When Linda Allison swings into the saddle of her trusted palomino, Molly, and ambles out across the rolling hills of her ranch in the Similkameen Valley to bring in calves for branding, you might be forgiven for thinking you were in the presence of an apparition. Her great-grandmother, Susan Allison, came into this valley as a girl. And now she sleeps for eternity in the family cemetery of the old Allison Ranch near Princeton, snuggled in beside her beloved husband beneath the rustling of the...
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