Wild Horses (Sadie's Montana #1)(74)

Was she in danger?

She shivered.

To get up and run would only show fear, and she desperately wanted to observe them, if even for a second.

Along with the black stallion, there was a brown mare. She was small and compact with a beautifully arched neck. Her mane and tail had been luxurious at one time but were unkempt now. They were matted with burrs, and the forelock needed a trim.

And then…

Sadie didn’t remember opening her mouth, she just knew it had been open for some time because her tongue felt dry when she closed it again.

Paris!

It was Paris!

It couldn’t be Paris.

The horse was exactly the color of Paris after she had lost her winter coat. Paris was honey-colored then, a rich, amber color that was complemented by the beige of her mane and tail.

This horse was that same color, and it, too, was a mare. She moved behind the black horse as he grazed slowly, clipping the grass with a crunching sound. There was only one thing better than hearing a horse eat grass and that was to hear him eat oats and corn from a wooden feed box. Horses bit deep into the oats, then lifted their nose a bit and chewed. Most of the oats fell out of the side of a horse’s mouth when he did that, but he chewed them later until the feed box was completely clean.

Slowly Sadie got to her feet.

The black horse lifted his head, his ears pricked forward, and he wheeled immediately, lunging back the way he had come. The brown mare looked at Sadie, then ran off with the palomino following.

Sadie stayed rooted to the spot.

Involuntarily her arm reached out toward them.

“Paris!” she whispered.

The black horse disappeared, but Sadie had a feeling the mares’ return to the woods was halfhearted. They hadn’t made an all-out dash for the trees the way the big black had done.

Yes, they ran, but they were curious, too, Sadie thought.

Slowly, with her arm extended and hand reaching toward the mares, she walked through the wildflowers. She was talking, telling them the things she told horses, even if she couldn’t see them through the forest.

“Come, Paris. Come on, you big baby. Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s about time you returned to the fold and started living a decent life after all the mischief you’ve been up to. Come on. Come on. Just let me look at you.”

But she could not coax them out. The horses stayed in the safety of the trees.

“Well, okay, stay away then, Paris. But I’ll be here tomorrow. I’ll bring you some oats and corn and molasses and I’ll leave a salt block. You’ll love that.”

She kept talking to the unseen horses, which may have been silly, but it may not have been either, she reasoned.

Those mares were not terrified. Sadie was certain about that.

Adrenaline surged through her veins as she turned. Yes!

But Dat would never let her come up here alone. Never. Especially if he knew there were any wild horses within a mile of her.

She could tell her parents she was going on a hike to get back in shape. But that wouldn’t work. Her sisters would want to join her, and Leah, she knew, would catch on faster than anyone.

It would have to remain her secret. She’d bring a salt block by herself somehow.

She was running down the hill, her knees bearing the impact which she knew was no good for her newly healed bones.

When she got home, she tried to act as carefree as when she left the house, but she knew her cheeks were flushed. If her eyes showed any of the excitement she felt—which they probably did—she’d be a dead giveaway. So she went to the barn to make plans.

Sadie stood back, surveying the interior of the barn. That Dat. He would never change. He hardly ever swept the forebay. Cobwebs hung from the floor joists above her head, and empty feed bags were strewn beside the wooden feed box. Dusty scooters and bikes and children’s riding toys that should have been discarded a long time ago were all piled in one corner.

Bales of hay lay where they landed when Dat threw them down the hole from the second floor. He never carried the bales of hay over against the wall and stacked them neatly. He just broke them apart and fed the hay to Charlie from the area where they had landed, which meant there was loose hay everywhere. It was embarrassing, the way this barn was always a mess.

Sadie sighed and got to work. At least this would keep her out of the house so she could hide her excitement about the horses and make her plans in secret.

The following evening Sadie was in luck. She could not believe her good fortune. The whole family went to Dan Detweilers for the season’s first cook-out, leaving before Sadie got home from work.

Sadie was ecstatic. It was too perfect.

She immediately changed into her oldest clothes and a pair of sturdy shoes. She grabbed Reuben’s backpack, the biggest one he owned, and hurried out to the barn.

Good! The feed bin was almost full so Dat wouldn’t notice if she took some of it up the mountain. He would just think Charlie had gotten hungry.

There was no extra block of salt, but she remembered to check Nevaeh’s stall just in case.

Nostalgia enveloped her as she remembered that feeling of walking into the stall and being welcomed with Nevaeh’s funny blowing of breath from her nose. It wasn’t loud enough to be a nicker or whinny, just a soft rustling of her nostrils instead.

There was still part of a salt block, and Sadie grabbed it and put it in the bottom of her backpack. Opening a white, plastic Wal-Mart bag, she carefully scooped some of the sticky, pungent horse feed into it. She knotted the bag securely and slipped it into the backpack with the salt. She dashed back to the kitchen for a few apples and stuck them into the pack with the rest of the things.