Sister Ruth knew how to preserve a body and did so before hiding Jane in the back of the cabin. It would have been terrible if her brother were to discover her before it could be explained to him.
Owen's fever broke the following day, and Ruth praised God the Kirkpatricks wouldn't lose both their children. Nonetheless, telling the Kirkpatricks their daughter was gone would be one of the hardest things she'd ever done.
"Where's Jane?" was the first question Owen asked.
"Resting," she said, trying not to choke up and worry him. She knew his parents would want to be the ones to explain her death to him.
Mr. and Mrs. Kirkpatricks' fevers broke the day after Owen's had only hours apart and though she hated to tell them when they'd just came to, there was never going to be a perfect time.
"Jane didn't make it," her voice shaking from restrained emotion. "She's safe in the arms of Jesus now."
Mrs. Kirkpatrick broke out into uncontrollable sobs and her husband wrapped his arms around her and tried hard to be strong for her and not cry himself.
He looked up at Ruth. "Thank you for doing everything you could. We'll never be able to repay you."
She had wondered if they would blame her for it, but they were thankful instead. "I'm sorry there wasn't more I could do."
Owen didn't fully grasp that his sister wasn't coming back by his look of confusion, but he knew something was wrong. He climbed into his parents bed. "It's going to be okay, Ma."
Ruth went outside, taking only her shawl, to give them time to grieve in private. Kid had been delayed in coming due to a March snowstorm, probably the last of the season or close to it. The aftermath had been big enough to delay his coming yet another day, so she wasn't surprised to see him arrive earlier than his normal time.
"Why are you standing out here in the cold?" Kid asked as he rode up.
Her tears flowed freely. "The little girl, Jane, died."
"Oh, honey," he said, getting down from Horse to comfort her.
She held out a hand to stop him from coming nearer. "I think we're probably safe, but I want to give it another day to be sure."
It made him angry with the situation, not with her, and he took his hat off to run his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Is there anything I can do?"
"I think they'll probably want to have the funeral tomorrow, being they ain't got any kin in the area. I'll check and see what their plans are."
Kid waited until she returned, which didn't take long. "Tomorrow. They want to bury her on the hilltop out back. Can you get the preacher to say something at the service and my brothers to help dig? Mr. Kirkpatrick won't be up to such a strenuous task so soon after his fever."
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Kid got there first. He didn't wait for her permission to draw her into his arms and kiss her. "You don't know how happy I am you get to come home today. Your parents are, too. They've been worrying themselves sick."
"I know. I've missed you," she said, rubbing an end piece of his coal black hair between her fingers while her arms were wrapped around his neck.
Robert and Clyde arrived a littler after Kid, and between the three men taking turns, they had a grave dug in about two hours.
The preacher was the last one to get there just a little before noon. The family came out. The parents each had a McKenzie man supporting their standing and walking, and Kid carried Owen in his arms.
Ruth felt even sadder, looking at the grieving parents. She felt their pain, having buried a child herself. And because she knew that pain, she also knew nothing she could say could erase their present grief, only God and time. She promised herself she would check in on them periodically to see if there was anything they needed.
The preacher said words that had probably been said at gravesides since they had first been penned on a scroll, but Ruth drew comfort hearing the God-breathed words each time they were spoken. She hoped the family did, too.
Ruth ended the service with a song not terribly old, but it had words that were extremely poignant.
"Then, with my waking thoughts bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be nearer, my God, to Thee."
Kid had slipped a hand in hers and joined her in the song, the only other attendee who knew the hymn's lyrics.
"Or, if on joyful wing cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, upward I'll fly,
Still all my song shall be, nearer, my God, to Thee."
Owen got down from Kid's arms to go stand between his parents as the song had brought them both to tears.
"There in my Father's home, safe and at rest,
There in my Savior's love, perfectly blest;
Age after age to be nearer, my God, to Thee."
The preacher offered up one last prayer over the proceeding, and then the service ended.
Kid had his arm around her, and she leaned into him as suddenly the unlevel ground felt a lot more unlevel.
"Ruth, are you alright?" She could hear the note of panic in his voice.
She wanted to answer yes, but it was like he was talking at the end of a long tunnel. Her vision suddenly turned white like another snowstorm had descended. She finally admitted to herself that she had caught typhoid as she felt Kid's hold tighten, and she slipped into unconsciousness.
