Authors: Linda Byler
M
AM WAS ALARMED WHEN
she saw Sadie after work that day. Her oldest daughter’s face was so pale, she looked sick. Her typically sunny, blue eyes looked dark gray, as if thunder had hovered over them all day.
“Sadie? Are you all right?”
It was the tone of her mother’s voice, the kindness in her face, that unraveled Sadie completely, a spool of yarn with one end tugged relentlessly.
She threw herself into her mother’s arms, and like a six-year-old who felt she was punished unfairly, she hiccupped and warbled and cried and talked. Her sisters gathered around the kitchen table, clucking and oohing and aahing and sympathizing until the whole day had been laid bare for the entire family to examine. Even Dat caught the tail end of the story when he came home from work an hour later.
They laughed at Dorothy’s view of Bertie, exclaimed at the jewels, and became doe-eyed when Sadie described how Mark Peight walked down the garden walkway. They all added their opinions, but grew completely embarrassed at Sadie’s announcement of love to him.
Dat caught Mam’s eye, and shook his head.
“So there you are. I know I’m not allowed to see Mark, but I also know I want to be with him until the end of my days. I love him. I know my life will not be as easy as some, but I need to be with him. I feel it’s my destiny.”
After a pause, Dat spoke softly, gravely.
“Well, Sadie, if you believe that it is God’s will, would you give Mam and me a few weeks to pray about this? We’re not going to forbid it, but we need to be very, very careful. Then we will see what unfolds.”
“I can tell you what’s unfolding right now, and that’s my stomach. Whatever is up with having no supper?” Reuben announced, getting out of the recliner and clutching his empty abdomen.
“Let’s get pizza!” Anna shouted.
“Pizza!” Reuben echoed.
“Who has money?”
“Not me.”
“I would if we’d just get pizza, but till everyone has their cheesesteaks and ham subs and Pepsi, the bill will come to more than $50.00.”
“I’ll make a homemade pizza. We have leftover chicken corn soup…”
“No-o-o!” Reuben wailed.
“I’ll pay 20,” Dat volunteered.
“I’ll pay 10!”
“Ten!”
“Who’s going to order?”
“Who do you think?” Mam asked, pointing to Sadie.
Sadie laughed and got a scrap of paper and pen, wrote down the order, and went to the phone shanty to call the little rural pizza shop that delivered pizza to the homes spread around the lovely, Montana countryside.
On the way back to the house, Sadie’s heart filled with love for her family. Her emotions had run a gauntlet that day, but how wonderfully firm was the foundation under her indecisive feet. The love and devotion of a family was a solid structure that held together through all of life’s trials, above any storm that blew in. And how would life ever be manageable without her sisters and Reuben?
When the pizza arrived, the family was prepared with a stack of plates, tall glasses loaded with ice cubes, and Mam’s bread knife to cut through the thick crust.
They remembered to bow their heads, their hands folded in their laps while they all prayed in silence. The girls had their own private joke about “putting patties down,” the Pennsylvania Dutch version of saying a blessing, when pizza was ordered in. Dat never seemed to pray quite as long, and tonight was no different. Sadie was pretty sure Reuben didn’t pray at all, the way he shrugged his shoulders and swung his feet. His head was only bowed halfway, and he watched the pepperoni on the pizza the way a cat watches a mouse nibbling on oats in the forebay of the barn.
When they raised their heads and Mam reached for the knife to cut the pizza, Sadie caught Rebekah’s eye. They ducked their heads before Dat could catch their smiles.
It was delicious, as usual, the great slices of thick, crusty pizza dripping with tomato sauce, cheese, pepperoni, and mushrooms.
The subs were made with a special bread recipe, brown and firm, the ham and cheese melted to perfection, the lettuce and tomato still fresh and colorful.
No one said much, as they ate hungrily, then pushed back their plates and relaxed with their drinks.
Sadie watched Anna reaching across the table for one of the last slices, her third. Then she settled back happily on the bench beside Reuben, enthusiastically sinking her teeth into the thick pizza.
Reuben wiped his mouth with a napkin, surveying his hungry sister. “Boy, Anna, you ate a pile of pizza. Must be you were really hungry.”
“I was!” Anna said, swallowing and nodding her head.
Reuben eyed her with concern. “You’re getting chunky.”
“So.”
Her answer was about as indifferent as it could be, so Reuben shrugged his shoulders and said he was going to the barn.
“Are you riding?” Sadie asked.
“No. I have to clean my rabbit pens. Dat said.”
Sadie figured she had better not persuade him to ride with her. Those rabbit pens were desperately in need of cleaning. Anna had told him that if he didn’t clean the rabbit pens more regularly, she was going to call the Humane Society to come get the rabbits, and the animal rights people would put him in jail.
Horrified at the thought of being put in handcuffs, which Anna had explained in full detail, Reuben went crying to Mam. Anna was sent to her room after that. This had all occurred when Reuben was seven or eight, and things had not changed much at all. Reuben still loathed cleaning those pens.
Sadie slipped away from the house, telling Mam she was going for a ride on Paris. Mam nodded absent-mindedly while listening to Leah recount an episode from her day.
Paris and Cody were at the lower end of the pasture, as far away as possible. Usually when Sadie called, they came trotting to the gate, but not always. Depending on their mood, they stayed where they were, tails swishing, teeth crunching as they went on grazing.
Sadie climbed up and sat on the gate.
“Paris! Cody! Come on girls! Come on!”
The slanted evening sunlight brought out the rich gold of Paris’ coat. She was the color of honey, the good, rich kind that came straight from the hives. Her mane and tail were a lighter shade of gold, almost off-white, the tone of some people’s living room walls.
Paris whinnied, her nostrils making that funny rollicking noise that sounded like laughter. Sadie watched as she swung her head, then turned to make her way delicately across the pasture. Her head bobbed slightly as she walked up to the gate, prodded on by Sadie’s gentle coaxing.
Nuzzling her skirt, Paris looked at Sadie as if to ask her how her day was.
“Hello, girl.”
Sadie slid off the gate, her arms going around her horse’s neck, and she squeezed tightly.
“Good, good girl. You’re so beautiful in the springtime, Paris, you know that? You want to go for a ride? Hmm? Let’s get some exercise, and I’ll tell you about my day.”
Paris’ ears flicked forward, then back. She lowered her head to look for an apple, sniffed Sadie’s palm, and followed her obediently into the barn and through the door of her pen. Her hooves clattered on the concrete as she went to the water trough.
Sadie lifted her saddle off the rack, then set it back down. She forgot the blanket. It was not on its usual rack, so she went to look for it in the harness cupboard. Turning the wooden latch, she checked the interior. No saddle blanket. Hmm. That was weird.
Reuben came sliding across the gravel, making the sound of screeching brakes, almost colliding into his big sister.
“Reuben, where’s my saddle blanket?”
“How would I know?”
“Nobody else uses it.”
“I didn’t use your saddle blanket. I’d never ride with a pink one, you know that.”
“It’s not pink.”
Reuben turned his head to one side, then said loudly, “Phone!”
Sadie listened, heard the insistent ringing, and dashed to the phone shanty.
The sound of a phone ringing was a bit mysterious. If somebody was fortunate enough to hear the phone in the shanty at all, that person dropped everything and ran to answer it. That’s because you never knew if the ring you heard was the first one or the tenth one, and you wanted to grab it before voicemail kicked on.
Breathlessly, Sadie lifted the receiver and said, “Hello!”
“Hey.”
There was no mistaking that low, gravelly voice. She steadied herself for the usual plummeting of her heart, and the racing pulse that followed, before saying warily, “Mark.”
“Hey, Sadie. I … should have stayed in the barn down at the ranch today instead of coming out to talk to you. I guess the sight of those children… I don’t know. I overreacted. Now you probably won’t talk to me again.”
Sadie smiled. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well … I dunno. I guess…”
There was an awkward silence, then, “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to ride. I was actually looking for my saddle blanket, which evidently sprouted legs and ran off.”
“Can you… Come over to my place?”
“I can’t.” Sadie said the words automatically, without considering whether she could or not. It was late, but…
“Why not?”
“I shouldn’t ride clear over there by myself. It’ll get dark and it might not be safe for me to ride back.”
“I’ll meet you halfway.”
Sadie bit down on her lower lip with indecision. She was dirty and unkempt from planting flowers in the sun and relentless wind, her stomach was much too full of pizza, and she had the start of a glaring red pimple on her chin.
“No.”
There was a silence, dead and cold, before an exasperated sigh finally reached her ears. “Okay.”
“Wait. Mark I don’t want to be… Well, I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Do you want me to be honest?”
She felt the humor rise in her chest and she stifled a giggle. Why not? She had already told him she loved him just this afternoon! “I ate way too much pizza with my family, and I have the start of one very large, very sore pimple on my chin.”
There was the space of one heartbeat, then a loud, rolling laugh, pure and real and completely uninhibited.
Finally, “Oh Sadie. That is why I … came back to Montana. It is. I think once we know each other better, so many things are possible.”
“I’m not coming over tonight, though,” Sadie said firmly.
“Then I’m coming over there. Right now. Would your parents disapprove?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“Give me a half hour.”
“All right.”
Sadie slammed down the receiver and raced across the driveway and into the house while an exasperated Reuben closed the door to the phone shanty, shaking his head.
It was the quickest shower Sadie had ever had, and there was no time for making serious decisions about the color or fabric of her dress, either. At least she was more presentable, she thought, as she dabbed concealing lotion on the hateful protrusion on her chin. She hastily jabbed hairpins into her hair and plopped her covering on top, spraying cologne wildly across her wrists and collar as she heard a truck approaching.
A driver! He had asked someone to bring him over!
Her sisters plied her with questions, Mam looked worried, and Reuben was yelling something about Paris from the barn. But Dat just slept in the recliner, his glasses sliding down his nose, the newspaper spread across his stomach.
Sadie opened the door and was met by Mark coming up on the porch. His hair was disheveled, and he wore a blue denim work shirt.
“Sadie!” Reuben was screeching.
“Hi, Mark. Would you mind going with me to the barn? Reuben is seriously perturbed about something.”
“Sure.”
“You forgot your horse,” Reuben said when they got to the barn.
Sadie had forgotten all about Paris. Her halter was still clipped to the chain by the water trough, and Sadie could tell she was not happy. She was throwing her head up, then back down, rattling the chain in the process.
“Sorry, Reuben.”
“Hi, Reuben,” Mark said affably. “How are you?”
Reuben was still scrubbing his rabbit pens, but he straightened his back, blew his bangs out of his eyes with an expertly protruding lower lip, and smiled. His eyes danced with mischief.
“I’m good. As soon as these rabbit pens are cleaned, I’ll be better yet.”
Mark bent to peer inside the hutches.
“Don’t you like your rabbits?”
“Not really. I’m getting too old for these guys.”
“Do you want to sell them at the livestock auction? I’ll take you. Maybe Sadie could come, too. It’s every Friday night in Critchfield. They have donkeys, horses, mules, geese, chickens. Everything.”
Reuben’s face was illuminated with excitement.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll go! I’ll sell all these rabbits and buy a donkey instead.”
Reuben laughed at the very idea, and Sadie couldn’t help but laugh with him, meeting Mark’s eyes in the dim interior of the barn.
His eyes were laughing, too, but they contained so much more. It was as if her laughter opened the floodgates of his feelings for her.
That was the danger of being with Mark, Sadie thought later. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes contained the depth of his… What was it? Did he love her at unguarded moments? Was he too shy or too proud to say what he felt? All she knew was that when the laughter had fizzled away, they were looking deeply into each other’s eyes, a sort of assurance between them.