He drew the coiled spare from his vest. "Sign says I came prepared."
A few people laughed—those who had heard the story, those who were hearing it now in the shape of the gesture. Ruth took the string. Walt helped wind the peg, fingers steady, the old habit become a new ritual. Around them the barn waited, warm and patient.
"She'd want you dancing," Ruth said softly, for him alone. "Not just tuning."
"Haven't stopped dancing since you taught the left foot," Walt said. "But I wouldn't mind a refresher."
She set the fiddle down on a hay bale once the new string held true. Held out her hand. "Then you're not overdue anymore. You're exactly on time."