When Johanna stepped out onto the long gallery of the front porch, the screen door slapped loudly behind her. Walking to the southern end of the porch, she peeked around the corner before settling into a rocker closest to the door. She figured she had at least another hour or so before Jonathan returned. Jonathan had taken off into the woods right after breakfast with a few friends from school. He had talked about the fishing excursion all week long, and Johanna was grateful when the last day of school and the weekend finally arrived.

    She smiled as she thought of her husband’s return later that afternoon as well. Jason had gone to New York to meet with his editor and finalize the manuscript for his new novel. Though he had only been gone two days, already, she missed him terribly. It still amazed her that they had been married for almost thirteen years, and Jonathan would soon be twelve. She was continually awed by the Lord’s continual acts of kindness and mercy. Only a very loving Heavenly Father could have brought them together. She often chuckled when she thought of how the Lord arranged for the plantation to remain a part of the Hall family legacy and was now a part of the Beasley legacy too. She smiled again as she looked over the railing of the porch at the vastness of the land that would one day become she and Jason’s legacy to their son. And it’s all because of Granny and Mrs. Beasley.

    There were still moments she found it hard to believe that Granny and Mrs. Beasley were gone. She looked down as she smoothed her hand idly over the old journal in her lap. It was thirteen years to the day Jason gave it to her. When he gave her the journal, she put it away in the attic, along with William Meyers’ journal and ledger, not wanting to dwell on the past at the time. She and Jason’s future together had shone brightly ahead, and there were so many plans to attend to — the wedding, the move to the Hall plantation, the opening of her new law office, and then family celebrations. Before she knew it, Jonathan was on the way. Over the years, she had forgotten about the journal. If she hadn’t come across it during her spring-cleaning that very morning, the old journal would still be locked away in the old chest in the attic. Now, as she rubbed her hand across the aged and cracked leather, she knew the time had come. Taking a deep breath, she opened the book to the first entry and began to read.