Free Disappearances by Linda Byler Page A

her hair combed neatly, running to and from the windows on the second floor.
    When she saw the black van, she knew it was George Gilbert’s. She went down a short flight of stairs as fast as the brace on her foot would allow, then stood rooted to the carpeting, gripping the back of the sofa, until her knuckles turned white. Mark walked up to the glass door. With a cry, she flung herself into his arms, oblivious of anyone or anything around her. They clung to each other, the amazing, unbelievable joy of being alive, safe, and having come through this together, restoring their emptiness, their hopelessness.
    Dat stood back, his hands in his pockets, shy, ill at ease, as everyone held Sadie in their arms, crying, laughing, then crying again. Sadie saw him then. “Dat!”
    There was no self-consciousness. It was not customary, but she needed to feel her father’s arms around her to make her homecoming complete. She put her arms around him. He clutched her tightly to his denim-clad chest, his gray beard caressing her forehead, his tears anointing her head.
    Her parents had aged and had both lost weight. Reuben looked terrible, but he said it was because he had been up all night watching TV and drinking that sick coffee and eating disgusting cheese crackers. He shook his hair into his eyes so no one would see the tears. He was too old and cool to be caught crying over a crazy sister.
    They sat in the lobby, listening quietly as Sadie related her story from start to finish. Mark got them all rooms, and the driver, too, so he would get a solid day of sleep before the long drive home. Mam and Dat welcomed a long-awaited rest, along with the joy of having seen their beloved daughter again.
    For Mark and Sadie, it was very nearly heaven on earth.

Chapter 6

    I T WAS ALL OVER the news, on every television station and in every newspaper. Richard Caldwell informed them: the horse thieves were caught. The whole ring of them would finally be brought to justice.
    They had been extremely intelligent at first, but as the band of thieves grew, so did their lack of security and loopholes of leaking facts. When they abducted Sadie, it was the beginning of the end.
    Reporters requested interviews with Sadie, but they were all turned down, as was the way of the Amish. No one could appear on TV, so there were no on-camera interviews, although she spoke to many other people about her experience.
    The government agents returned Paris to her golden glory. Sadie laughed to Mark about how they could tell Paris was pouting, standing in her stall batting her eyelashes, a haughty princess who believed a great wrong had been brought on her head.
    Sadie bathed her and brushed her. Then Sadie bundled up in numerous layers of warm winter clothing and rode the horse across the snowy fields. The wind froze Sadie’s face as tears welled in her eyes. Paris ran, kicked her heels joyfully, lifted her head and whinnied high and clear, the sound borne away on the freezing wind. Sadie leaned into her neck, reveled in the motion beneath her, that quivering mass of muscle and speed, understanding the gift of freedom as never before.
    Mark rode with her sometimes on Duke, the new gray gelding he purchased from Sam Troyer. Duke was a magnificent animal, a bit raw around the edges, perhaps, but with careful training, he would improve. Sadie winced, however, when Mark began using the quirt. How she hated that evil-looking little whip! It only served to increase Duke’s nervousness, being a bundle of alarm waiting to implode as it was. Mark was short on patience. He was too quick to use that hateful quirt, as Sadie explained to him, gently trying to keep from deflating his always fragile ego.
    The thing was, life was so good, and, like a delicate egg, she carried their relationship with care. The specter of his dark moods served to put a hand over her mouth, an ear attuned to his derisive snorts of annoyance. It was one of his quirks, this tumble into darkness where he