The boys were rough and tough with each other, and their aggression surprised Libby a little. As an only child, she had never competed with a sibling for her parents’ attention.

Jeff made a face at Sam, who quickly pushed him. The last time she had been pregnant, she had secretly searched Pinterest for images of nurseries. And when the ultrasound had confirmed she was having a girl, her focus had shifted from blues and toy trucks to pinks, little dresses, and bows.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs as Libby took a sip of wine. The soft, mellow blend of grapes tasted lovely, and if she were not so worried about carrying on a conversation with Elaine, she would have indulged a bit more.

Elaine appeared with a bright grin on her face. She smiled at Sam, Jeff, Colton, Margaret, and then Libby. “You all do clean up nicely. My apologies for being late. I was on the phone with Lofton. Turns out she can’t make it tonight, so it will just be us.”

Margaret cast a pointed gaze at Elaine before she said, “You folks need to get out of my kitchen for another fifteen minutes while I finish up supper. Go on outside and enjoy the weather.”

Elaine grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

The boys were out the door first, and as they burst outside, the dogs joined them in their hurried scramble across the yard toward an old oak tree. Colton held back as Libby went next and then Elaine.

“Come and see the letters,” Sam shouted to Libby.

“Letters?” she asked Elaine.

“It’s been a family tradition for generations to carve one’s initials into the tree,” Elaine said. “It’s said that George Washington himself carved his initials in the tree as he was heading west to survey the frontiers of Virginia.”

“Are your initials in the tree?” she asked Elaine.

“They are. My husband and I carved ours together the day we got married.”

“You were married at Woodmont?”

“Right under that tree. It was a small gathering. My grandfather had passed, so it was just my grandmother Olivia and Ted’s parents and siblings. Margaret and her husband were here. So were Colton and Ginger. Neither Ted nor I wanted to make a fuss.”

“What about you, Colton? You on the tree?” Libby asked.

“I’m there somewhere, but I’ve forgotten where my letters are.” He took a long pull from his beer.

She guessed he knew exactly where he had left his mark and that they were attached to initials he did not want to remember right now.

Libby crossed the grass to the tree and ran her hand over the rough bark. There were dozens of letters, some carved deep into the wood and others less legible. Many had dates beside them. ’19, ’41, ’00, ’05.

“Who was the last to carve into the tree?” Libby asked.

“Ginger and Cameron. They carved their initials on Friday night,” Elaine said.

“What a coincidence. I heard they didn’t bury a bottle in the moonshine graveyard,” Libby said.

“Sadly, they did not.” Elaine’s tone was serious, but her eyes danced with humor.

“I warned them, but they did not take heed,” Colton said with a grin.

“Where did that moonshine tradition come from?” Libby asked.

“Rumor has it that it started a couple of hundred years ago. The Carter men have always loved a good sip of moonshine, and I think it was their way of paying homage. My grandfather was known to prescribe it from time to time to expectant fathers while they waited on the birth of their child.”

“Can I put my S on the tree?” Sam asked. “I’m big enough now to hold a knife. Right, Dad?”

“He’s not big enough, Dad,” Jeff said. “He’s not six.”

“Daaaad!” Sam shouted. “Tell him I’m old enough.”

A faint smile tipped the edges of Colton’s lips. “I don’t see why he can’t start working on his S,” he mused.

“Can I make mine deeper?” Jeff asked.

“Sure.” He fished a penknife from his pocket. Jeff rushed to snatch the knife, but Colton held it out of his reach. “Your brother goes first.”

Sam stood a little taller and puffed out his chest. Colton flicked the knife open with a quick flip of his wrist.

“I’m going to hold it too,” he said.

“I can do it by myself,” Sam said.

“My help or nothing,” Colton cautioned. “Your choice, pal.”

“Okay.”

Elaine grinned as she raised her glass to her lips. “He reminds me of Lofton. Always needing to prove herself.”

“How old is your daughter?” Libby asked.

“Twenty-seven. She graduated from the University of Virginia law school last year and is now working for a Washington, DC, law firm. Takes after her father and me. Loves to argue. My grandfather wanted me to be a doctor, and he even set up an internship with me in your father’s office, but I could never stand the sight of blood.”

“So you knew my dad?”

“Our paths crossed for just a few weeks. I remember how gentle he was with the kids, especially the ones that were afraid of needles. He almost had me convinced to make a run for med school, but in the end, my heart just wasn’t in it.”

Libby sipped her wine. “I’d say small world, but Bluestone is super small. Did you know my mother?”

“I never met her. After college I moved away, but my grandmother and Margaret kept me updated on the goings-on in town. I remember when they told me when your parents adopted you.”

It felt a little odd to have someone Libby barely knew be so familiar with her history. “Dad never mentioned that he knew you.”

“I lost total touch with him and didn’t catch up with your dad until last fall. We ran into each other and ended up having lunch. He talked about you a lot. He was very proud of you.”

Libby swallowed a lump of emotion, hoping a smile would keep tears in check.

Just then, Margaret called them all in to dinner, and Libby was grateful to follow the boys inside. Colton refreshed the dogs’ water bowl and set out handfuls of kibble for them.

Dinner turned into a little bit of a blur. Maybe that was the second glass of wine. But Libby listened to the boys tell stories about school, Sam establishing himself as the guy who always needed to upstage his brother. Colton was patient as Sam spoke, but when the boy took a breath, he redirected the conversation back to Libby and her work.

“I’m basically a couples’ photographer,” she said. “Engagements, weddings, anniversaries, you name it.”

“And there’s a broad market for that?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“Yes. In fact, business is booming. Which is a great problem to have.”

“Did you start off wanting to do this work?” Elaine asked.

“No. I wanted to be an artist,” she said, nodding to Elaine. “But it doesn’t pay, and my dad convinced me to go to nursing school for a steady paycheck. I became an oncology nurse.”

“You have children?” Sam asked.

The honest question was so straightforward it did not knock her off balance. “No, I don’t have any children.”

Her tone had Colton clearing his throat as he set down his fork. “Sam likes to ask questions. Did he just step in sensitive territory?” Colton asked.