“That is more than enough to cover the back taxes and the estate’s debts,” I said.

“The court will have to release the funds to the estate once the fraud case is resolved,” Lydia said.

“But that could take months,” Lydia added.

“We can wait,” I said.

Over the next few weeks, the winter began to fade.

The mud along the James River dried into hard clay.

The daily visits from lawyers and investigators slowly decreased.

Aunt Caroline spent her days in the garden, planting early spring bulbs.

The color had returned to her face.

One morning in late March, I received a letter from the county historic commission.

They wanted to discuss the 1782 charter.

I met them at the county library, in a small room lined with local history books.

Three representatives from the local historical society were waiting for me.

With them was a woman named Sarah, whose family had lived in the valley for generations.

“We want to help you protect the ridge,” Sarah said.

“Our ancestors are buried up there too,” Sarah said.