Beth shifted in her sleeping bag. Glanced around.
Her friends, she sensed, were already off in dream land. The companionable camp fire they'd built (surprisingly well, after all these years) had finally collapsed to just a few embers, safe in a large circle of stones.
She settled back and stared up. The night sky was beyond black, a sugar bowl spilled across it. Beth had never seen so many stars.
Ed would have loved this. I wish he were here. It had been her common prayer for the past six years. At 66, he'd died too young. She'd adjusted. And there was still one thing she looked forward to that they would do together: their legacy, the causes they'd put in their will.