Wild Horses (Sadie's Montana #1)(59)

What had happened between these two? It was amazing.

“I’m feeling much better. Dorothy fixed a cup of gingerroot tea for me and some dry toast.”

He smiled down at her, and she held his gaze, returning his smile. They didn’t notice Sadie at all, these two middle-aged people suddenly so happy in each other’s presence.

Richard Caldwell turned, keeping his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“We were discussing what happened the night of Sadie’s accident. On the news last evening, they talked about the band of wild horses. More and more ranchers are seeing them.”

Barbara nodded, listening intently, watching Richard Caldwell’s face.

Sadie got up, picked up the dust cloth, and was ready to finish her work when Richard Caldwell told her to sit down again.

Sadie sat.

“Your horse—the one you had to put down. Do you think there’s a possibility of him becoming frightened by this same band of horses? Is your pasture very big? Is it isolated?” Richard Caldwell was very serious, his voice only a little less than booming.

What? Oh, it couldn’t be. Poor Nevaeh. Was he terrified by that huge, black stallion? Was that why he tried to leap the fence? Had he felt threatened?

It was too much for Sadie to comprehend. Pity for her beloved horse welled up inside her until it became an object so painful, she felt physically sick.

What had that poor horse encountered in his life? First alone, sick, and starving. How had that all come about? Then his life ended much too soon by some foolhardy act of his own?

All these thoughts swirled in Sadie’s mind until she remembered that Richard Caldwell was waiting for an answer.

“Uh, yes. Yes, our pasture is at least 20, maybe 30, acres. And, yes, it is very isolated. The lower part anyway.”

Richard Caldwell nodded.

“But,” Sadie continued, “The biggest mystery about Nevaeh’s death is why he was in that snowy pasture to begin with. Who left him out? Or how did he get out of his stall? We had visitors that day—on Christmas Day—and my uncles put their horses in Nevaeh’s stall without knowing he belonged there. Dat … I mean, my father never lets him out in winter.”

She stopped, wringing her hands on the gray fabric of her dress. Richard Caldwell held up his hand and said he didn’t mean to upset her. She assured him she was fine. It was just hard sometimes to accept the fact that Nevaeh had to die in such a mysterious manner.

As she went about her work, Sadie kept thinking of a terrified Nevaeh all alone in the snow, and it was more than her heart could stand. She had to put that thought behind her and focus on other things, but that just led her into deeper, murkier water where she floundered helplessly.

She forgot the Tilex bathroom cleaner, lost the furniture polish, and couldn’t find the crevice attachment for the sweeper. She was tired, her leg hurt, and it was high time to go to the kitchen and chop vegetables for Dorothy.

Then there was Mark.

If she really wanted to get off track and get all mixed up mentally, emotionally, and in her heart, or whichever term was used to describe feeling in your heart… See? She couldn’t even think straight.

She was happy about one thing. He had held her in his arms. Twice. Well, the time at the mall had been a very necessary thing, of course. But would he really have had to carry her that short distance? It brought the color to her cheeks to think how his wool coat felt against her face. Mam would have a fit. Well, what Mam didn’t know didn’t hurt her.

Oh, my! Now she was a real rebel.

Could it be God’s will for her life to love someone as good-looking as Mark? Could good looks—no, not just good looks—could downright the most handsome man she had ever seen fall into the same category as God’s will?

If it was as depressing as Mam put it, every beautiful girl would be paired off with some homely little person. This was God’s will, and the only form of true love, according to Mam. But that little homely man who got the good-looking wife didn’t have to give up his own will at all. How could you figure that one out?

Truthfully, more than anything else, Sadie wanted God’s guidance in finding the companion he wanted her to have. Ezra would have been the perfect one, according to Mam and Dat. But wasn’t she always taught to believe death, too, was the will of our Lord? He giveth and he taketh away, and that was that. So, according to God’s will, Ezra wasn’t meant to be her husband.

Mark was so handsome, but he was hard to explain. His past, for one thing.

Sadie stopped, sniffed, held the bottle in her hand up to her face, and was horrified to discover she was dusting with the bathroom cleaner! Quickly, she hurried to the bathroom, procured a clean cloth, and washed the top of the dresser she was supposed to have been dusting with Pledge. Her heart pounding, she checked to see the results.

Whew! Looked all right. Hurriedly she sprayed a liberal amount of furniture polish onto the dresser and rubbed furiously with the cloth.

This had to stop.

Perhaps her brain had been injured in the accident and she couldn’t think normally. No. More than likely she was falling in love, if there was such a thing.

Dusting finished, she hurried back to the kitchen, where a cloud of steam enveloped her. Dorothy was in a fine tizzy.

“Now what do y’ know? Here comes Miss High-and-Mighty, telling me she’s having her family tonight for a ‘pahty.’”