Miriam accompanied me.
We followed a trail through enormous hardwood trees, crossed a narrow wooden bridge, and climbed toward a meadow where the grass moved silver in the wind.
Thomas had installed small wooden signs identifying different sections of the property.
Some were practical.
North Trail.
Spring Crossing.
Old Orchard.
One sign stopped me.
It stood beneath a young flowering dogwood.
LEAH’S PLACE
I touched the letters.
Miriam smiled.
“He put that up last spring.”
“Why?”
“He said you needed somewhere to sit and think without anybody asking you to do something.”
Beyond the sign stood a wooden bench overlooking the valley.
On its underside, Thomas had carved a small heart.
Inside were our initials.
T + L.
I sat down.
The wind moved gently through the branches.
For a long time, I said nothing.
Then Miriam sat beside me.
“Can I tell you something about your husband?”
I nodded.
