Unsettled Graves: A Crossroads of Kings Mill Novel (The Crossroads of Kings Mill Book 3)
Page 16
He handed out copies of photos he had procured from the Evansworth family and Tonya joined in with the gasps of excitement and awe. The picture of the latest grandson was that of a red-headed, freckle faced boy…an identical replica of their Joshua.
After the connection was made and tears were shed knowing their Joshua hadn’t died in vain either, Chris cleared his throat.
“Now what was it that you had to ask this special person?” He groused, teasingly.
“Yes, well…I was getting to that. I have been asked to present the historical commentary at Jared Evansworth honor and to be the Grand Marshall in honor of him for their local parade at their Christmas Parade in South Carolina. I was wanting to know, Tonya, would you do me the honors of being my guest and sitting beside me as we both honor Jared and Joshua?”
Still crying, joyfully from the news of the pictures, Tonya jumped up and hugged him. “I will!”
Cheers and laughter went up even though her father’s cheers were heard the most. She couldn’t think of a better Christmas gift to share with Camden.
Kenneth-James stepped forward. “Speaking of honors…are you about ready to do your honors, Tonya?”
She nodded, afraid she would burst at the seams with emotion. Could life be any better? Six months ago, she hadn’t been so sure.
#
The tavern was a mass of people all waiting to head down the street. James Addison had told his final story at his annual festival and had announced the special commencement of the Historical Marker at the intersection of Addison and Main.
Kenneth adorned in his James Addison attire took the arm of Tonya Mead in one hand and an old lamplighters light in the other. A good hundred or so town folks and friends joined them on their short trek.
A light drifting of snow had started to fall making the evening even more festive. Pitch Pots hung from store front street posts, lighting their way. So much like Williamsburg but this was Kings Mill…two of her favorite towns. So full of history and life.
They arrived at the northeast corner of Addison and Main where the Director of Kings Mill Historical Society and Professor Moreland of William and Mary presided to help Tonya uncover the marker she’d fought so hard for.
“Ladies and Good Gents,” James Addison spoke up, his fine Kings English lighting the night’s mood. “It is with great pride and admiration that I present to you the young woman who has added another chapter to Kings Mill’s fascinating history. Her research and stories of the proud Susquahannan people have given us a new appreciation of our past and those who’ve made Kings Mill what it is. So without further ado, I give you, Miss Tonya Mead.”
Nervously, Tonya stepped forward where a microphone had been set up. She’d narrowed her paper down to cover the major topics, telling of the ‘People of the Muddy Water’, their struggles, their history…everything they’d shared with her in spirit, she could now tell to the world.
A great applause went up at the end of her speech as April stood next to her to reveal the bronze plaque to the town of Kings Mill. More applause echoed around her but she only ran her hand over the embossed markings she’d brought to life. She looked out into the crowds of people clogging the intersection…but she didn’t see them. Instead she saw her people…The Susquahanna.
Stepping forward, away from the crowd she walked to them and stood on the cobblestone patch as one by one the spirits of her people disappeared into her light.
Acknowledgements
There are many people whom I need to thank in helping me get where I’m going with my writing. Without them there would be some hard times.
To my mother, Linda for always encouraging me in my love of reading and writing and without her, I wouldn’t be here. My sister, Lissa for reading those silly drafts back in the day…you remember the ones. The Glover’s for being the best in-laws ever. Cat and Jim, you’ve welcomed me into your family twenty-plus years ago with much love and shared in my dream of writing. Kasie and Samantha for being a fantastic sister-in-law and niece and hanging out with me at various book signings. To Drake—just because you are you and the best nephew ever.
To my beta readers, Stephanie and Debbie who are not only the best beta readers but fantastic ladies. To my good friend, Maria Peck and her lovely store, Tiara Day (my happy, sparkly place) for hosting three or four book signings for me so far over the years. To the wonderful people at Curious Iguana book store in downtown Frederick, Maryland who keep my print books on hand.
To Baby Bear, Gladys (Nerd Girl) for being a terrific promotional assistant and friend. To Wendy Ely for taking this editing job on for me. Thanks so much. To Jenji, my personal cover artist…you did it again! Love it!
To my good friends at Dead of Night Paranormal Investigations…I hope we have many more encounters. My friends at Maryland Romance Writers, Washington Romance Writers, RomVets and HallowRead…I couldn’t ask for better ‘co-workers’.
To the rest of my friends, family and the readers out there who’ve picked up one of my books, either print or eBook and have enjoyed it, thank you.
But especially to my immediate family who has put up with the crazy deadlines, in between times and constantly on the computer, Jen and Rah, you are the best daughters ever.
And to my husband of twenty-seven years, thank you for my Friday night writing sessions. *grin* I love you.
About Loni Lynne
Born in north-central Michigan, Loni Lynne still loves the quiet woods, lakes and rivers in Otsego County and the Victorian era bay side houses of Little Traverse Bay. But after decades of moving around the country as a child and twenty-plus years of marriage to her personal hero, she calls western Maryland her home.
Serving in the United States Navy didn’t prepare her for the hardest job ever, being a stay at home mom, to her two wonderful daughters. After years of volunteering as a scout leader, PTA officer, and various other volunteer positions, all while still writing snippets of story ideas, her husband decided it was time for her to put her heart to finishing a story. He gave her a laptop, portable hard drive and his blessings to have a finished manuscript, ready to be sent out to the masses in one year.
He created a writing monster.
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