by Linda Byler
SADIE BROUGHT THE CURRY comb down across the honey-colored neck, finishing with an elaborate flourish. It was mostly to impress Reuben who was working on a tangle in Cody’s tail, his eyebrows drawn down as he concentrated.
“There!” Sadie said with a bright smile.
Reuben yanked on Cody’s tail before looking up, his eyebrows rising with the movement of his head. He gave a low whistle in a very grown up way, or so he hoped.
“She’s a picture!”
“Isn’t she?”
Reuben nodded, then voiced his exasperation. “Sadie, what do you do if a tangle just won’t come out?”
Sadie walked over, lifted Cody’s tail, and told Reuben to go get a pair of scissors from Mam.
“Make sure the scissors are old, not the expensive ones she uses to cut fabric, if you know what’s good for you.”
“You mean, you’re going to chop her tail right off—that far up?” he yelled as he dashed out the door.
Sadie answered but knew Reuben didn’t hear anyway, at the rate of speed in which he catapulted through the doorway.
When he returned, Sadie cut expertly through the coarse, black hair. The tail was shorter, but sleek and straight, and the stubborn tangle lay on the concrete floor of the forebay.
Stepping back, she surveyed the brown mare, then told Reuben to throw the cut hair into Paris’ stall.
“Oh, no, I’m not going to. This bunch of horse hair would be any bird’s dream come true—all this strong horse hair to build a good solid nest. Imagine the possibilities! Birds aren’t picky, you know. They use almost anything to build a nest.”
Sadie grinned, then told him to throw it out in the barnyard where the birds would find it.
They cleaned their saddles with an old piece of t-shirt and good saddle soap. Then they shook the saddle blankets over and over until the dirt and hair flew across the forebay. They wiped down the brown leather bridles, then began saddling up.
Reuben grunted as he swung his saddle up on Cody who lowered herself, bracing for the weight to land on her back. It was easier for Sadie who was taller and more experienced, but she nodded encouragement to Reuben.
“We wouldn’t have to use saddles,” he lamented.
“I know, Reuben, but it feels safer if we’re going to ride along the highway. What if a large rig would come flying around a corner, blow its horn, and terrify the horses? They haven’t been around much traffic lately.”
“Cody!” Reuben yelled, then turned to Sadie.
“Why does she do that when I want to tighten the cinch?”
Sadie laughed.
“How would you like to run with a tight band around your stomach? She gets smart and puffs her stomach out while you’re tightening it so that it’s not too tight when you let go.”
“Yeah, but then the saddle slips sideways. I’d rather ride bareback.”
“Not this time.”
Sadie swung herself up, adjusted her skirt, pinned her covering securely, then spoke softly to Paris. The horse stepped out eagerly, raising her head the minute she was out the door.
Reuben followed on Cody, still mumbling about using a saddle. His blonde hair lifted and separated in the never ceasing, restless Montana wind.
Paris stepped sideways, tossed her head, pranced forward and backward, dipped her head, then shook it from side to side as if to let Sadie know she was displeased about the saddle. It was an unnecessary evil that pinched her sides and was much too tight around her stomach.
“All right, Paris, now settle down. Be a good girl. Come on, come on. This saddle isn’t going to hurt you.”
“Cody likes hers,” Reuben told her happily.
“Looks as if she does.”
It was Saturday afternoon, and they were riding their horses a long way to see if they might possibly be able to purchase an old buggy. They had watched the ads in the local paper until they found one that sounded promising.
Buckboard. Good condition. $500.
Call 786-3142
Sadie and Reuben had huddled nervously in the phone shanty as Sadie dialed the number, then whacked their palms together in a resounding high-five when she hung up. They had raced across the driveway and into the house to tell Mam.
Mam smiled as her eyes crinkled and she told them she hoped it was as good as they thought. Then she shook her head after they raced back out the door, the wooden screen door slapping its usual annoyance.
How could you expect that Sadie to grow up as long as she loved horses so much? She couldn’t care less about finding a husband as far as Mam could tell. It got discouraging at times, the way she just skipped over the part of life she should be concerned about most. After all, at 21 years old, her best chances were gone, and if she didn’t soon worry about starting a relationship with a decent young man, she may not have any chances, in Mam’s opinion.
Mam sighed as she watched Sadie and Reuben ride down the driveway. She hoped they wouldn’t encounter too many Amish people. Riding a horse wasn’t as ladylike as Mam thought it should be. A horse-drawn buggy was much more appropriate for getting around.
Then the thought hit her, and she sat down weakly and began fanning herself with the hem of her apron. Sadie and Reuben were thinking of breaking Paris and Cody so the horses would pull that rattling, derelict old buggy they were planning to purchase.
And that is exactly what they planned to do.
Reuben said the only harm the two horses could do would be to run and kick if they were both hitched to the same singletree. Sadie said the old buggy couldn’t be in very good shape for only $500, but she would not want to see it fly into a thousand pieces. This caused Reuben to throw his head back and howl with glee at the sheer thought of so much excitement.
When had the change in Reuben started, and where would it stop? The small, thin body that had trembled beside her as they stood on the ridge waiting for the horses to appear had been transformed into an adventure-loving youth who seemed to find no reason to be careful. He rode Cody like the wind, having very little thought, if any, of the chance of a mishap.
Cody was chomping at the bit, tossing her head, waiting for the signal to run. Sadie told Reuben to hold her back. They had a long ride ahead of them, and there was no use working the horses into a lather so soon.
They turned right on to a county road, holding their horses at a brisk walk. The wind carried the same sighing note Sadie never tired of, and meadowlarks flew up and whirred away on busy, brown wings. The side of the road was dotted with small, pink bitterroot, which grew rampantly. It always added a touch of color, as if an artist had painted the deep pink when the picture was completed, simply to add interest.
Sadie’s dress was a deep blue, though worn and a bit snug. She admitted this grudgingly. Too many days of healing that busted leg, she knew. Too many days sitting around the kitchen table with freshly baked cookies and cups of steaming coffee, laughing and talking and unaware of the amount of cookies she was consuming.
Her brown hair pulled loose from her covering and she tugged at it impatiently. She should have worn a dichly, but Mam would never allow it when she was in public and going to do business with a stranger.
They rounded a bend in the road, then began the climb up the lower hills of Sloam’s Ridge. The pines sighed in the breeze, making Sadie’s heart dip with the sadness of it.
Would the memories always raise their heads, crying for attention like a child craving to be remembered and noticed? It was never easy crossing this ridge in a buggy or a vehicle. Riding on horseback in the open air made it all even more memorable than before.
Even Reuben rode somberly, his head bent slightly, the back of his neck exposed between his hair and brown shirt collar. Cody swished her tail, flailing at unseen flies, walking steadily while Paris followed, their heads bobbing in unison.
Sadie tried not to look down the side of the steep embankment, turning her head to watch the pines on the opposite side of the road, following Reuben as Cody made her way carefully dow
n the other side.
Sadie loved riding and being suspended above the ground, her feet solidly encased in stirrups. It was a support she could trust. She loved the creaking of the leather, the rocking gait of a horse moving along, the thick mane moving in that peculiar rhythm—hair so heavy it moved the skin beneath it. She loved the heavy, leather reins giving her the satisfaction of being in control of the beloved horse that carried her.
They came to a crossroad, and Reuben turned to look at Sadie. “Which way?”
Sadie pursed her lips. “Hmm. Right, I think.”
“You wanna gallop?”
“We can.”
Reuben leaned forward, making the squirrelly sound he always did, and Cody leaped ahead. Paris quickly followed, eager to run. They loped along easily, content to watch the surrounding countryside and for any passing vehicles.
Sadie caught sight of a lone person on the roof of the old, weathered barn next to the Oxford place where Dat had built one of his smallest log cabins.
Who in the world would even think of patching up that old barn roof? The whole thing looked as if it could go sailing into the wild blue yonder the minute a good strong wind hit it broadside.
She watched, jumping as a piece of rusty metal went sliding down along the rafters, falling to the ground below. As they neared, she could see that the roof was being dismantled, one piece of rusted steel at a time.
Reuben watched, then slowed Cody to a walk.
“Somebody’s tearing down that barn.”
“Wonder what for?” Sadie asked.
“Think the horses will get scared next time he tears a piece of steel loose?”
“Let’s wait here a moment.”
They watched as the man on the roof pried off another piece of steel before they urged the horses on. As they passed, Sadie thought something seemed familiar. It was the set of his shoulders or the way he raised his arms.
What was it? Why did the person on the roof seem so familiar, as if she had seen him before?
He turned, noticing them, and stopped working.
Sadie recognized him at the same time he saw her, or so it seemed. At first her mind grasped it, then her heart engulfed it—this wonderful, all-consuming knowledge of who was on the roof.
Then doubt and fear tore loose, a tornado so strong she felt it suck her breath away along with her heart—out and away, never to be recovered, torn away and destroyed. She felt like a person drowning as she gasped at the sight of the man on the roof.
It was Mark Peight.
His white teeth in that dark face! His smile! She had forgotten.
Her nerveless hands pulled on the reins, willing Paris to walk as slowly as she had ever walked before. He inclined his head in a sort of bow, an acknowledgment that he knew she was Sadie Miller, that he remembered her and was glad to see her.
Reuben looked up and then back at Sadie. His eyes showed the whites the whole way around, and he was completely at a loss for even one word for once in his young life.
He stopped Cody and Paris’ nose bumped into Cody’s rump.
“Is that…who I think it is? That Mark guy?” Reuben hissed.
Sadie didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
Her eyes were riveted on Mark’s. He was so far away, but there was no space between them, no time, nothing but the great shower of light that appeared from somewhere to illuminate the distance between them.
Mark raised his hand, then called, “Hang on. I’ll be down.”
Sadie tried to fix the hair that had pulled loose from her covering, but it did no good so she let it go. Her fingers weren’t working properly as it was, so she may as well not try.
Should she get down? Or stay up on Paris?
Better to dismount, fix her dress—her dress that was too old and too small. Why in the world hadn’t she taken the time to change?
And then he stood before her, his hands reaching to her shoulders before looking at Reuben and dropping them to his sides.
“Sadie.”
“Mark. Welcome back.”
“Thank you. This is Reuben?”
Reuben nodded happily, his grin literally spreading from one side of his face to the other. All his teeth were shining visibly, his eyes crinkling to a thin line of pure delight.
“Why’d you come back to Montana? I thought you were going to stay in Pennsylvania,” she asked slyly.
Mark laughed good-naturedly. It was a sound Sadie loved.
“Well, Pennsylvania is nice, but Montana is nicer.”
Reuben smiled, and Sadie prayed he would keep his mouth closed.
He didn’t, of course. “I bet! Sadie don’t live in P.A.!”
Sadie cringed when he said “P.A.” Oh, how common! How old-timer-like! He could have at least said “Pennsylvania.”
Mark scuffed the toe of his work boot against a tuft of grass, averting his eyes. Those impossibly thick, black eyelashes swept his cheeks, and he didn’t answer.
Sadie was humiliated to the point of tears. He probably hadn’t come back for her at all, and here was Reuben blatantly throwing her at him, as if he was so sure of the fact that anyone would be glad to be dating his sister.
Mark raised his eyes which were crinkled at the corners, still good-natured, still kind.
“Well, now, Reuben, I don’t know about that. Hey, you think the horses might be thirsty? It’s a warm day. Come on down to the barn. Maybe you can give them a drink.”
Reuben slid off his horse, bounding lightly on his feet, his thick hair lifting and falling.
“Where’s your straw hat?” Mark asked, still grinning.
“Don’t wear one. Can’t. Blows off all the time.”
“Fine by me. Can you take the horses, and I’ll show your sister around my place?”
My place? My place. Oh, my. Mark Peight had bought this property?
Reuben grabbed the reins before Sadie could recover her senses and walked away jauntily, whistling under his breath.
They were alone.
Mark turned to her immediately. She couldn’t breathe properly. It was this dress. It constricted her breathing. She was actually having irregular heartbeats, and there was a rushing sound in her ears.
“Hello.”
That was all he said. She tried not to take a step forward, but she did. Her feet took steps of their own, and she closed the terrible distance between them.
He folded her soft form close to his heart and held her there for the space of a heartbeat, not nearly enough to assure her of his feelings for her.
Why did he pull away so quickly? He must not want her at all, or he would convey his love in the most natural way on earth, to have and to hold. Was she so repulsive to him that he could only hold her for the space of one heartbeat? The loss was too great to bear.
She steeled herself before meeting his brown eyes, willing herself to be strong even in his denial of her.
“You are still so beautiful—even more than I remember.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“I’m back. I bought this place, Sadie. I can’t wait to get started remodeling and fixing it up.”
He gestured toward the barn.
Sadie smiled then.
“It’s actually yours?”
“Well, the bank’s. I have a mortgage, of course. But, yes, it’s mine. I will make my home here in Montana. I love it here, the wide open spaces, the clean air, but most of all, the work I do as a farrier. I get paid well for shoeing horses at these ranches. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. I do other things as well—trim hooves, float teeth… I’m sort of an overall horse guy who helps other people with their animals.”
Sadie nodded, then looked around.
“Where is the house?”
Mark laughed.
“There isn’t one.”
“Where do you stay?”
“In the barn, but just for the summer. I’ll probably have to winter over with my uncle.”
“In … in the barn?”
“I f
ixed up a room. It’s quite livable, actually.”
There was a yell from the lower end of the barn, and Mark grinned down at Sadie.
“He found it.”
He turned to her then and stepped very close, his hand touching her chin as light as a summer breeze.
“Sadie, before we go to be with Reuben, I have to talk to you. I’m back in Montana because of you. I can’t be away from you—this much I know for sure. The rest … is painful. I need time. My life is a puzzle with most of the pieces lost. I never liked working on jigsaw puzzles with little ones around to lose all the pieces … but … Let’s just say almost all my border pieces are lost. I’m not sure anything good can come of my determination to get you back, but if I don’t try, my life stretches before me like a long, hard road without joy.”
He paused, then gripped her shoulders.
“Please, Sadie.”
What was that look in his brown eyes? So intense. So…
“Mark, I…”
“All I ask is your patience. I’ll … I will learn to talk if you will listen. We can’t date publicly for now. Can you agree to this for awhile, or am I asking too much?”
Sadie looked into his brown eyes, sure that she would follow him to the ends of the earth.
Whithersoever thou goest, I will go.
The words started as a high, keening note, a song that rolled down from the heavens on wings of angels. As clear as a windswept day after a storm, Sadie recognized her destiny and, smiling, took a step toward Mark, ready to at least begin on this path with him.
“Hey, guys! Where are you?”
Mark caught Sadie’s hand, and they walked to the barn in the afternoon sunlight, the grasses and the bitterroot swaying by the driveway.
The End
—
The Glossary
Bisht—A Pennsylvania Dutch dialect word meaning, “Are you?”
Braufa gaul—A Pennsylvania Dutch dialect phrase meaning, “Good horse.”
Broadfall pants—Pants worn by Amish men and fastened with buttons rather than a zipper.
Chrisht Kindly—A Pennsylvania Dutch dialect phrase meaning, “Christ Child.”
Covering—A fine mesh headpiece worn by Amish females in an effort to follow the Amish interpretation of a New Testament teaching in 1 Corinthians 11.