“I’m sorely tempted, but you’re right, Hannah.” He sipped the coffee. “She’s not to blame. Let’s see what happens after the baby comes. But Zachary—by the way, he wants to be called Zack, with a k not an h—had better stay out of my way.”

“Come, let’s not dwell on Zachary. Let’s take a walk up the hill and see what Laura and Molly have added to the Covington Homesteads. Those girls really took you at your word, that they’d better get all the furnishings—everything—authentic, down to the last needle.” She patted his hand, then slipped her arm through his and led him from the office out into the lovely spring day.

Two Covington brothers and their families had been the first to settle in this cove. They had wandered in with their covered wagons and exhausted, pregnant wives and stayed. The re-creation of their original homesteads represented a slice of history. Carefully researched, and constructed from the oldest, most weathered lumber available, the cabins and outbuildings were now open to the public, though they hadn’t attracted a rush of visitors.

Working closely with school boards and chambers of commerce, Laura and Molly were attempting to remedy that by arranging for bus trips from schools in Madison, Yancey, and Buncombe Counties. Once the road was paved from Cove Road up the hill to the homesteads, busloads of retirees and other visitors would surely come.

Max slowed his stride to Hannah’s amble, and they crossed the meadow and meandered up a path to the first cabin, where they sat on the wood bench to the side of the entrance.

“Look at all you’ve accomplished here,” Hannah said. “You can be very proud.”

“So how come people aren’t rushing to see it? I would have thought the locals would want to see how their ancestors lived.”

“It’ll take time, Max. Maybe locals won’t be our primary visitors. Maybe they don’t want to see how hard life was for their great-great-grandparents. And they aren’t accustomed to visiting historic sites.”

“But the younger generation should know what it was like for those who came before them.”

“And they will, through the schools. They’ll come in buses. It’s going to be all right. Laura has a reporter coming from Living History magazine and they’re working on getting Historical Journal to do a story. Then you’ll be complaining about traffic on Cove Road. You’ll see.”