Chapter 201

John Davis, Mitch's uncle, sat on the porch, his foot touching the floor every so often to keep the rocker moving. The noise from the night bugs filled the cool air with a sense of peace, and the country farm smell of the horses in the barn was a relaxing elixir. He missed his wife Elizabeth of almost fifty years. She'd been good to him, took care of him, but they never had any children. He had no one to give his last name to, let alone any legacy. When he died, the Davis name would end.

Their home, or his home in Montana was too lonely and had too many reminders of their long and mostly happy life together. Everywhere he saw her handicrafts: the curtains she made for the kitchen window, the embroidered pillowcases, the afghan she'd crocheted to cover her feet on cold winter nights.

It had only been a few months since he'd laid her to rest, but it seemed like years. She'd died inside when she received the diagnosis of terminal cancer about six months ago. She'd said her goodbyes th