Wild Horses (Sadie's Montana #1)(45)
Anna was mixing Nesquik into scalding hot milk, adding a teaspoon of sugar and a handful of miniature marshmallows. She stirred, sipped, and lifted her shoulders, a smile of pleasure lighting her young face.
“Taste this, Rebekah!”
“Is it good?”
“It’s so good I’m going to make a cup for each of you after mine is all gone,” she said, grinning cheekily.
“Anna, what can we get Reuben for Christmas?” Sadie asked, toying with the crust of her toast.
“A puppy.”
“We can’t. Mam and Dat will never let us get another dog.”
“He wants a puppy.”
Sadie wrote “puppy” on the list, dutifully.
“What else?”
“A football and a new baseball bat.”
Sadie bent her head and wrote it down.
Leah helped, and with Rebekah’s common sense, they had a list that was actually attainable. After checking the money they could use, which was, in fact, a decent amount, the idea of Christmas settled over them like a warm, fuzzy blanket, comforting and joyous, the way Christmas had always been.
“Hot chocolate’s ready!” Anna called.
“You better let up on the hot chocolate-making, Anna. We’re going shopping at the mall!”
Anna squealed and jumped up and down, rattling the cups on the counter.
“The mall? The real mall?”
“Yes! Let’s all wear the same color… Something Christmasy!”
“We have to push Gramma Sadie on her wheelchair!”
“Let’s rent a wagon—make her sit on the wagon!”
“Let’s do!”
Mam watched the girls’ joy, then turned her head, sighing. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt that way.
Chapter 13
REBEKAH STOMPED IN FROM the phone shanty after calling a driver, her eyes sparkling. Leah washed dishes and Sadie watched. She longed to go to the barn to see Nevaeh and talk to him, but she knew it was best to remain in the house. The upcoming trip to the mall would be about all she could handle.
There was a general hubbub of activity as each one returned upstairs to shower, dress, and comb her hair. The ironing board was set up in front of the gas stove, a sad iron heating on the round, blue flame. Last minute ironing of coverings was always a necessary part of the routine.
After she was ready, Sadie sat on her chair and watched her mother. She was lying on the recliner, hair uncombed, no covering, her face turned to the wall. Mam’s breathing was even and regular—she was so relaxed, she seemed to be asleep. Sadie decided to try again, just one more time.
“Mam?”
“Hmmm?”
“You sure you don’t want to come with us? You know how much you enjoy Christmas shopping.”
“We don’t have any money.”
“Now, Mam, you know that’s not true.”
Mam sat up very suddenly, her face a mask of anger and despair.
“It is true. Can you even imagine how much your hospital bill was? And there you go, traipsing off to the mall to spend money on Christmas gifts that should be used to pay that bill. And then there’s that useless horse standing idle in the barn, eating up our hay and feed—but no, you don’t think about things like that. You’re all wrapped up in yourself and your own broken foot, and everyone pities you because poor Ezra died.”
Sadie was stunned, speechless. Never had she heard her mother speak with such anger.
“Mam, won’t you please see a doctor? You are not well. You would never have spoken like this before. We’ll even put off the shopping trip to take you.”
But Mam had turned her face to the wall and would not respond no matter how Sadie pleaded. It was like rolling a large rock uphill. You couldn’t do it. You budged it an inch, and it always rolled back.
Mam had become so much worse since the accident. Her rapid decline was especially evident to Sadie, who spent most of her time in the house with Mam. She no longer did her small duties, like washing the dishes, dusting, even reading her Bible in the morning. The largest part of her days was spent lying on the recliner, her face turned to the wall.
Even her thought patterns had changed. She became obsessed with one subject at a time. The amount of money they owed the hospital weighed heavily on her, as did the cost of feeding Nevaeh. She seemed to resent the black and white horse, of this Sadie was quite certain.
She sighed and looked out across the snowy landscape as the other girls came rushing down the stairs.
Clattering! Sadie thought. What a bunch of noisemakers!
“Driver’s here! He’s coming up the lane!” Anna yelled.
“Where’s my coat?”
“Did someone see my big leather purse with the two handles?”
“I can hardly keep track of my own purse in this house, let alone yours,” Sadie said laughing.
“’Bye, Mam!”
“’Bye!”
And they were out the door, Sadie hobbling along on her crutches, the girls helping her into the 15-passenger van.
Most people who drove the Amish owned a large van so a group of them could travel together. They divided the cost among themselves, which made for cheaper fare, even if they needed to exercise patience while making stops for the other passengers. The cost of traveling was roughly a dollar per mile, so they usually planned to go to town together.