Lockhart, TexasC
han Davis sat on the screened back porch of her new homestead, sipping what the locals called sweet tea and staring out over the expanse of her lawn covered with a colorful profusion of Blue Bonnets and Indian Paintbrushes. The movers were gone and all the possessions she and Shake decided to carry from Virginia were scattered throughout the rooms of the solid old house built back in 1915. When Shake arrived in a couple of hours, they would do the detailed arranging and storing. At this point, she was just drifting, trying to assimilate the major changes in her life and absorbing the abiding charm of this new place and property.
She wandered into the kitchen, looking down to admire the ancient oak boards of the flooring throughout the two-story structure. A Chicana fine
