s engagement?” Annie asked, her voice gentle.
“I heard from a mutual friend he’s getting married this weekend,” Lindy said, a slight break in her voice.
“No way, already?” Annie said. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know. I thought it’d be a long engagement and maybe he’d come to his senses,” she said. “Now I have my resolution.”
“That is something.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” Lindy said, and hung up.
***
Annie left the stone house and walked to the crossover place dividing the Campbell farm from the Wilder farm. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she spotted Jake bent over a wire coil near the back pasture, at the base of a wooded hill.
“Hey you,” she said, after making her way to him.
He looked up, sweat beading his brow, and grinned back at her.
“You got here just in time. Can you hold this for a minute while I tie this end?”
Annie took the spool of wire and watched him work with pliers and wire cutters.
“I talked to Lindy just now,” she said. “Rob is getting married this weekend.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “They want different things.”
They were silent a minute as Annie thought about how delicate love was and how the dance before marriage had to be handled so carefully.
“You need to be careful going through the field now. I don’t want you to get shocked,” Jake said as he twisted a wire.
“What’s next after you get the cows set up?” she asked.
“A few goats are coming next week. It’s slow integrating and balancing it all, and we’re going into winter. Next spring I’ll get chickens for the pasture.”
“Farming is not immediate gratification,” Annie mused.
“Not with a gestation period of nine months for a cow,” he said. “Waiting through seasons for a harvest. But life’s meant to be slower.”
“Speaking of a slower life,” she said. “In Italy, everything closes down from around twelve-thirty to three, or sometimes as late as four-thirty, so everyone can go home and eat lunch, take a nap, whatever else they want to do before going back to work in the evening. It kind of makes sense, to rest in the heat of the day when your body naturally gets sleepy.”
“The seasons and cycles tell us what to do. Humans aren’t too good at listening,” he said.
Jake’s cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his front pocket. He looked at the number and she waved for him to go ahead and answer the call.
“It’s okay. I can take it later,” he said, slipping it back into his pocket.
“I don’t mind,” she said.
“It can wait,” he said, concentrating on the electric fence.
It was only ten minutes later when Jake’s phone rang again. He looked at the number.
“Sorry, I need to take this. See you tonight?” he said, and walked toward his truck before he answered.
“Sure,” she said, realizing she had been dismissed. When she left, he was talking quietly into the telephone and looking over his shoulder to make sure she was walking away.
***
When Annie walked in the back door, Beulah called out.
“Richwood Manor called and Vesta Givens has asked to see you right away.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t think so, but it seems important.”
“Do you want to go with me?” Annie asked.
Beulah wiped her hands on her apron.
“Yes, I’ll go. Give me just a minute to get my pocketbook.”
Vesta Givens was finishing her lunch in the cafeteria when they arrived.
“Hello, Vesta,” Beulah said, and extended her hand.
“Beulah, it’s been a long time,” Vesta said, taking Beulah’s hand and holding it for a moment. “I’m so glad you came. You’ll be thrilled to hear what I have to say.”
“Did you find out something about the old stone house?” Annie asked.
Vesta grinned. “Let’s go back to my room. Annie, do you mind pushing my chair?” Annie moved behind her, pulled Vesta’s chair away from the table and toward the hallway. She went slowly, so her grandmother could walk with them. One of the residents caught Beulah’s hand as they passed by, so Beulah stayed back to talk with the woman while she continued to push Vesta down the hall.
“How was Italy?” Vesta asked. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yes,” she said. “I have several cousins and they are the nicest people.”
“Your great-uncle’s love … is she still alive?” Vesta asked.
“No, but her child is alive and well. He has children and grandchildren.”
“So, your mother and this child would be first cousins. You are his first cousin once removed. You are second cousins to his children. His grandchild would be your second cousin once removed.”
“Not sure I can keep all that straight,” Annie laughed.
“That’s why most people just say ‘cousins.’ But if you deal in genealogy or legal terms, the distinction is quite important.”
At Vesta’s room, Annie turned the wheelchair and parked it where Vesta pointed.
“Do you have a report for me?” Vesta said, lifting her chin and raising her eyebrows in expectation.
“About the Ethiopian and his skin?” Annie said.
“Yes,” Vesta said.
“What is impossible with man is possible with God,” Annie said. “My family name or my history doesn’t have to define who I am.”
Vesta smiled. “There is always hope. There’s far more to the scripture when you examine the historical and cultural context, but that’s what I wanted you to understand.”
Beulah came into the room.
“Beulah, please sit here on the bed. It will be the most comfortable. Annie, can you hand me those papers over there on top of the bookshelf?”
She reached for the papers and handed the stack to Vesta.
“After you left, I remembered one of my former students who is particularly good at research. She is a professional genealogist and has a vast knowledge of historic documents. I asked her to look into our matter. While you were gone, she mailed this to me.”
Vesta handed a page to Annie with two sections highlighted.
“Please read both of the highlighted sections, out loud, so Beulah can hear as well.”
Annie cleared her throat.
From the letters of William Champ, pioneer and settler of Fort Paint Lick.
I had left Logan’s Fort on my way home but went round by the crab orchard to see the house of stone. Josiah May and his sons worked that day alongside the Negros he hired from John Douglas. The house raised higher than the tallest man and they were still laying stone. Josiah told me it was the first of its kind in Kentucke territory. I believe it since I have heard nor seen no other. It will make a fine house.
Beulah’s mouth dropped open.
“You found it!”
Vesta’s tinkling laugh flowed like water.
“My people were right,” she said, nodding her head.
“They were right,” Annie said, “and now we have proof. We can apply for the grant.”
“And the historical marker,” Beulah said. “Honoring both families’ contribution to the house.”
“Will you help me with the application for the marker?” Annie asked.
“Certainly, if you will do the first draft.” Then she looked stern. “But I am a demanding editor, I hope you know. My red pen is itching,” Vesta said.
“I’ll do my best,” Annie said, solemnly. “What are you reading these days, by the way?”
“Christie and Sayer,” Vesta said. “After the Russians, I like detective stories. They’re like the palate cleanser between courses,” Vesta said, her eyes dancing.
“Beulah, do you like to read like your granddaughter?”
“I enjoy magazines and recipe books. I reckon I save most of my reading for the Bible.”
“Well, it is another thing we have in common,” Vesta said. Then Vesta looked at Annie.
“I suppose you won’t be back after we get all this business settled,” she said, smoothing out the wrinkles in the lap of her dress.
Annie kneeled down next to the wheelchair.
“Well, there’s the matter of the dedication if they grant us the historical marker. You might like to see the old stone house before the weather turns bad, as well. I’ve also been thinking about reading another Russian author, if you have a recommendation,” she said.
Vesta Givens smiled. “Did you know our activities director gave her notice this morning? They’ll be looking for a new director,” Vesta said.
“Activities director? That has a nice ring to it. I’ll stop by and pick up an application on my way out.”