Hidden Truths (52 page)

BOOK: Hidden Truths
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"You think it could be love?" Nora asked.
"Amy is so inexperienced when it comes to love..."

"Just as inexperienced as I was when I met you."
Luke settled her hand on the curve of Nora's hip.

"If you are right, Amy will be heartbroken once
Hendrika marries Phin," Nora said. "Do you think Hendrika might have
feelings for Amy too?"

Luke paused their swaying for a moment to think before she
answered. "I'm not sure, but I think there could be something there.
Something that could grow into love, like it did for us. But nothing will ever
come of it. Amy is so afraid. She'll never tell Hendrika how she feels."

"Would you want her to?" Nora asked.
"Hendrika is Phin's betrothed after all."

Luke clutched Nora tighter to her body. "I don't know.
It's all a mess, and I don't want to see Phin hurt either. But I can't help
thinking that maybe Amy needs to take the kind of risk that I did, or she'll
forever regret it. What if Hendrika turns out to be her Nora, and she lets her
go?"

Nora freed herself from Luke's embrace and turned. She
clutched the ropes and leaned across the swing. Her lips found Luke's, and for
the length of one passionate kiss, Luke forgot their conversation.

Then Nora drew back and breathed deeply. "And under
different circumstances maybe Amy would turn out to be Hendrika's Luke, but Amy
isn't ready," she said. "She might one day come to accept her
feelings, but not now."

"But Hendrika won't be there one day," Luke said.
The swing's rope bit into Luke's hands when she clutched it. Her heartbeat
spiked until she thought she might faint. She struggled to draw air into her
lungs and clutched Nora's hand against her pounding heart. "No more
waiting. We need to tell the girls the truth about me."

Hamilton Horse Ranch
Baker Prairie, Oregon
June 26, 1868

W
HEN
RIKA REACHED the edge of the carrot patch, she pulled out a handful of
dandelions and threw it into a bucket that was already filled with horsetail,
wild clover, and other weeds. Groaning, she straightened and brushed earth off
her skirt.

Nattie carried over her own bucket of weeds. "All done.
Finally." She plucked a bean leaf from Rika's sleeve.

They emptied their buckets onto the manure heap, and Nattie
pulled up a bucket of cool water from the well.

Rika drank deeply, enjoying the coldness of the water as it
slid down her parched throat. She looked around for Amy, who might be in need
of some water too.

"I'll take some water over to Phin," Nattie said.

Rika flushed.
For heaven's sake, Hendrika Aaldenberg!
You're supposed to think of your future husband's needs, not Amy's.
"Let me."

Shrugging, Nattie handed over the water bucket.

Bucket in hand, Rika walked over to the corral, where
Phineas was cleaning the hooves of a horse. "I brought you some
water."

"Thanks." He took the bucket from her, picked up
the ladle, and drank. After setting down the bucket, he gestured toward her
face. "You've got some dirt on your face."

Rika rubbed her knuckles across her cheek. "Gone?"

"Um, no. Wait." He opened the saddlebags hanging
over the corral rail. "Here. I bought this for you in Fort Boise but then
hesitated to give it to you." He held out a handkerchief with lacy edges
and the initials J. S. stitched in one corner.

Rika curled her fingers around the handkerchief and trailed
her thumb over the initials.
Johanna Sharpe.
Phin's last name sounded as
wrong as the first name.

"When I bought it, I didn't know you're going by
Hendrika."

"It's all right. It was very kind of you to think of
me."

Phineas took the handkerchief from her, dipped it into the
water bucket, and rubbed it over Rika's cheek, wiping away the speck of dirt.
"There."

"Thank you." When Rika stepped back, she noticed
Nattie on the veranda, watching them with flushed cheeks.

Before Rika could get a good look at her, Nattie hurried
inside.

Phineas handed back the handkerchief. A hesitant smile
spread across the lower half of his face, which was freshly shaven and paler
than the rest of his face. His smile warmed the ice-blue color of his eyes.
"Who knows, maybe one day, we'll have a daughter whose name starts with J.
Then you could give her the handkerchief."

Daughter.
The thought of having children with him
hadn't crossed Rika's mind.
You're being silly. He'll be your husband soon.
Of course he wants children.
"Maybe." She stuffed the
handkerchief into her sleeve. "Thank you, Phineas."

"Call me Phin." He reached for her hand and rested
it in the crook of his elbow, then set them off for a stroll along the corrals.
"If you call me Phineas, I feel like my father is standing behind
me."

"And that wouldn't be a good thing?" Rika already
sensed the answer.

"No. My father was a real bastard." He blanched.
"Um. Pardon my language."

Rika smiled. Why did men always think women would faint at
the mere mention of a cuss word? "My father was a real bastard too."

The jangle of Phin's spurs stopped midstride. He paused to
stare at her, then laughed.

"Nattie said you have worked for the Hamiltons for ten
years?" Rika asked.

"Ran away from home as soon as I knew one end of a
revolver from the other," Phin said. The muscles under Rika's fingers
tensed, then softened. "The Hamiltons took me in. They're like family to
me."

They were starting to be like family for Rika too.
"Aren't you gonna miss them?" Since Phin had arrived, she woke up
every day afraid that Phin would show up with the pastor and this would be her
last day at the ranch.

His gaze drifted to the main house. "Yeah. I
will."

"Then can't we stay?" She clamped her fingers
around a handful of her skirt and held her breath.

Instead of looking at her, he still gazed at the main house.
"No. I need to leave."

Rika had rarely cried in her life. Not when her father had
broken her arm and not when Jo had died. Now tears stung her eyes.

"We'll still see the Hamiltons in church on Sundays,
but I can't be their foreman forever," Phin said. "I stayed longer
than I should have already. One day, another man is gonna be the boss, and
there won't be a place here for me."

Another man? Is he talking about Amy getting married?
The thought stabbed Rika in the pit of her stomach.

"I asked the pastor to come over later today to talk
about the wedding," Phin said. "He said he can get us married on
Monday."

"Oh." Rika had expected it, but still... In three
days, she would be a married woman and on her way to a new home, away from Amy
and the Hamiltons.

Phin tilted his head. "Is Monday not good? If you'd
rather wait a few more days..."

"Oh, no. It's... it's fine." If she hesitated too
long, Phin would find another bride. He seemed determined to start a new life.

He squeezed her fingers that still rested on his arm.
"I know we don't know each other well, but if we don't get married soon,
people will start waggin' their tongues."

How would Jo have reacted to his businesslike tone? Rika got
the feeling that he wasn't any more eager to get married than she was. "Of
course," she said.

"Hey." Phin's voice was overly cheerful as if he
was trying to make her feel better — or maybe himself. "Wanna learn how to
brush down a horse? Lancelot is a sucker for a beautiful woman with a
brush."

His grin was kind and charming, but his eyes said something
else. He didn't look at her with love or deep admiration.

Not that Rika had expected it.

"Lancelot?" she asked.

Phin pointed at the dotted horse that was tied to the corral
rail. "Nattie named him, and now he thinks he deserves to be treated like
a real knight."

Rika already knew how to brush down a horse. Amy had taught
her weeks ago, but she didn't want to disappoint Phin, so she nodded.

"Great." Phin slipped out from under Rika's hand.
"Wait here. I'll get the brush."

She leaned against the sun-warmed corral rails, closed her
eyes, and drank in the sounds of the ranch. Soft neighs, the patter of hooves,
and sounds of horses plucking on clumps of grass drifted over. Hens clucked and
fluttered. Behind the woodshed, an ax sang as it dug into the chopping block,
and then the split logs clattered to the ground.

The low rumble of John's voice came from the paddock, and a
woman's calm tones answered him.

Amy.

Rika opened her eyes and peered at the paddock.

One booted foot propped on the bottom rail, Amy stood and
watched the horses. She pointed out one horse to John, who nodded. They ducked
between the rails and climbed into the paddock.

"Here we are."

At Phin's sudden voice next to her, Rika whirled around.

"Here." Phin handed her a brush. "Try it.
Start on his left side."

Rika slid her left hand down the gelding's neck, letting him
know she was there. His familiar horse smell engulfed her, and the rhythmic
stroking soothed both of them. She listened to the voices from the paddock
while she worked.

"Put some muscle into it," Phin said. "Don't
be afraid. You won't hurt him."

When Amy had taught her how to brush down a horse, she said
the same.

Phin stepped closer and covered Rika's hand with his to show
her how to brush. Amy had done the same, but her warm, slender body felt
different against Rika's back than Phin's. The curve of his biceps rested
against her arm, and his muscular chest brushed against her shoulder blades.
For a moment, an image of what it would be like to share the marriage bed with
him flashed through Rika's mind.

It felt all wrong.

His bay rum scent didn't set her blood afire.

Don't be silly.
She knew all along she wouldn't marry
him for love or passion. Nothing had changed, yet Rika felt different somehow.
"Can you take over?" She let go of the brush and stepped to the side,
away from him.

"You all right?" Phin asked, pausing the brush
against Lancelot's neck. "You're not afraid of him, are you?"

No, she wasn't afraid. At least not of the horse. Thinking
about the future made her shiver, though. She felt as her mother might have on
her way to America — adrift at sea, with no past to return to and a future she
wasn't sure she wanted. "No, of course not. I'm fine." She moved away
another step, her gaze returning to the paddock to see if Amy was still there.

"Watch out!"

A bucket clattered on its side. Water drenched Rika's skirt,
and she jumped back. Her foot slipped on the wet grass. Rika fell.

Her shoulder smashed against a corral post. A loud pop rang
through her ears. Pain exploded. Someone cried out.

Rika's vision dimmed, and she fought to stay conscious. She
realized she was lying on the ground.

"Hendrika!" Phin dropped to his knees next to her.
"Hendrika, are you all right?"

"Rika!" Amy's voice from behind.

Rika groaned. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes, but
Amy's voice enticed her to answer. "Yes."

Hands touched her, trying to help her up. A new wave of pain
stabbed her shoulder and raced down her arm. "Don't." She breathed
through clenched teeth. "Don't touch me." Clutching her arm, she
rolled around.

The large hands retreated, and then Amy was there. Her
fingertips trembled against Rika's cheek. "What happened?"

"Think I threw out my shoulder," Rika said, then
clamped her mouth shut. Nausea pulsed through her, and the pain in her shoulder
made her light-headed.

"How could you let this happen?" Amy stared at
Phin, hands fisted so tightly that her knuckles looked like jagged mountain
peaks.

Phin, his face pale, held out his palms. '"I didn't
know she hadn't seen the bucket."

"Stop it," Rika whispered. "No use arguing
now." Her voice trembled despite her effort to keep it even. She clutched
her arm, which hung motionless, and sat up.

"Let me see." Amy's shaking fingers slid up her
arm.

"Want me to fetch the doc from town?" Phin asked.

Rika shook her head, then stopped when a new wave of pain
shot down her arm. "No." They needed to pop the shoulder back in
right away. The muscles were already stiffening up. The longer they waited, the
more painful it became. Her gaze searched Amy's through a haze of pain.
"If I tell you how, can you do this?"

The color drained from Amy's cheeks. "I helped put
Toby's shoulder back in once, but I don't know if I can do it with you. I don't
want to hurt you."

"Sure you can do it." Pain raged through her
shoulder. She knew it would stop as soon as the shoulder popped back into its
socket.

Amy's shoulders lifted as she inhaled deeply. "All
right. Phin, help me get her to the house." Her arm, warm and steady,
slung around Rika's waist while Phin reached for her uninjured arm.

Trembling, Rika got to her feet. Pain pulsed through her
with every step she took.

"Want me to carry you?" Phin asked.

Rika shook her head. She couldn't speak. It took all her
concentration just to breathe without screaming.

Amy swung back the front door and held it open. The door was
too narrow for the three of them to enter side by side. One of them would have
to let go of Rika.

Over Rika's head, Amy and Phin exchanged a long glance.

Phin let go, and Amy helped Rika inside. "We should do
this down here and spare you the stairs." Amy directed her to the divan.

When Rika sat and jostled her shoulder, a groan erupted from
her throat. Finally, the dark spots stopped dancing before her eyes, and she
looked into Phin's and Amy's tense faces.

"Want me to boil some water?" Phin bobbed up and
down on his toes.

"We don't need hot water," Amy said, scowling at
him. "She's not giving birth. She popped out her shoulder."

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