financially destitute. As a state, we have so many resources, so much to offer, but we also have the largest welfare rolls, the most claim on meager resources, the largest share of illegal immigrants. We could do better, but maybe we simply can’t turn the direction of the federal government.”
“Do I hear the beginning of a shift in your thoughts about secession? A positive look at becoming separate?”
Dan hesitated, continuing to look over the western slopes. “I don’t know yet, Nicole. Some of our Founding Fathers came reluctantly to their rebellious position. They were loyalists initially. I need to be more inquisitive, more open. California
“And you want to do something about that, right?” Nicole said, softly pressing the issue.
“Only if you’d share it with me, Nicole. That’s the only way it would matter. John Adams could not have accomplished what he did without Abigail. And we helped to build it together, didn’t we? Just like my ancestors. We rightfully earned our place in this valley.”
“I suppose we did,” she responded, raising her eyes across the valley to the far west mountainside where their lives had been in jeopardy. “I suppose we did.”
“Well, then,” Dan said, bracing her shoulders straight so he could face her head on. “Will you help me start one more generation of voices-voices to keep this valley alive?”
Nicole looked slowly around the valley and then returned her gaze to Dan, who stood patiently waiting for her to respond.
“Mr. Rawlings, have I ever told you the story of my first American ancestor, James Bentley, and his trip from London to the colonies?” She smiled.
Dan looked at her for a moment, his smile broadening as her response took root in his heart, her family stories about to be mingled with his ancestors’ stories, her answer to his question couched in family tradition.
“No, you haven’t,” he said, “but I think I’m due.”
Her words came slowly at first as she described her own heritage, anticipating in the telling how these two streams from separate sources would be joined together.
Dan only half heard the words, lost again in the vision of the old man in the orchard with his eyes lifted toward the couple on the hill, smiling and waving at the two of them. They sat there together on the hillside, overlooking the expanse of Rumsey Valley as the sun dropped beneath the western ridge. Stretched before them was a destiny-an old valley in a new state-a home forged in courage by the voices that yet reverberated through the canyons and in their hearts.
