Jim said, his face all lit up. “Up on that hill, another castle.” Marilyn looked where Jim pointed with his eyes. It was splendid. Yet another medieval castle fortress on an Italian hillside, surrounded by a small village. They had seen several since their tour bus had left Rome an hour ago. This was day three of their journey. She was so excited; they were on their way to Florence now. Jim had insisted she sit by the large picture window, but so far he’d spent the entire time leaning across her lap, his head a few inches from hers. She didn’t mind, and she perfectly understood why. There was so much to see around every curve, beyond every hill. The photos in the travel magazines didn’t come close to capturing the visions outside her window. She’d already spied a dozen little places she wished the bus would stop so they could take some pictures. “I wonder if that’s one of those little towns Dr. Franklin was talking about,”
