by Linda Byler
Yanking open the door to the house, she hobbled through, banged her crutches against the wall, and shrugged out of her coat without bothering to hang it up. Now if she could just get upstairs without anyone noticing, she’d be all right.
“Sadie! Who was on the phone?” This from Dat.
She kept going, hoping he wouldn’t ask again.
“Sadie! Come here. Who was on the phone?”
Resignedly, her shoulders slumped, she turned obediently into the living room.
“It was Mark Peight.”
“Who?”
Her uncles stopped drinking their coffee, a chocolate-covered Ritz cracker held in midair.
“Just someone I know. He’s coming over to help look for Nevaeh.”
“He doesn’t need to. We’ll find him. We’re going to head out soon.”
“Well, he says he’s coming over.”
The men resumed their talking and she turned, grinding her teeth in frustration.
Parents! Nosey old things. Why did Dat have to act so grosfeelich in front of Samuel and Levi?
Panting, she reached the top of the stairs. Rebekah and Leah were in their rooms unpacking Christmas gifts. Sadie decided not to say anything—just go to her room and fix her hair.
Which dress?
Oh, my.
Just leave this one on? No, she spilled gravy on the front. Red? No, she had worn it at the mall. Blue? She had a gazillion blue dresses. Green? She looked ugly in green. Well, not the deep, deep forest green with nice sleeves. Anna said that color made her eyes look blue for sure and her skin a beautiful olive color. Anna was a bit dramatic. Whoever heard of olive skin? Well, forest green it was.
Her back ached and her arms slumped wearily as she put the final hairpin into her wrecked hair. She felt as if her strength would never return, sometimes being impatient with her lack of energy.
She had experienced trauma, she knew. Ezra was gone, and sometimes, at the oddest moments, she missed his kind face. Always she was glad she had planned on dating and marrying him. She would have. But in all things there is a reason. This is what she was taught.
God knew what he was doing from his throne on high. The ministers assured everyone in the congregation about this. God had a plan for each individual life and cared about each one. When things like the accident happened, you had to bow your head in true submission, saying, “Thy will be done.” It afforded a certain peace in the end, if you could mean it.
Sadie had gone through moments of self-blame. She wondered if she was false-hearted and if she should not have gone with Ezra that fateful evening. Her sisters assured her those thoughts were the devil trying to destroy her, and she needed to be watchful. What would you do without sisters? They were, indeed, the most precious thing God had ever thought about creating.
When two heads appeared at her door and two more nosey questions were thrown into the room, Sadie grinned.
“Oh, someone’s coming to help look for Nevaeh.”
Rebekah came in and plunked herself on Sadie’s bed.
“Let me guess. Mark Peight or Mark Peight or Mark Peight?”
Sadie whirled, throwing her hairbrush.
“Smarty!”
He showed up then, and in a horse and buggy, too. Sadie could tell it was not his team. It was an “old people’s” horse and buggy. The difference was plain to see. The youth had sparkling, clean, new buggies with lots of reflectors and pretty things hung inside the windows. There was brightly-colored upholstery on the walls and seats and matching carpet on the floor. The horse’s harness was usually gaily decorated as well, with shining collar hames, a colorful collar pad, and a bridle studded with silver.
This horse and buggy looked exactly like the one her parents’ had. It was clean but dull, with a black, traditional harness without silver or color—a very Amish team.
Just as English youth enjoy a nice car, so it was with the Amish buggies. Sadie often thought about that. Youth were youth, each one trying to be someone—nature’s way of calling for a mate. Wasn’t that true? She had never said that. It sounded too … well, sort of primitive or a bit vulgar perhaps, depending who heard you say it.
English people liked to think Amish people were elevated a bit or in a highly esteemed place, and so just a bit better than they were. Hopefully the Amish were good, although Sadie knew they were certainly also human. Sadie guessed, that some areas, their heritage was a God-given thing, a gift they had acquired at birth. She wondered if Mark truly had been born and raised in an Amish home.
Who knew?
He definitely was a mystery.
And then, he saw her standing hesitantly at the door. He waved and said he’d put his horse in the barn and be right back.
Sadie swung to the kitchen table and sat down a bit weakly, trying to appear calm and nonchalant—if that was even a possibility.
Oh, my!
Dat, Uncle Levi, and Uncle Samuel had the worst timing in the world. How could they? The exact minute Mark appeared in the kitchen hallway, they all crowded in, all talking at once, trying to come up with a feasible plan to find the missing horse.
“What I cannot understand is how that horse got out in the first place,” Dat was saying.
“Someone had to let him out,” Uncle Levi said, setting down his coffee cup and reaching for a handful of Chex Mix. He chomped down on the salty mixture, scattering half of it across the clean linoleum floor.
Sadie sighed. Mark stood in the hallway. Then Samuel turned and caught sight of him.
“Hi, there!”
Too loudly. Too boisterously. Sadie despaired.
“Come on in. Make yourself at home, whoever you are. One of these bachelors that feel the pull of the West?”
Oh, no! Sadie wanted to disappear through the floor, down into the basement, and through that floor, too.
Mark grinned, and said quietly, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Dat? This is Mark Peight. Mark, my father and his brothers, Samuel and Levi.
“You all live around here?”
“Oh, yes. We do. Been here for five years, almost six.”
Dat’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know Sadie?”
Sadie tried to salvage her pride by telling them Mark was the one who came upon her on the road with Nevaeh before Richard Caldwell had the veterinarian nurse him back to health.
“Mmmm,” Uncle Samuel said, nodding his head in that certain way, his eyes twinkling.
Levi grinned outright. Sadie willed him to be quiet.
They talked loudly now about other horses who had gotten away, the size of the pasture, if anyone believed there were actual horse thieves in this day and age, and whether there was a band of wild horses. The conversation turned to the night of the accident.
Sadie caught a movement behind the bathroom door.
Mam!
What was she doing pressed between the door and the shower curtain? Listening? Why wouldn’t she come to the kitchen?
“I know that horse was there this morning. I know it,” Dat insisted.
“But if he was, someone had to let him out. Do you think there could be a horse thief in broad daylight?” Levi asked around his Chex Mix.
“Hey, they do anything these days.”
“Let’s go search the pasture.”
They got into their coats, smashed their wool hats on their heads, stuck their feet into boots, pulled on gloves, and were gone.
Mark turned back, searching Sadie’s eyes.
“We’ll find him,” he assured her.
“Oh, I hope,” she whispered.
She held his gaze. Too long. The kitchen was filled with nothing at all. It all went away, except for the look in Mark’s eyes. It was a look so consuming, she heard singing, sort of a tune in her mind, a speck of happiness in song she had never heard before in her life.
Was love a song? Sort of, she figured.
Boy, she was in dangerous territory now, letting that happen. But she could have no more looked away
than she could have stopped breathing. It was so natural.
Oh, my.
She sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands, turmoil in her heart.
An hour passed with Aunt Lydia and Aunt Rachel sitting in the kitchen with her. They drank coffee, sampled desserts, and talked of things women talk about—having babies, which laundry soap works best, how to secure towels to the wash line without the ceaseless wind tearing them off and away, whose teacher was strict, whose was incompetent, and so on.
Sadie was becoming very worried and uneasy. She tapped her nails on the tabletop. How long could it take to find a horse in a pasture? It wasn’t that big.
Finally she heard voices and stamping feet.
Mark came in first, his face grim, followed by Dat, Levi, and Samuel. Their noses were red, eyes serious.
Sadie rose, standing on one leg. A hand went to her throat.
“What? Did you find him?”
Mark looked at Dat. Dat shook his head, saying nothing. Mark cleared his throat and looked away. Sadie knew, then, that something was wrong.
“What? Did you find him? Someone tell me.”
They told her.
They got to the very lower end of the pasture where the alders and brush almost hid the fence. The fence was torn, even the post pulled out. Brush everywhere. Snow mixed with the dirt and brown winter grasses. Signs of a terrible struggle. Blood. Lots of blood.
The blood left a trail that was easy to follow. They found Nevaeh. He was down, a great gash torn in the tender part of his stomach. There was a pool of blood and he was holding his hind leg at a grotesque angle.
Mark’s head was bent, one shoe pushing against the baseboard.
“But…” Sadie stammered.
It was not exactly clear what happened, what caused Nevaeh to become so frightened he became impaled on the fence post. Perhaps there was a cougar.
“But … how could he bleed to death?” Sadie whispered.
“He didn’t…completely. His leg was broken, almost off. We…we had to put him down.”
Sadie lifted agonized eyes to Dat, Levi, Samuel, and finally to Mark.
“Why?”
It was all she could think to say. Paris, then Ezra, and now Nevaeh. Would she be able to bow her head in submission one more time? What purpose was there in letting that beautiful horse die? There was no reason that made any sense. God was not cruel this way, was he?
Dat came over with Rebekah and Leah. They all touched her, trying to convey some sort of hope, sympathy, caring, but Sadie was past feeling anything. She was numb, completely numb.
“We’ll get you another horse, Sadie,” Dat said, so kindly.
“We have a hospital bill,” Mam said sharply.
Everyone turned to stare at her, most of them in disbelief.
Dat straightened, said grimly, “I know we have a hospital bill. God will provide a way for us to pay it.”
Rachel and Lydia exchanged glances as Mam turned, her eyes black with hatred, and … what else?
Sadie was afraid, shaken.
Dear God, help us all.
They had company now. She must brace up for Dat’s sake.
Sadie squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and willed the pool of tears to be contained for now.
“Well,” she said, quietly. “He didn’t suffer long.”
Dat shook his head.
Mark said, “He was brave. That horse was…”
He stopped.
Sadie nodded, then said, “Well, it’s Christmas. Why don’t we make another pot of coffee?”
Everyone smiled in agreement, relieved at Sadie’s strength. Lydia gave her shoulder a squeeze of reassurance, and Rachel smiled a shaky smile in her direction.
Reuben, Anna, and the gaggle of towheaded cousins clattered up from the basement. Dashing into the kitchen, they slid to a stop when they saw all the serious faces.
“Did you find Nevaeh?” Anna asked innocently, helping herself to a large dish of date pudding.
“Yes, we did,” Dat answered.
“Good!”
Reuben grabbed three large squares of peanut butter fudge, was told to return two of them to the platter, and then he dashed out the door. The cousins followed, clumping back down the stairs to the basement.
“There’s some serious ping-pong going on down there,” Levi grinned.
Mark came over, stood by Sadie, and asked if she wanted to see Nevaeh.
“How would I?” she asked, gesturing to her cast.
“Do you have an express wagon?” he asked, looking around.
Dat brought the express wagon and Mark spread his buggy robe on it. Her sisters bundled Sadie up and deposited her unceremoniously on the wooden wagon. Then she and Mark were off.
They didn’t talk. Mark focused on using his strength to pull the express wagon through the trampled snow, and Sadie had nothing to say. The whole afternoon had a sense of unreality and, now that the sun was casting a reddish glow behind Atkin’s Ridge and creating the color of lavender on the snow, it all seemed like a fairy tale.
Sadie shivered, then smiled up at Mark when he looked back to ask how she was doing.
They came to the place where the fence was torn. The post hung by one strand of barbed wire. Its top was rough and not cut evenly, the way some western fences were built. Snow was mixed with dirt, grass flung about, bits of frozen ground clinging to the post as if reluctant to let go.
Mark showed her where Nevaeh had started bleeding, then began pulling her through the thick brush. She held up an arm to shield her face as snow showered her from the branches. She used the other arm to hold onto the wagon. She bent her head to avoid the whipping brush. Then the wagon stopped.
“Here he is.”
That’s all Mark said.
Sadie looked and saw the beautiful black and white coat—saw Nevaeh. It’s strange how a horse’s head looks so small and flat and vulnerable when it lies on its side. Its neck, too. Its body seems much too large for that small head. Dat told her once that horses don’t lie flat like that for a long period of time; they have difficulty breathing.
Yes, Dat, I know. But Nevaeh is not having difficulty breathing. She’s not even breathing. She’s dead.
Sadie gathered her thoughts and remembered Mark.
She was not going to cry, not when she was with Mark. She was always in some kind of stupid trouble when he was around, so no crying. Certainly not this time. Nevaeh was only a horse.
And then she lowered her face in her hands and cried hard. She sniffled and sobbed and needed a handkerchief. Her eyes became red and swollen, and so did her nose. Tears poured through her fingers, and she shook all over with the force of her sobs.
Mark made one swift, fluid movement, and he was on his knees at her side. His arms came around her, heavy and powerful, and he held her head to his shoulder the way a small child is comforted. He just held her until her sobs weakened and slowed, the way a thunderstorm fades away on a summer day. Tears, like rain, still fell, but the power of her grief was relieved.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally, hiccuping.
“Sadie, Sadie.”
That’s all he said.
She didn’t know how long they were there, Sadie seated on the wagon, Mark on his knees. She just knew she never, ever wanted him to go away. She wanted those strong, sure arms around her forever. Of this she was certain.
Besides, nothing else made any sense.
Finally he released her, leaned back, searched her eyes.
“You okay?”
Meeting his eyes, Sadie nodded.
That was a mistake, was her first coherent thought, before his arms came around her again, crushing her to him. He held her so tightly, her ribs actually hurt a bit. Then he released her quite suddenly, stood up, cleared his throat, and went to pick up the wagon tongue. He trudged back to the house, not saying a word.
Sadie was stung, mortified. What had she done wrong? Had she offended him?
At the house, he
declined her invitation to come in for coffee. Instead he hurriedly hitched his horse to the carriage and flew down the drive at a dangerous speed. It seemed he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Sadie knew she had lost him again.
Chapter 16
AFTER THE CUMBERSOME CAST WAS REMOVED, Sadie returned to the ranch.
It was wonderful to be back. Richard Caldwell welcomed her with his powerful voice bouncing off the cathedral ceilings. Jim told her, in his drawly, shy manner, that the place was not the same without her.
“Yer sorta like one o’ them sunbeams that comes down out o’ the gray skies, Sadie,” he said, sliding the ever-present toothpick to the opposite side of his teeth.
“Why, thank you, Jim. That’s a very nice compliment,” Sadie told him.
Dorothy held nothing back. She wept, she hugged Sadie close, she stood back to look deep into Sadie’s eyes, wiped her own eyes with a paper towel, honked her nose into it, then shook her head.
“In all my days, Sadie honey, I never seen nothin’ like it. When I walked into that there hospital and seen you layin’ there, I thought the hand o’ God was hovering right above your head. God brought you through. Only God. Praise his Almighty Name, an’ I mean it.”
Dorothy paused for breath, plunked her ample little body onto a kitchen chair, reached for her half-empty coffee cup. She set it down, pulled at her skirt, and began rubbing her knee.
“You know there’s a new store in town called Dollar Tree? Well, that’s where I got you that china cross. The artificial flowers around that cross looked so real, I swear I coulda pulled ‘em out o’ my own flower patch. You liked that, didn’t you?”
Sadie nodded enthusiastically.
“Oh, yes, I put it away with the rest of the things in my hope chest,” she said carefully.
Dorothy’s eyes brightened.
“You did? See? I knew you’d like that! Too pretty for your room, wasn’t it? You had to put it away for your own house once you get married! Well, I always had good taste when it comes to gift-giving. Just have a knack there. I’ll tell you what, on your weddin’ day, I’ll get you another one, an’ you can have one on each side of your hutch cupboard.” Dorothy slapped her knee with enthusiasm, watching Sadie’s face like a small bird.
