Hidden Truths (46 page)

BOOK: Hidden Truths
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A tear spilled over and rolled down Mama's cheek. It pooled
in the corner of her mouth.

Those tears hurt more than Amy's own. "Mama." Her
voice trembled. "Mama, please don't cry." She never wanted to make
her parents sad. "Don't cry. I promise I'll do my best to get over these
improper feelings."

Trembling, she searched for a glimpse of hope in Mama's
eyes.

"No, Amy. That's not what I want you to do." Mama
slipped off her gloves and dried Amy's face with her bare hands. She cradled it
between warm palms. "I'm not crying because you hurt me. I'm hurting for
you. I know you won't have it easy in life, but these feelings are a part of
you. They won't just go away."

How could Mama be so sure? "Maybe they will."

"Yes, maybe," Mama said. "You're still young.
When I was young, I had no idea about love. I thought I had, but I didn't
really know what I needed in my life to make me happy. I only found out when I met
Luke."

"Maybe I'll meet a man like Papa too." Even Amy
felt that the words were empty, without emotion or belief. Every day she spent
with Rika, every night they shared her room and bed proved that her feelings
toward women — toward Rika — weren't going away. If anything, they were getting
stronger.

"Maybe," Mama said again. "But if the person
you meet ends up being a woman, I want you to know I won't love you any
less."

Amy stared. Mama had always understood her and supported
her, no matter what, but never in a million years had Amy thought Mama would
accept her unnatural feelings for women.
But she does.
The light of love
and acceptance burned brightly in Mama's eyes.

"Come here." Mama engulfed her in a tight embrace.

A trembling sigh escaped Amy, and she bent her head to rest
it against Mama's shoulder. She breathed in the comforting scent — apples and
cinnamon, as if she had just taken a pie for Papa out of the oven. "Oh,
Mama."

"It's all right." Mama turned her head and kissed
Amy's cheek, then pulled back to look into her eyes. "Promise me one
thing."

"Anything." Whatever it was, Amy knew she would do
anything to make sure Mama would never look at her with disappointment.

"Promise me you'll try not to think less of yourself
for following your heart instead of what other people think is right."

The ball of tension that had knotted Amy's stomach for years
dissolved into tears. She hastily wiped her eyes "I'll try," she
said, voice rough with tears and emotions.

"Good." Mama's smile was full of concern, but Amy
saw none of the despair she expected.

She's at peace with this,
Amy realized. It was almost
as if Mama had suspected all along and had come to terms with it. The thought
made Amy blanch.
Did she know about my infatuation with Hannah? Does she
know about Rika?
She struggled to form words. "How did you know?"

"Know?"

"Have you known about... me for a while or —"

"Oh, no, sweetie." The ribbon of her bonnet came
loose when Mama shook her head. "I would have talked to you much sooner
had I known. I would never let you suffer in silence." Tears shone in
Mama's eyes. "I didn't know, Amy, but I understand how you feel."

"How could you understand?" Mama was so in love
with Papa, even after all those years, that it was sometimes almost
embarrassing to watch.

Mama retied her bonnet. Her hands trembled, but her gaze was
steady. "I've come to think that the love Tess and Frankie share isn't all
that different from the love between Bernice and Jacob or Hannah and
Josh."

"Not different?" That couldn't be true. Amy had
felt different all her life.

"Well, maybe it is different, but it's not less worthy
or less true."

The conviction in Mama's voice soothed Amy's fears. Her
biggest fear remained, though. "What will Papa think?"

A wistful smile crept onto Mama's face. "He'll
worry."

Amy sniffled.

"Hey." Mama tipped up her chin. "Your father
will worry because he loves you, not because he thinks there's anything wrong
with you. It'll just take some getting used to. Maybe we should have seen this
coming, but we didn't. Except for Hannah, you never even had any close female
friends."

Amy lowered her head. "I tried to stay away, tried to
ignore it, but..." Staying away from Rika proved impossible. Then she
remembered her promise and lifted her head. Mama didn't want her to feel bad
about herself, but that was easier said than done.

"Oh, dear Lord!" Mama slapped her forehead and
covered her eyes with one hand. She peeked through her fingers. "And I
made you share a bed with Hendrika! I'm so sorry. Was that terribly awkward for
you?"

Mama's sheepish expression made Amy smile. "It's all
right."

"As soon as we get home, I'll ask her to change rooms
with Nattie and —"

"No," Amy said, a bit too quickly. "I mean...
she's my friend, and we managed just fine so far." Soon, Phin would be home,
and he would take away Rika forever. She wasn't ready to give up Rika's
company.

Mama seemed to ponder that for a moment. "All right.
It's getting late, and I should get started on supper. Should we head back, or
do you want some time to yourself, sweetie?"

She knows me so well.
Grateful, Amy nodded. "I
need some time." She felt vulnerable, as if all her defenses were stripped
away and everyone looking could see into her heart, her very soul. She couldn't
imagine sitting down to supper with her family, Rika, and the ranch hands. Not
while she felt like this. "I'll ride down to the river and let Ruby graze
for a while."

"Don't stay out as long this time. It's all right if
you don't want to talk right now. Just please don't shut us out."

Amy nodded, overwhelmed with emotions — hers and Mama's.

The scent of apples engulfed her when Mama pulled her into a
quick embrace. "Be careful," she whispered into Amy's ear. "I
love you."

The inside of Amy's nose burned. She sniffled. "I love
you too, Mama."

Still trembling, she climbed into the saddle. For once, she
didn't start with a walk, then a jog or a lope to warm up Ruby's muscles. One
squeeze of her legs and Ruby sprang into a gallop. They raced down the hill as
if trying to outrun her chaotic thoughts.

Molalla River, Oregon
June 22, 1868

D
ANCER'S
HOOVES pounded over the bridge across the Molalla River. Luke's heart thudded
along with the fast beat.
Home, home, home,
her heart sang with every
step. She let her gaze slide over the hills and trees of her land.

In front of them, a horse lifted its nose from the grass and
whinnied a greeting.

Luke lifted herself up in her stirrups to catch a glimpse of
the rider, who had dismounted.

A familiar hat dangled down the rider's back, and the
setting sun made her hair gleam like copper.

"Amy!"

At her shout, Amy whirled around. "Papa!"

The rope between Dancer and Angel, the Percheron mare,
tightened as Luke urged her gelding into an all-out gallop. As soon as Dancer
slid to a stop, Luke swung out of the saddle.

For once, Amy had no glance for the new horse. She rushed
over and fell into Luke's arms. Her body trembled against Luke.

Luke tightened her embrace. "Hey. Everything all
right?"

Amy nodded, her face buried in Luke's shoulder.

Something's not right.
Luke sensed it. Something had
happened while she was gone. "What happened?" She combed her fingers
through Amy's hair. It had soothed Amy as a child — and it soothed Luke too.
She let herself imagine that she could protect her daughter from whatever had
upset her. Finally, she moved back a few inches and slid her worried gaze over
Amy. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Amy shook her head.

What, then? Normally, Amy would pepper her with questions
about the trip and fawn over the new horse. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Fear trembled deep inside of her. "Is your mother all right? And
Nattie?"

"Yes, yes, they are all right. Everything's fine."
Amy rubbed gloved hands over her cheeks.

Luke stared. Has she been crying?

"I'm sorry," Amy said. "I didn't want to
upset you. I'm just so glad you're home."

"And Johanna?" Phin asked from behind Luke.
"She all right too?"

"Johanna?" Amy's red-rimmed eyes focused on him.

"My betrothed. She's still at the ranch, ain't she? You
didn't scare her off?"

Instead of answering Phin's teasing with a grin, Amy's lips
formed a tight line. "Rika's still there."

"Rika?"

"Hendrika," Amy said. "She goes by her middle
name."

Luke shook her head. She didn't want to talk about Phin's
bride. She wanted to know what had put that desperate expression into Amy's
eyes. "Come on. Let's go home." Maybe Nora knew what was going on
with their daughter.

*  *  *

"What the hell happened?" Luke reined in Dancer
and stared down at the blackened earth where her horse barn had once stood.

"It's not that bad," Amy said, face still pale.
"No one got hurt, and we have a new barn already. See?"

The door to the main house banged open.

Luke let out a breath.
Nora.
She knew it before she
swung down from the saddle and looked across the ranch yard. With the horse
between them, she drank in the sight of Nora.

Even with a stained apron, a streak of flour across her
cheek, and tousled hair, Nora was the most beautiful thing she had seen in two
months.

Nora's lips formed a silent word, and Luke knew what it was.
Her name.

She dropped the reins and crossed the ranch yard in long
strides.

Nora met her at the bottom step of the veranda.

They fell into an embrace, and Luke's eyes fluttered shut
when she breathed in the familiar scent. "Apple pie," she whispered.
She inhaled twice more, then asked, "What happened to the barn? And what's
going on with Amy?"

"I'll explain later," Nora said. "When we're
alone." Her lips sought Luke's.

Heat exploded in Luke's belly. She forgot about the barn,
the tired horses, and the ranch hands, who by now were standing around,
watching them. Nothing else mattered, just Nora.

*  *  *

Rika scooped coffee and crushed eggshells into a large pot
and set it on the stove. Coffee was the first thing the ranch hands would ask
for when they came in from the range. The ranch hands and Amy, who still hadn't
returned after riding out with her mother.

"Where did your mother go?" she asked Nattie.
"Is that Amy outside?"

"Probably. I'm not sure what's going on, but Mama seems
worried about her." Nattie set the last tin cup on the table, walked to
the window, and peeked at the riders in the ranch yard. "Oh! It's Papa!
And Phin!" She ran outside.

Phineas. He's back.
Rika wanted to run too, but in
the opposite direction. She had dreaded this moment for the last two months.
Slowly, careful not to stumble on unsteady feet, she trudged to the window. She
couldn't help taking a peek at the man who would soon be her husband.

The first thing she saw was a man kissing Nora on the bottom
step of the veranda. She blinked at the unusual display of passion right there
for all to see.

From the distance, Amy's father didn't look like Amy at all.
While Amy's hair gleamed like fire and sunlight, his was midnight dark. Nattie,
who now fell into her father's arms, looked more like him while Amy resembled
her mother.

Rika directed her gaze away from Nattie, Nora, and her
husband, giving them some privacy. Relief trickled through her when she
detected Amy talking to two dust-covered men. There she was, safe and sound.

Then Rika remembered that one of the men had to be her
future husband. Tension returned to her body. She studied the two strangers.
One stood eye to eye with Amy, too small to be Phineas, who described himself
as six feet tall in his letters.

Her heart pounding, she took in the taller man.

With his blond hair, he looked a bit like the painting of
her grandfather. His laughter boomed across the ranch yard as he laughed at
something Amy said. He seemed friendly, and the tension in Rika's muscles
receded — until he slipped his muscular arm around Amy's shoulder.

Such liberties!
Rika pressed her fists to her hips.
Watching Amy and Phineas together made her want to rush out and pull them
apart. Was there more to his feelings for Amy than friendship? Was that why he
had stayed for so long instead of starting his own ranch sooner? The thought
twisted her insides with an emotion that could only be jealousy.
Oh, come
on, Hendrika Aaldenberg. What do you have to be jealous of? He's not even your
husband yet.

He cared for Amy; that much was clear. Nattie had repeatedly
told her that Phineas was a good man. If she married him, maybe their union
would develop into one of mutual friendship and respect, if not love.

The thought didn't hold much joy even if it was what she had
hoped for when she came west.

The group started for the main house. She watched them
approach, laughing, touching, reconnecting. Would she ever belong to a family
like this? Her heart trembled.

Amy looped her arm through Phineas's. They looked like a
courting couple.

Rika shoved her fists into her apron pocket. She realized
she wasn't glaring at Amy. Her gaze was fixed on Phineas's hand covering Amy's
fingers.
What kind of nonsense is this?
Since Tess had revealed that she
and Frankie were sweethearts, Rika found her thoughts heading down strange paths.

The door swung open.

Mr. Hamilton was the first one in. He stood with his hat in
his hands. His dusty clothes and crooked nose made him look like a ranch hand,
but his stance and his self-assured movements told her he was the boss — not in
her father's loud, sometimes violent way, though. The ranch hands who followed
him in looked at him with respect, not with fear. Deep lines around his eyes
indicated that he liked to laugh. He was grinning now, glowing with the
happiness of being home. His arm was still wrapped around Nora as if he would
never let go again.

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