Wild Horses (Sadie's Montana #1)(78)

“Is it? Let me see.”

Sadie turned it over in her hand but could certainly not distinguish any outstanding features that made it come close to looking even vaguely like an arrowhead. But she knew that to stay on good terms with Reuben, she would have to pronounce it one.

“Yup, Reuben, I think it was an arrowhead at one time.”

“Do you?”

His troubles forgotten, especially the length of the walk home, he became wildly enthusiastic about looking for arrowheads.

“Yeah, I’ll go with you this afternoon. But you can watch for horses, and I’ll look for more of these.”

He pocketed the very ordinary stone, his future vastly improved. Sadie cringed, despairing of her ability to break the news that he would have to lie quietly in the tall grass and wildflowers to watch for the horses.

“Don’t you want to see the horses?” she began, tongue in cheek.

“Aah, I guess.”

“Course you do. So we’ll have to sit quietly. Sort of hide.”

“I ain’t walking all the way up there to sit there all that time. If I want to see a horse, I can go out to the barn and look at Charlie.”

Sadie ground her teeth in frustration.

“Reuben! You are just like Dat!”

“Well.”

Sadie realized her luck was running out. Self-righteous little man! Oh, he made her so angry.

“Okay, Reuben, I’ll make a deal. Every time you go with me, and at least act as if you want to go, I’ll give you five dollars.”

“Five whole bucks?”

Even his hat came up off his ears at the mention of money. He clamped it back down then, lifted his shoulders, and started planning what he would do with such untold wealth.

“I need a scope for my pellet gun. How many times is this gonna take until you catch her?” he asked, watching her face with calculating eyes.

“Who knows? She may never come back. But if I don’t try, I’ll never be able to forgive myself,” she said, her voice becoming thick with emotion.

Reuben looked at Sadie sideways and thought she was, indeed, the queerest duck he had ever met.

And so they developed a pattern. Reuben filled the backpack and shouldered it until they were out of sight. Their parents thought they were hiking to get Sadie back into better health, especially to strengthen the muscles in her legs. They thought Reuben tagged along to look for arrowheads, explaining the backpack.

After two days of the feed disappearing and no sign of horses, Reuben demanded his $10. Sadie was in despair and, on top of that, had to cope with a rash that appeared on the calves of her legs. It was red, ugly, and so itchy she thought she would go crazy trying not to scratch.

Reuben said it was a sign from God that they shouldn’t be up there against their parent’s wishes, and Sadie asked him when he became so worried about being good. He told her if she didn’t watch it, he wouldn’t go with her anymore. Sadie scratched the rash on her legs, fought tears of sudden anger, and said, “Good, I’ll go all by myself then. Stay home.”

But he did go the next Friday afternoon, albeit reluctantly. It was achingly beautiful, one of those early summer days when everything seems tinged with a golden glow. Even the laundry on the line seemed whiter and the grass a vivid shade of lime green. Wildflowers grew in so much profusion, it seemed a bit surreal to be surrounded by so many different colors bobbing and waving around.

They walked and walked, then climbed up the ridge as usual. Reuben flopped into the grass, rolled on his back, and flung an arm across his eyes.

Sadie took the backpack, unzipped it, and heard them before she had a chance to scatter the oats.

She froze, her breath ragged from the climb.

There! A dark shadow. Another.

“Sadie!” Reuben called.

“Shhh!” she hissed.

He sat up, blinked.

She lifted a finger to her lips and drew her eyebrows down. It was then that she saw the raw fear in Reuben’s eyes. He was afraid! Why, of course. That was why he was so reluctant to accompany her on her trips up here. Reuben had always been frightened of horses when he was small, and still was, only he tried not to let anyone know. All other Amish boys liked horses, drove them at a young age, and never showed any fear at all. But not every little boy had a father who didn’t like horses and showed no interest in them the way Dat did.

“Come, Reuben.”

Reuben came over to stand by her, and she put a protective arm around his thin shoulders. He did not pull away.

“Watch, Reuben. There at the tree line.”

The wind blew softly as the trees whispered among themselves, the way trees do when the leaves are newly formed and velvety and rustling against each other. The grasses moved like waves of the ocean, restless, always moving in one direction or another, brushed by the ceaseless wind.

Sadie and Reuben stood together, her brown skirt blowing across his blue denim trousers. He wore no hat, leaving his hair free to blow in the wind in all its dark blonde glory. His brilliantly blue eyes were wide with fear now.

Sadie stood sturdily, unafraid. She did not believe for one minute that these horses would harm them, even the big black one. Perhaps if they were sitting on horses, the black stallion would become territorial and menacing, but it was unlikely with two human beings standing together.

These horses had been trained at one time, Sadie always felt sure. Why, she didn’t know. She just sensed in her spirit that they were not totally wild and untrained. Frightened, alone, learning to fend for themselves, but not wild.