Her camera project.
Her interest in photography.
And the fact that she wanted to document the old railroad buildings before they disappeared.
Nora listened.
"Why would they disappear?"
Lucy shrugged.
"There's talk about redevelopment."
Daniel looked up.
"Nothing's been decided."
"That's what the town council says."
Lucy rolled her eyes.
"But somebody's buying land near the old depot."
Nora's expression changed so slightly that neither father nor daughter noticed.
She asked carefully, "What kind of redevelopment?"
"Warehouses, maybe. Some new stores."
Lucy frowned.
"I like the old buildings."
Nora looked toward the distant railroad tracks.
Something uneasy moved through her.
She knew that several of her company's regional subsidiaries had been evaluating industrial property in smaller towns.
She did not know Bellweather was among the active acquisition areas.
At least, not until now.
She made a mental note to ask.
Then turned back toward Lucy.
"What would you like them to do with the buildings?"
The girl brightened.
"A community workshop."
Daniel looked amused.
"Here we go."
Lucy ignored him.
"Somewhere kids can learn photography, woodworking, and mechanics. Not everybody can afford special classes."
Nora studied her.
"That sounds useful."
Lucy nodded enthusiastically.
"And maybe a little museum about the railroad."
Daniel smiled.
"Your grandfather Arthur would've liked that."
Lucy looked toward him.
"I know."
Nora watched them.
The tenderness between father and daughter moved her more than she expected.
She had spent decades attending events where wealthy families posed for photographs in coordinated outfits and spoke publicly about generosity.
But here, in a garage filled with old tools and grease stains, she saw something more intimate.
A father listening to his daughter's ideas as though they mattered.
The same quality Daniel had shown her on the bridge.
A willingness to take another person's hopes seriously.
She looked toward Lucy.
"Would you mind showing me your photographs sometime?"
The girl's face brightened.
"Really?"
"Really."
Lucy smiled.
Then hurried toward her backpack.
Daniel glanced at Nora.
"Careful. She has approximately seven hundred."
Nora laughed.
"I've got time."
And to her own surprise, she meant it.
The photographs were better than Nora expected.
Lucy had taken pictures of old brick walls, rusted railway signs, abandoned machinery, lake reflections, and the wooden bridge at the edge of town.
When the bridge appeared on the camera screen, Nora went completely still.
The image showed the weathered boards, the rusted railing, and the creek winding beneath.
The old bench was gone.
But the bridge remained.
Lucy noticed her reaction.
"Do you know it?"
Nora swallowed.
"I remember seeing it when I was young."
Daniel looked up.
"You're from Bellweather?"
She hesitated.
"My family lived here when I was a child."
Daniel set down his wrench.
"Really?"
Nora nodded.
"For a while."
He studied her.
"Small town. What's your last name?"