The Darkening Dream Read Free Page A

said.
    “That public school has spoiled what your father didn’t,” Mama said.
    “So why’d you send me there?” Sarah asked.
    “They refused you at yeshiva because of your lip.”
    That stung! But then her mother’s straight face broke into a grin.
    “Seriously, Mama!” Sarah said. “Why?”
    “Seriously, Sarah! You’ll have to ask your father.”
    Sarah didn’t think she would, at least not yet.
    After finishing her fish, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her mother’s softness.
    “Sorry, and thanks for letting me go today. I owe you double the chapped hands next week,” she said.
    Mama hugged her back. “Just help me pack lunch for the three of you.”

    Sam waited on the brick sidewalk with his bay gelding behind him while he adjusted the saddle on what must be the new filly. Anne was some distance off, trotting her chestnut mare back and forth along the quiet street. Sarah still wasn’t used to Sam’s recent transformation. The lanky boy she’d known forever was now a man over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and reddish-blond stubble.
    “Good morning, Mr. Williams,” she said. “What’s the new filly’s name?” She put down her pack and approached the roan slowly, one hand extended toward its muzzle.
    “Morning, Miss Engelmann.” Sam drew the words out to mock Sarah’s formality, then grinned. “She’s Peach Melba, or just Mel if you like.”
    The filly did have the coloring of a white summer peach, a dappled reddish-pink layer of fur underneath pale white. Her spotted nostrils flared gently at Sarah’s touch, but she seemed docile enough when stroked on the velvety soft nose.
    “I like her; she’s beautiful,” Sarah said, looking up.
    “When I saw her at the fair, I thought of you.”
    Papa’s comments about marriage ricocheted back into her mind. How was attraction supposed to feel? She’d never given the whole business much thought, which was odd, given her penchant for overthinking. Sam was clearly not “the second brightest young scholar in New England,” but he was sweet — and handsome. For a second, she allowed herself to imagine being kissed. But the phantom kisser in her mind didn’t look like Sam. Or anybody else she knew.
    “Anyway,” he added, “we wouldn’t have much of a ride if you didn’t have a horse.”
    “Papa thinks they’re too much bother,” she said. “But he’s been leering at those brochures from the Ford Motor Company. Oil, steel, and belching smoke are more to his liking than manure.”
    Anne stopped prancing and maneuvered her horse to join them.
    “Sam, get that pack on the horses. Nothing fun’s going to happen here on the street five minutes from our house.”
    Sam snapped to attention, “Yes, ma’am!”

    Since Salem’s 48,000 or so souls were mostly packed inside a dense urban core, it didn’t take Sarah and her friends long to leave the houses and factories and reach the surrounding rural neighborhoods.
    “I was riding this way the other week,” Sam said, “and I noticed a big meadow with a pond and southern exposure — perfect for a picnic.”
    He led them past a low farmer’s wall and across a grassy stretch to an unpaved lane. An eight-foot hedge blocked out most of the view to the left. As they rode by, the morning quiet was shattered by a loud crack followed almost immediately by a metal ping. A small flock of geese took noisily to wing from behind the hedge and climbed diagonally into the sky.
    Mel gave out a whinny as Sarah came to a sudden stop behind Sam’s horse.
    “Rifle shot,” Sam said. Sarah caught the faint scent of gunpowder.
    Anne smirked. “And I thought breakfast just wasn’t agreeing with you.”
    Sam threw his sister a dirty look. He held out one palm toward the two girls, leaned forward to whisper something to his horse, then slid off. He really did have a way with animals. Sarah spoke six languages, but Horse wasn’t one of them.
    Twenty feet in front of them, the hedge was