Ree stood at the sink rinsing dishes, looking out the window onto the sharp slope of bare trees, looming rock ledges and a thin mud trail. Storm wind shoved limbs around and whistled past the window frame, hooted down the stovepipe. The sky came into the valley low, glum and blustery, about to bust open and snow.

They contemplate the photos. Ashlee arranges her horse on the table in front of her. Ree turns over a small portrait photo of a woman and reads aloud the inscription on the back. “I don’t know how I ever latched on to someone like you, but I sure hope I can keep you interested in me forever. I love you and will always be true.”

“You are who I always did think you were, darlin’. You truly are.”

“It’s been a while, Sweet Pea.”