Free Wild Horses by Linda Byler

and sincerity—no reason for her to doubt what Mam saw.
    “Wow, Mam! Weren’t you afraid?”
    “I turned back,” she said with a soft laugh.
    Sadie hesitated, then dove headfirst into the unknown waters, realizing the danger but hurtling in nevertheless.
    “Mam, why are your thoughts so crammed together? Is there anything anyone could do to help sort them out? Would you like to talk about it?”
    “No.”
    “But, Mam, we… Leah and I…
    There she was, diving deeper, lungs straining, desperately needing strength to accomplish this tiny, if not insignificant, step toward finding out how Mam felt.
    “Leah and I are worried.”
    “I’m fine.”
    “She’s fine. You and Leah keep to yourselves. Mam is fine.”
    Sadie bowed her head, rose to the surface, gulped air, and came up with absolutely nothing. She nodded. Mission not accomplished.
    “Well,” she said, falsely cheerful, “Jim will soon be here.”
    Mam got up and went to the corner cabinet to begin taking down her countless bottles of ginseng, St. John’s Wort, brewer’s yeast, Lifespan supplements, and liquid Body Balance—her usual morning ritual of bolstering her faith with those hopeful little bottles.
    Sadie turned away, wanting to flee.
    Hurry up, Jim.
    Down at the ranch, things were normal. Dorothy bustled about, shaking her head at the pools of water gathered on her spotless kitchen floor. Why couldn’t the men have enough common sense to dry their feet when they came barreling inside?
    Sadie had barely hung her coat on the hook before the kitchen door swung open and Richard Caldwell entered, thumping his hat against his legs.
    “Sadie!” he thundered.
    Please help me, God.
    She finished hanging her scarf over her coat collar, fought to calm herself properly, then smoothed her apron over her hips and turned to face him.
    “Yes?”
    “Somebody told me you want that horse they brought in yesterday.”
    “The…the dying one?”
    “They didn’t bring in any other one.”
    “Is he still breathing?” Sadie clasped her hands, her eyes shining, her feet refusing to stay on the floor as she stood on her tiptoes.
    “I really don’t know. But if you want him, you’ll have to take him out of here.”
    “But…I don’t know if my father will allow it. I’m sure there will be medical, I mean, veterinary bills to pay, and my…father doesn’t like horses much.”
    Why did Richard Caldwell always do this to her? Why did she stumble over words and flounder about like a half-dead fish and say stupid things that made no sense at all when he was around?
    “Well, if you want that horse, it’s yours. I don’t want him. I have no idea where he came from, and I sure don’t want to become involved. That old Fred Skinner has a way with words, or he wouldn’t have dumped that horse off in my stables.”
    Sadie bounced a bit, her eyes still shining bright blue.
    “That’s very nice of you, Mr. Caldwell. And I do thank you. I just need to get permission from my father.”
    “Come with me and we’ll go see the horse.”
    Sadie fairly danced over to the hook to get her coat, trying to conceal the excitement that kept bubbling over.
    Dorothy confronted her then, like a ruffled, banty hen, her eyes flashing, hands on hips.
    “And just where do you think you’re prancing off to with all this breakfast to be done, young lady?”
    Richard Caldwell’s booming laugh rolled across the kitchen, bringing a giggle to Sadie’s throat, which she suppressed just in time when she saw how upset Dorothy became. Her eyes popped some serious sparks as she turned and wagged a short finger beneath Richard Caldwell’s face.
    “Now don’t you laugh, Richard Caldwell. It’s not funny. I ain’t young anymore. I got all these hands to feed and yer gonna go gallivanting all over creation with my best help. I ain’t puttin’ up with it!”
    Sadie knew no one ever spoke to Richard Caldwell like that, except feisty little Dorothy. Sadie hid a wide grin, then ducked her