Chapter Sixty-Two

Jillie and Beth stood arm-in-arm near the cottonwood tree under which their parents’ ashes were scattered while David, Lil, Dix, and Mrs. Potter watched from a respectful distance. A cool mid-October breeze rustled through the tree’s bare branches.

“We miss you,” Jillie said toward the tree. “But we’re okay now.”

“Yes, we are.” Beth glanced over her shoulder at the group of friends who were busy putting food and utensils on a wooden picnic table. Her gaze lingered on David, and she blushed.

Jillie caught the movement and smiled. “In fact, we’re more than okay.” She held out her right hand, palm up. Sunlight glinted off a nickel left by one of the crows. “Aunt Lil says it’s a rare 1943 war nickel, worth a lot of money. Enough so we can tear down the old house and build a new one at the other end of the property. There may even be enough to repair your car, Pops.”

Dix turned to David, her words ringing clearly in the morning air. “I don’t know if you believe in such things, but I like to think Jillie’s parents showed one of the crows where to find that coin.”

Lil rolled her eyes, but otherwise remained silent.

“That’s a nice thought, Aunt Dix,” David said absently. His eyes locked on Beth as he returned her shy look with a smoldering one of his own.

Jillie smiled at the tree and dropped her voice to a whisper. “David likes Beth, and Beth likes him back. You’d like him, too. He has lots of ideas about how to make this place pay for itself.”

Lil took a deep breath. “Are we done here? That burrito I had at the Balloon Fiesta has long since worn off, and I’m hungry enough to eat a buffalo without horseradish.”

“You mean the three burritos you ate,” Dix said.

“I’m with Lil,” Moms Potter said. “I vote we get down to the business of eating that delicious-looking birthday cake and ice cream.”

Beth hugged Jillie so tightly all the air whooshed out of her lungs. “Happy belated twelfth birthday, Chili Bean.”

Jillie returned her sister’s hug. “It was the best birthday ever.”

A series of caws coming from the cottonwood drew Jillie’s attention upward. “Thank you,” she mouthed to the glossy black crow watching from one of the lower branches.

With a final caw, the crow flew upward, circled the group, then flew away.

Amid laughter and smiles, the troop headed toward the table.