Read Online Wild Horses by Linda Byler - Free Book Online Page B

6

    M AM WAS IN THE kitchen at six o’clock the following morning, frying bacon in her good Lifetime pan, her hair neatly in place beneath her covering, a fresh white apron tied around her waist. Dat sat at his desk in the adjoining room, his gray head bent over a few papers spread before him.
    So normal. A fresh start. Last night was all a bad dream which would soon evaporate like a mist, Sadie thought.
    “Good morning!” she said.
    Dat returned the greeting, avoiding her eyes, and Mam turned, the spatula dripping bacon grease, and smiled.
    “Good morning, Sadie.”
    Sadie sliced the heavy loaf of whole wheat bread, then spread the thick slices in the broiler part of the gas oven to make toast as Mam broke eggs into another pan.
    The ordinary silence was deafening this morning, taut with undiagnosed worries and fears. Sadie desperately wanted to chatter needlessly, the way families do, comfortably knowing their words are accepted, considered worth something of importance. Not until now had she ever thought of the pure luxury of such simple things.
    But they had the snow, the heat from the great woodstove, the smell of bacon—the usual parts of their lives that bound them together.
    She cleared her throat.
    “I … guess you heard about the horse, huh?”
    “What horse?” Mam asked without turning.
    Sadie told them of the previous day’s excitement, but her words banged against the wall, slid down, faded into the hardwood floor, and became nothing at all.
    Dat was still poring over his papers, and Mam made a sort of clucking sound with her tongue, which could mean a series of warnings or wonderment or amazement. Or she may have done it completely out of habit from listening to four daughters and their views of life in general.
    Sadie tried again to part the curtain of indifference.
    “Did the chiropractor help you, Mam?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good.”
    Sadie poured the rich, purple grape juice into short, heavy glasses and then sat down. She pulled her chair up to the table, and Dat, Mam, and Sadie bowed their heads, their hands folded in their laps, for a silent prayer before they began eating their breakfast.
    Dat lifted his head, looked questioningly at Sadie, and lifted one eyebrow.
    “Where’s Leah?”
    “Asleep, I guess. She has off today.”
    “The reason I ask, I saw someone walking down the driveway at one o’clock last night. Was it you? Do you know anything about it? Definitely a dark coat, scarf, and a skirt. The snow had stopped before then, but I still couldn’t see clearly enough to tell who it was.”
    “It wasn’t me,” said Sadie. “And why would Leah be walking in the snow at that hour? That’s creepy. Are you sure?”
    “Sure I’m sure.” His tone was brusque, his manner brushing off her question like bothersome dust.
    Mam bowed her head, shoveling bacon onto her plate with studied movements. Suddenly she raised her head. Sadie noticed the grayish pallor, the dark circles, the shadows beneath her eyes that made her appear so sad, so…almost pitiful.
    “It was me. I … sometimes when I wake at night, my thoughts seem like real voices, and they all cram into a tiny space, and I can’t quite sort them out the way I should. So I thought perhaps my head would clear if I walked in the snow for awhile, Jacob.”
    “But I thought you were there in the bed beside me.”
    “Oh, I just propped up a few pillows so it looked like I was there so you wouldn’t worry.”
    Dat frowned. Mam turned to Sadie.
    “You’ll probably think there’s something wrong with me, but, Sadie, I saw something in the faint light of the half-moon and the stars. The snow wasn’t blowing anymore, and over on Atkin’s Ridge, just about at the tree line, there were animals sort of milling about in and out of the trees. At first I thought they were elk, then long-horned cattle, then… I’m not sure if they were horses or not, but it was something.”
    Sadie looked into her mother’s eyes. There was an earnestness