Hidden Trusts

by Jae

  The question stunned Luke. No one had ever asked her that. "Yes," she said. "I'm happier than I ever thought I deserved to be. I share my life with the woman I love, and I have two wonderful daughters. What more could I want?" The truth of her words warmed her body.

  Tess smiled and reached across the table to squeeze Luke's hand. "Then I'm glad. I can't wait to see Nora again and to meet your daughters."

  Luke's only regret was that she wouldn't be home for most of Tess's visit. She would have loved to witness Nora's joy at seeing her old friend, and she was curious to see what Nora made of Frankie. But at least Tess could tell Nora and the girls that she had made it safely so far. After she had sent back Kit with the injured gelding, Nora was probably worried about her making the rest of the trip with just two men. "When you get to the ranch, please let Nora know I'm fine."

  "Is she worried?"

  "She pretends not to be, but I know her better than that."

  Concern clouded Tess's eyes too. "And she is right to worry, isn't she? Frankie said with the government trying to relocate the local tribes, the road to Fort Boise could be dangerous."

  Luke shook her head. "Mostly it's just a few scattered bands, not whole tribes going on the warpath. We made it safely so far, and I'm sure we'll be fine. Once we've delivered the herd, we'll be able to make better time on the way back. I'm more worried about what's going on at the ranch."

  While she hadn't wanted to admit it to Phin, confessing her fears to Tess still felt right after all those years.

  Golden brows lifted. "Is there trouble at the ranch?"

  "Nora says I'm just being a mother hen, but running a ranch is a lot of responsibility. A thousand things can go wrong." Luke knew firsthand. Her first year of running the ranch had been hard.

  "A mother hen?" Tess chuckled. "Luke, remember that Nora was a successful businesswoman long before you met her."

  Any reminder of Nora's past in the brothel stirred anger deep in Luke's belly. "I'm not talking about Nora. Nora is there to give advice, but Amy is running the ranch while I'm away."

  "Little Amy?" Tess grinned. Her gaze seemed to reach into the past, remembering the little girl she had known.

  Luke laughed. "Oh, you better not say that to her face. She's not so little anymore." It was hard for her to accept, but she knew her daughters were almost grown women now.

  "So Amy is no longer sneaking out of the house to bring apples to the horses?" Tess asked with an affectionate grin.

  Amy's attempt to visit the horses in Independence's livery stable was how Luke had first met Amy. It seemed almost unreal to Luke now. She could barely remember a time without Nora and the girls in her life. "Oh, I wouldn't say that." A few times, she had found Amy in the stable, visiting the horses in the middle of the night. She had a feeling Amy confessed her thoughts and fears to the horses just as Luke had done before she had met Nora.

  "There's that expression again." Tess pointed at Luke's face.

  "What expression?"

  "I think it's the mother hen expression."

  When Luke carefully schooled her features, Tess laughed.

  "I don't have a mother hen expression," Luke said. "If anything, it's a rooster expression."

  "Oh, don't bother. I like that expression on you. And I promise to check on your chicks."

  "And on the mama hen, please," Luke said.

  Tess smiled. "Her too, of course."

  Hamilton Horse Ranch

  Baker Prairie, Oregon

  May 4, 1868

  THE SMELL OF HORSES, leather, and freshly sawed wood filled Rika's nose when she rolled the wheelbarrow down the new barn's center aisle. Straw tickled her neck, and she tried to get rid of it by lifting her shoulder and turning her head back and forth against it.

  The wheelbarrow started to topple over, but Rika had learned not to load it up too high and easily rebalanced it. She stopped in front of the open barn door to catch her breath.

  Outside, Nattie was taking care of Zebra, the mare whose leg had been injured in the fire, but Rika's gaze was drawn to the other side of the ranch yard.

  Amy had the gray mare called Mouse tied to the corral rail and slid her hands down the mare's leg. Her shoulder leaned against the horse until Mouse shifted her weight.

  What's she doing? Rika tried to understand what Amy was saying to the horse, but her voice was too low. She craned her neck and circled the wheelbarrow to catch a glimpse of Amy's hands. Is she squeezing Mouse's foot?

  After a few seconds, Mouse lifted her foot off the ground. Amy took hold of the foot and cradled it for a moment before she set it down. She straightened and rubbed Mouse's shoulder, then moved to the next foot.

  Rika had thought training horses meant riding them, but Amy spent a lot of time working with Mouse on the ground. Despite her lack of patience with Rika's earlier mistakes, Amy never got frustrated with the horses. She handled them in a calm, but confident way that made Rika stop and watch every time she crossed the ranch yard.

  I think she's teaching Mouse to hold still while someone puts new shoes on her.

  At the other end of the ranch yard, Amy circled the mare and started the same procedure on the other side. When Mouse obediently lifted her hoof and let Amy hold it, Amy looked up. Her eyes widened when she noticed that she had an audience.

  Caught, Rika lingered in the barn's doorway and gave a wave.

  Instead of letting go of Mouse's foot, Amy stood frozen.

  Mouse struggled against her grip. Her head whipped around. Big teeth flashed.

  "Hey!" Amy jumped back.

  Oh, Lord, no! Rika squeezed past the wheelbarrow and hurried across the ranch yard. At the last moment, she remembered to slow down before she reached Mouse and Amy. No running around horses. They scare easily. "Did she bite you? Are you bleeding?" she asked as soon as she reached Amy.

  "No." Amy's blush hid her freckles for a moment. She averted her gaze. "I'm fine. It's my fault. I should have paid attention."

  "Or maybe you shouldn't have named her Mouse. Now she thinks she's a rodent and is allowed to nibble on you." Rika grinned, hoping to coax a smile from Amy too. Amy's stiff posture made Rika feel bad about causing the incident.

  A reluctant smile leaked through Amy's tense expression. "Yeah, maybe." She looked away from Rika.

  Is she angry with me for interrupting her work and distracting her? "So why name a horse Mouse?" she asked, just to test Amy's mood.

  Amy shrugged. "When I was a little girl, I had a liking for unusual names. I named Papa's best mare Measles because of her spots."

  "And your father allowed that?" Rika's father hadn't asked for her opinion when he named their horse. And had she suggested that it be named after a contagious disease, he probably would have yelled at her. Or worse. Rika shoved the thought away.

  "Mama said at first he flinched whenever he called the horse," Amy said, now grinning, "but Papa never objected to the names I gave the horses. And when I got older, I kept up with it, mainly to annoy Nattie. She thinks the horses should have poetic or 'historically meaningful' names like Dancer and Lancelot." She rolled her eyes and looked over at Nattie, who was still in the corral with Zebra. "As if the horses could read Nattie's fancy books."

  She and Nattie couldn't be more different if they tried. While the Hamilton sisters both loved horses and had stood together to defend Phin's reputation and her against the girls at the schoolhouse dance, Rika wasn't yet sure how close they really were.

  "Are you mucking stalls?" Amy asked, looking over Rika's shoulder to the barn. "Why aren't you wearing gloves?"

  "I was. I found these," Rika pulled a pair of gloves from her apron pocket, "when I helped bring the equipment into the new tack room. But they are either your father's or belong to a ranch hand. They're too big for me and started to rub my skin raw, so I took them off."

  Amy tugged her own gloves from her waistband. "Here. Try these."

  "But they are yours. You'll need them or ruin your hands."

 
"No, my calluses are in all the right places. See?" She held out her hands. Her palms were covered with calluses.

  Reluctantly, Rika took the gloves and pulled them on. The gauntlets were still warm from where they had been tucked against Amy's body. Rika stretched her fingers. The gloves were a bit too loose but would protect her hands much better than the bigger pair she had tried before. "Thank you. I'll give them back once I'm done with the stalls."

  "I think this is yours," a deep voice said behind them.

  Rika turned.

  Hank pushed the wheelbarrow toward Rika.

  "Oh." With flushed cheeks, Rika hurried toward him. "I didn't mean to leave it behind. I just..." She had allowed herself to become distracted while she watched Amy work with Mouse.

  "It's all right," Hank said. "I just need to get Old Jack, and the wheelbarrow was in the way."

  Amy walked over, leading Mouse on a rope. "Old Jack? You're not going to town, are you? I need every hand to replace the loose rails on the corral and prepare it for the roundup."

  "It's not for me," Hank said. "Your mother asked me to get the buckboard ready for her. She wants to go to the saddle maker and get some of the tack replaced that burned in the fire."

  A shiver raced along Rika's skin as she thought about that night.

  "If you take over Mouse for a minute, I'll get the buckboard ready for Mama," Amy said. "I need to talk to her anyway."

  Rika gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow, her hands now protected by Amy's gloves. The simple kindness sat like a piece of lead in her stomach because she had earned it with lies.

  You earned it with hard work, she told herself. Every blister, every bruise, and every drop of sweat had been earned honestly. She had risked her life to help Amy save the horses from the burning barn. You deserve their respect.

  Clenching her jaw, she pushed the wheelbarrow toward the manure pile.

  * * *

  Amy fiddled with the reins and finally handed them up to her mama. "When you're in town," she said, keeping her gaze on Old Jack, "do you think you have time to go to the cobbler's?"

  "The cobbler's? Why would I go there?" Mama glanced at Amy's boots. "You need new boots so soon?"

  "No. My boots are fine. Can you order a new pair of gloves, please?"

  "Gloves?" Mama's gaze wandered to Amy's bare hands.

  "Not for me. Hendrika needs her own pair. I still owe her money, and it would be a good way to say thank you for helping me save the horses."

  A warm smile lit up Mama's face. "That's a nice idea." Then a frown replaced her smile. "But with what the new tack is gonna cost us, it might not be the best time for the extra expense."

  She was right. New saddles, bridles, and harnesses would use up most of their savings.

  "Maybe the cobbler will agree to trade the gloves for a load of hay?" Amy said.

  "I'll try," Mama said. "Do you know what size Hendrika wears?"

  It was amazingly easy to call up a mental image of Hendrika's hands. Along came the memory of how good it had felt to have Hendrika take care of her burned fingers. Amy roughly shook her head to get rid of the thought. She looked at Mama's fingers, which had a competent grip on the reins. "If they fit you, they should fit Hendrika too."

  "All right, sweetie. I'll see you later."

  With a flick of the reins, the wagon rolled up the hill.

  * * *

  When Nora left the cobbler's, the town's pastor and the doctor descended on her. "Mrs. Hamilton." Dr. Tolridge tipped his hat and extended his hand to help her cross the street. "How nice to see you in town."

  Oh, yeah? Nora eyed them suspiciously. Except for a quick greeting in church, she hadn't talked to either of them since she had told them she wouldn't teach while Luke was away. They had accepted it with an uncaring shrug, acting as if good teachers were a dime a dozen. She said nothing but waited to hear what they wanted.

  "Do you have a minute?" the pastor asked.

  Nora nodded.

  "We know you said that with your husband gone you wouldn't be able to teach, but..." Reverend Rhodes looked at the schoolhouse across the street.

  "Oh, let me guess. George and Hiram have managed to chase off yet another teacher and now you want me to take over the rest of the term." Bitterness and grim satisfaction warred within Nora. When she had first started teaching years ago, the doctor and the pastor had been her biggest opponents, loudly declaring that a married woman shouldn't be allowed to teach school. Only Jacob Garfield's vote of confidence had convinced the school board to give Nora a chance.

  "No," Reverend Rhodes said. "It's not that."

  "Not yet," the doctor said.

  Right at that moment, the schoolhouse's door banged shut. A young teacher stormed away, his collar askew.

  Nora could easily imagine what had happened. Hiram and George were big boys of sixteen — almost too old to still be in school. By now, they should have been helping their fathers or trying to find work, but hard work didn't have much appeal for them. Spelling, arithmetic, and geography didn't interest them either. They came to school to amuse themselves by disrupting class and terrorizing the teacher. Openly, they boasted that no teacher would last a whole term — and no one but Nora ever had.

  "All right." The pastor sighed. "It is as you thought. We need a teacher who won't let herself be chased off by George and Hiram. It would just be for a few weeks, until summer break."

  Nora hesitated. The boys wouldn't dare to lay hand on a female teacher, but they had other ways to make teaching unpleasant for her. When Nora taught school, George was bad enough, and now that his cousin Hiram had moved to town and joined him in school, she was sure the children hadn't learned a thing all year.

  She reached into her apron pocket and felt the list of things they needed from the saddle maker. It was a long list. We could really use the money. With Hendrika willing to help out, Nattie could handle the chores around the house.

  "All right." She gave the pastor a grim nod. "You've got yourself a teacher, Reverend."

  The schoolhouse's door opened again and laughing children stepped outside.

  "Excuse me," Nora said. "I need to stop them before this gets completely out of hand." She marched to the schoolhouse and reached it just as the last two children headed out the door. "If this isn't George and Hiram Miller — just the two young gentlemen I wanted to see." She stared them down, acting unimpressed with the fact that the boys towered over her.

  Hiram folded muscular arms across his chest. "But maybe we don't want to see you."

  Oh, so he's the boss, not George. Nora gestured at the door, ignoring his comment. "Let's go in and talk like adults." They couldn't dismiss her invitation if they didn't want to be thought of as children.

  George shuffled his feet and looked at Hiram.

  "Oh, not you, George." Nora patted his arm. "You go on home. I'll talk to Hiram — that is, if he's not too scared to be alone with me."

  "Scared?" Hiram snorted. "By a little schoolmarm like you?"

  Nora held the door open for him. "Wonderful. Then it's settled. We'll go inside and talk."

  When she entered behind Hiram, the schoolroom felt much smaller than it usually did. The child-size benches and desks made Hiram appear even larger. For a moment, old fears surfaced, but Nora wrestled them down. At Luke's side, she had learned to face all kinds of threats, and she wouldn't back down from this young brute who had the body of a man and the brain of an unruly child.

  She sorted through her options. The teacher's cane next to the blackboard wasn't her style of teaching, and she knew Hiram could easily take it away from her and use it as a weapon against her anyway. Telling his father to discipline him wouldn't work either. She had tried it with George last year, and whatever punishment George's father had handed out, it made George resent her even more.

  If I want him to respect me, I need to earn his respect first — and just being a good teacher won't impress him. She had to prove herself superior in an area that he didn't expect.r />
  A slow smile inched across her face when she remembered something else Luke had taught her. "Let's sit down." She gestured at her desk.

  "Sitting around is for womenfolk. I'll go fishing now." Hiram sauntered to the door.

  "So you don't want to hear the deal I have to offer?" Nora asked from her desk.

  A cautious glance met hers. "Deal? What deal?"

  "If I win, you'll come to school every day for the rest of the term and you'll sit quietly and try to learn what I'm teaching."

  "Sounds like a bad deal. No, thanks." Hiram took another step toward the door.