Wild Horses (Sadie's Montana #1)(82)

Sadie opened the door to the kitchen. Without speaking, she went to the supply closet and found the vacuum bags.

Dorothy peered over her glasses.

“Whatcha doin’, honey?”

“I’ll start the upstairs.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“Talking to Richard Caldwell.”

“About what?”

“Oh, I’m getting a raise—$20 an hour more.”

“Pooh! Get along with you!”

As Sadie passed the downstairs office, she saw Richard Caldwell bent intently, his fingers working the keyboard of his computer.

That evening, the Miller supper lasted much longer than usual. After everyone had eaten their fill of Mam’s delicious fried chicken and baked potatoes, Sadie started the conversation.

Reuben looked up, wild-eyed.

“It’s okay, Reuben. My boss told me a few things so I’m going to tell Dat and Mam.”

With that, Sadie launched into a vivid account of her hikes, carefully watching Dat’s expression. Mam’s eyes were round with fright, then alarm, until finally, she burst out.

“Why, Sadie! I’m surprised at you. How could you do this?”

“Mam, it’s the age-old thing! Same as it always was!”

“What do you mean?”

“You never understood my love of horses. Never.”

Leah, Rebekah, and Anna all began talking at once. They scolded, asked questions, answered themselves, and just raised the most awful fuss Sadie had ever heard. She reached for the chicken platter. She knew the chicken was fattening and not very healthy, but it was the best fried chicken in all the world.

Mam rolled the chicken in flour, fried it in real butter, salted and peppered it generously, and when it was golden brown, laid it carefully on a baking sheet and finished it in the oven.

It was crispy and salty and buttery and fell off the bone in succulent mouthfuls. It was so good that you could eat a leg or thigh and not believe you had already eaten the whole thing. So you sort of went into denial about how much you were eating and reached for another piece. And it was perfectly all right because in the morning, you would have only an orange for breakfast. Not even a piece of toast. Certainly no butter or strawberry jelly.

Sadie put her fork into the perfectly done chicken thigh and pulled it away. She closed her eyes as she savored the rich flavor.

“Mmmm.”

“How can you sit there and eat as if nothing in all the world is wrong and after you went and pulled off this horrendous deed?” Rebekah asked.

Sadie put down her fork, leaned forward, her eyes alight.

“You want to know why? Because I gave up. I won’t go anymore. No one thinks it’s safe. And Paris—I mean, the palomino—will no longer come to the field of wildflowers for food if I’m not there to give it, and now I’m trying to relax. And if I cry into my pillow tonight, Rebekah, you are going to be the last to know!”

Dat watched his daughters without comment. He could see the unshed tears in Sadie’s eyes.

“Hey!” Reuben shouted above the din.

Everyone quieted, staring at normally disinterested Reuben.

“Rebekah, you know what? You should just hush up. You weren’t up there on that ridge with Sadie. I was. It’s something to see.”

“I would like to see it,” Dat said, quietly.

“You … What?”

All eyes turned to Dat who was sitting back in his chair, his eyes twinkling, running a hand casually through his thick, gray beard.

“Like I said, I would like to see where Sadie goes. I would like to see these horses. They’re as mysterious as a phantom or a ghost, so I would like to see for myself what is happening up there and whether the horses really are dangerous. They may not be a threat at all. The stallion wouldn’t be as long as there are no other horses around.”

Mam nodded in agreement, watching Dat’s face.

“But, you mean…? You mean I’m allowed to go again?”

“Yes. I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, Dat,” Sadie breathed.

It was all she could say.

Reuben bounced up and down, knocked his water glass over, then ran for a tea towel as Anna yelled and jumped out of the way when water dribbled onto her lap.

“Hurry, Reuben,” Leah said dryly.

The supper table was a bit chaotic after that. Sadie was so excited at the sudden and unexpected prospect of seeing Paris again that she ate another piece of fried chicken and a pumpkin whoopie pie and three slices of canned peaches. She was so full, even her ears felt warm to the touch.

“Are my ears red?” she asked, laughing.

“Magenta! Purple!” Anna shouted.

Mam told them all to quiet down, to get the dishes done and the kitchen swept. She still had some ironing to do. When Mam gave these barking orders and proceeded to do something she hadn’t done in years, Sadie remembered to thank God for the gift of her mother’s health and well-being. God had been good to all of them. It could have been so much worse and they all knew that. They would never again take Mam’s health for granted.

At Aspen East Ranch, the perfect moon rose and began its steady journey across the night sky into the starlit heavens. Gates creaked as gates do when the night air cools them, and horses moved slowly behind the fencing, their tails swishing as softly as the grasses surrounding them. A lone owl hooted down by the bunk house as a star fell, leaving a bright streak in the ever-enduring constellation of stars.