Chapter 17 - THE PORTRAITOn a cool December afternoon, Avery brought her mother's old portrait down from storage.
They hung it in the ranch office.
Margaret stood in the photograph beneath the old oak tree.
Strong.
Elegant.
Young.
Avery stepped back.
"Perfect."
Clifford stared at the photograph.
For a moment, the years disappeared.
He remembered Margaret laughing.
He remembered her standing beside him when the ranch was nearly bankrupt.
He remembered her telling him:
"Land isn't what we leave our children."
Clifford smiled.
"What is it?"
Her old voice seemed to return.
"Choices."
Avery looked at him.
"What are you thinking?"
"That your mother was right."
Avery smiled.
"I know."
They stood together beneath the portrait.
May you like
Father and daughter.
Two survivors.
