Read Online Wild Horses by Linda Byler - Free Book Online

vote. Grilled cheese and tomato soup?”
    “Ewww!”
    “Hamburgers?”
    “Had that last night!”
    “Hot dogs?”
    “No way. Not for supper.”
    Sadie watched Leah summoning more strength, a wide smile appearing, as she said, “Eggs-in-a-nest? With homemade ketchup?”
    “Pancakes!” Reuben yelled.
    “Pancakes!” Anna echoed.
    “All right, pancakes and eggs-in-a-nest it shall be.”
    Leah marched resolutely to the kitchen cupboard, Rebekah at her heels, and Sadie slipped away, gratefully unnoticed.
    Bless Leah’s heart. I don’t know if I could do that right now. I’m tired, I’m worried, and I’m going to my room.
    Wearily, Sadie slowly climbed the stairs, supporting herself with the handrail. She entered the bathroom, lit the kerosene lamp suspended from the wall on a heavy hanger, and braced herself against the vanity top with her hands. Her hair looked horrible, her covering crooked, and there was a greasy sheen on her forehead. Her eyes were puffy and frightened, her whole face a mess.
    Well, it’s been quite a day, she thought, turning away from the mirror and going to her bedroom.
    She felt a strong sense of homecoming, rest, and peace as she entered the cool, beige room with its two large windows facing the west. Heavy, white curtains were parted on each side, held back with sand-colored tiebacks to match the bedspread. Her furniture was fairly new; a matching oak bedroom suite made by her Uncle John from the Ohio district where they had once lived. She had collected some pottery that was handmade in Brentwood, which was her pride and joy. White and beige candles and pictures in subdued hues completed the room.
    There was a beige-colored sofa by the windows piled with darker beige pillows, and she sank gratefully into one corner, letting her head fall back as she closed her eyes.
    Dear God, if you can hear me in my rattled, frightened way, please, please, look down on us and help us all. What should I do? Should I confront Mam? Talk to Dat?
    Suddenly she realized that was her first priority—talking to Dat. He was good and steady and sensible. He would explain the situation, they would find some plausible solution, and this would all be over.
    It had to be over. She couldn’t bear to think of Mam spiraling out of control, or worse. There had been so much strange behavior lately, but always Mam’s good behavior was dominant and erased the questionable times for Sadie and, evidently, for Leah, too. She wondered how much 16-year-old Rebekah knew? Or Anna and Reuben?
    Oh, dear God, keep them innocent and safe from worry.
    The time Mam insisted there were ladybugs in the pepper shaker was the first Sadie had ever noticed anything amiss, other than her usual lack of energy. Usual is what it had finally come to be. Mam was not the same and hadn’t been for a few years now. This became increasingly obvious to Sadie after she and Leah had finally confronted the truth.
    First, Mam no longer wanted a garden. Mam not have a garden? It was unthinkable. How could you live without a garden? The growing season was too short, she said, and then the soil was too thin, her back bothered her, and it was easier to just buy frozen or canned vegetables at the supermarket in Brentwood.
    Dat’s irritation flickered in his eyes, but he appeased his wife, saying if she no longer had an interest in gardening, then he supposed they could survive without one. Smiles then, but a bit like a clown’s, painted on.
    After Mam stopped gardening, her fear of bugs began, but only jokingly. If you laughed about it and said Montana didn’t have very many bugs, she laughed with you and dropped the subject.
    Ach, Mam. My Mam. My rock in my youth. In Ohio she was the best, most supportive, most nurturing mother anyone could possible ask for. Sadie had always felt lucky to have one of the best. And that first year in Montana had been so good, building the barn and remodeling the house.
    Sadie sighed. It was all downhill from there.
    She