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back the wet strands of hair sticking to her cheeks and forehead, trying to appear unruffled as she stood.
    “ Sorry I scared ya there, ” Reb said, stepping over the fence to stand next to her. “ Got caught in the rain, huh? ”
    “ Uh huh, ” Sage said. He removed his hat and studied the tiny gravestone. Sage was touched by his gesture of respect and felt a smile spread across her face.
    “ Ruth States , ” he read. “ Beloved daughter and sister. Born September 18, 1834, died October 22, 1840 . ” He shook his head. “ Just a little one, huh. ”
    “ Yes, ” Sage said, as she nervously smoothed her drenched skirt. Oh, why had she worn a white shirtwaist? No doubt he could see clean through the light, wet cotton all the way to her corset strings!
    “ How ’ d she die? ” Reb asked.
    Sage felt her fingers begin to fiddle with her collar buttons. “ The story goes that , after losing her husband, Ruth ’ s mother moved out here from Ohio , bringing her five children with her. ” He looked at her and nodded— a gesture she should continue.
    Drawing a deep breath, Sage continued, “ It seems her mother had a sister whose husband was homesteadin ’ out this way. Anyway, Ruthie ’ s mother had to go back to Ohio …something to do with her husband ’ s business, and she left the older children to care for the little ones. Little Ruth came down with typhoid. The oldest boy walked miles and miles to the nearest homestead to get help. The only person he found was a kindly older lady , and she came back with him. She tried her best to help…nursed the litt le girl as well as she could…but Ruth was too sick , and she died. ”
    Reb released a heavy sigh. “ Does she have any family left ’ round here? ” he asked.
    Sage shook her head. “ No. Her mother was so devastated she loaded the rest of the children in a wagon, cursed the day she ’ d left Ohio , and headed back. ” Sage sighed. “ I used to be angry at Ruthie ’ s mother for leavin ’ her and goin ’ back to Ohio . Still, I can maybe imagine how…when the mother returned, seein ’ the little grave on this lonely hill…her little six-year - old girl…how it just caused her to die inside and want to run back to the things, the places , and people familiar to her. Ruthie ’s in h eaven, after all. It ’ s just her earthly self restin ’ here. ”
    Reb ’ s eyes narrowed as he looked at Sage. “ Yet…ya tend this grave regular. I can tell just by lookin ’ ya spend a lot of time out here with little Ruth. ”
    Sage was uncomfortable under his gaze. What a sight she must be! Still, she answered, “ Well, it ’ s a pretty, peaceful little spot , and maybe Ruthie ’ s spirit comes along once in a while to see if anyone remembers she was here once. My guess is none of her brothers and sisters have ever been out this way , and I just want to make sure…to make sure… ”
    “ That she don ’ t get lonely, ” Reb finished for her.
    Sage smiled. “ Yes, ” she admitted, mesmerized by his insight and understanding of her feelings.
    Reb looked around the gravesite. He seemed to note every flower and plant. Reaching down to a space near his foot, he broke a leaf off a small plant.
    “ Did you plant this? ” he asked, folding the leaf and putting it to his nose.
    Sage nodded, delighted that he pinched the leaf and inhaled its fragrance in the same manner she always did. “ To remind her of me…just in case she ever really does stop by, ” she answered. Reb smiled and inhaled the scent of the sage leaf again.
    “ Nothin ’ like a bit of sage to improve the flavor of any pan of gravy, ” he chuckled.
    Sage blushed. “ Nothin ’ like it, ” she agreed, smiling. Reb tucked the sage leaf into his shirt pocket. He glanced at the gravestone for a moment before stepping over the fence and replacing his hat.
    “ Well, ” he sighed , looking up at the sky for a moment. “ I was out checkin ’ the fence, and since Aunt Eugenia