She’d wondered about her own mother. Sometimes she would lie in her bed and think so hard about her mother she would dream about her. They were always short dreams. Ruth would be standing in a large hayfield or a meadow of flowers, and she would see a woman in the distance, backlit by the sun so that she could only see the woman’s dark shape. But she always knew who the woman was, and when the dream ended, she always woke with the same sadness Pete and Reese were feeling.

They were so sad it was making the whole world sad. Ruth didn’t like to see them like this. Especially Pete. She loved him more than anything in the entire world. Even though he was much older than she was, she’d never seen a handsomer or more wonderful boy than him. Not in all her life.

And he was hurting so badly she could practically taste it. She didn’t like to see things hurt. Especially not boys like Pete who had perfect little noses and sweetheart eyes. She touched his hand and he let her. It sent a surge through her. His was a heavy pain that she could feel.

Ruth felt things more strongly than most people. She knew this about herself. Once, she’d found a dead turtle in the highway, and she almost collapsed from anguish. The shell was crushed and its insides were showing. It bothered her so badly she figured she’d take it off the highway and give it a good funeral. She scooped up the turtle with a shovel and buried it beneath a pine tree. She visited the turtle’s grave often and left flowers for it. She must’ve been the only girl in the world who adopted a pet turtle after he was already dead.

Paul finally pulled the truck over. He turned off the engine. Ruth stood in the truck bed to see where they were. She’d been looking so hard at Pete, and his wonderful little nose, she hadn’t even seen where Paul was taking them.

It was a farm, deep in the country. Trees were everywhere. A creek ran in front of an old farmhouse. There were barns, sheds, pens of goats, chickens, hogs, and even a few horses.

Paul said, “C’mon, young’uns,” like he was calling dogs.

“What’re we doing here?” asked Reese.

Paul lifted Reese from the truck and said, “We’re begging for work, sweetie.”

“Are we gonna be hands?” said Ruth.

“God willing,” he said.

Pete and Ruth jumped off the tailgate. They walked toward the farmhouse in the distance. Vern followed behind. They stepped onto the porch of a clapboard house that looked like it had seen better days. The paint was flaking from the sideboards, which were rotting in some places. The porch was crooked and leaning sideways.