It's low, but the muggy air catches his words and holds them, just long enough for Samuel and John both to sneak a glance at the boy from the corner of their eyes.

Neither say a word.

Samuel nods after a time, a small smile on his face. "She always did have eyes turned for the future. Saw flowers and fruit trees, when there was nothin' but weeds and dust."

And now, as they ride on through, thriving fields of corn and wheat and barley, pecan trees and apple, rabbit holes and bird's nests and all manner of life flourishing throughout every acre of the property. Some is fertile, tilled and worked with blood and sweat to get that way. Some is wild and ragged. But everything sings with a purely southern grace.

"She woulda loved to see this."