On our drive back to Athens, I replay parts of Alma’s service in my mind.

I smile as I remember Hamilton slipping his hand into mine as a silent symbol of support. It gave me strength and hope. As warmth encompassed me, I felt as though Alma was happy to see us together.

“I had a thought last night.” Hamilton breaks into our quiet ride. “We need to find a farmer to rent your parents’ land, someone we trust to make the improvements needed.”

His eyes leave ...