PROLOGUE
PROLOGUEWith a heavy heart, Layken Martin clutched a spray of purple asters and wild bergamot that grew along the banks of a Missouri creek. Blinking back tears, he removed his Army hat and uniform jacket and wiped the sweat from his brow. He kneeled beside two simple gravestones in Sinking Creek Cemetery, marking the life and times of his parents, Jacob and Nancy Martin. It had come as no shock that Jacob had only lived a few short months following Nancy’s death.
They’d lived simple lives with nothing much to show for their time on earth except a two-hundred-acre farm and one son.
He placed the flowers between the two headstones. His quiet voice trembled. “Mom, Dad, I promise you I will do my best to carry our legacy forward. No matter what it takes.”
Never had Layken felt so
