by Jae
A golden eyebrow arched, and something in Tess's expression made blood rush to Rika's face. "It's fine," Rika said again. "If Phineas is anything like the Hamiltons, he wouldn't want it any other way."
Tess's gaze probed hers. "Are you looking forward to meeting him?"
Am I? Part of her was curious to meet Phineas since Amy and the rest of the family spoke highly of him, but another, bigger part of her dreaded his return. As if acting on a silent pact, Amy and she never talked about her betrothal, so on most days she could forget what had brought her to Oregon. For the first time in her life, she was free to be herself — not the dutiful daughter, the tireless nurse, or the diligent mill girl. Here, her worth wasn't measured by how much work she could do. Phineas's return would force her to prove herself again and to take on yet another role, that of Jo Bruggeman.
"I don't know." She lifted her shoulders, then let them drop. "I don't know him, so I'm not sure what to expect. I know some people think becoming a mail-order bride is unusual or even immoral, but —"
A soft touch on her forearm interrupted her. "I'm not judging you," Tess said. "God knows, I have no right to judge anyone for her life choices. It's just that you seem," she shrugged, "conflicted about it."
Rika blinked. Was she that easy to read?
Dozens of answers ran through Rika's mind, all of them lies that sounded plausible and would get Tess to stop asking questions. But something in the blue eyes made her discard the lies and tell the truth. "I've been married once before, and I know life as a widowed woman, all alone. I barely made enough for a living in Boston, and I lived in fear of losing my place in the cotton mill every day. I thought marrying a perfect stranger couldn't be any worse than what I've already been through."
"But?"
Now, after a few weeks at the ranch, she felt as if she had found a place where she wanted to stay and people to whom she might belong some day. The thought of moving away made her heart heavy.
Before she was forced to voice her thoughts, hoofbeats interrupted.
Amy and Frankie swept into the ranch yard and pulled their horses to a stop in a cloud of dust.
At the sight, Rika's heartbeat sped up. Lord, she's so stubborn. She had told Amy to stay out of the saddle, and here she was, racing with Frankie. Before Amy could dismount, Rika was at her side.
Ruby flicked her ears in Rika's direction, and she slowed her approach. The mare tugged at the bit and lifted her head to look at Rika. A speck of greenish-white foam landed on Rika's sleeve, and she rubbed it away.
This was not a leisurely ride. Rika squinted as if taking aim at Amy. Still in the saddle, Amy towered over her. Rika craned her neck to look into her eyes. "Didn't I tell you not to ride for a while?"
Amy shoved her hat back and let it dangle from her back. The temper people usually associated with her hair color sparked in her eyes. "You're not my mother."
Rika pressed her hands to her stomach as if an unexpected punch had hit her. "I thought I was your friend."
The muscles around Amy's mouth and eyes loosened. "You are. I'm sorry. It's just that Frankie wants to buy Mouse, and I wanted to give her a chance to see how far she has come in her training. It's been ten days, so my ribs should be fine."
At the sight of Amy's glowing eyes and wind-reddened cheeks, Rika couldn't hold on to her annoyance.
Tess wandered over and reached out to touch Mouse's neck.
Frankie leaned down and kissed Tess's cheek, greeting her cousin in the affectionate way Rika had observed between them since their arrival. Despite having helped to raise her siblings, Rika wasn't that close to any of her relatives.
"They have so many beautiful Appaloosas here, and you decide on this plain little mare named Mouse?" Tess chuckled.
That's how Rika had often felt among her half sisters, the young women in the boarding house, and even here at the ranch. In comparison to all the pretty women, she was plain and uninteresting.
"She's not plain," Amy said.
The passionate fire blazing in Amy's eyes stirred something in Rika. Does she think that about me too?
"Look at how she carries herself." Amy gestured to the mare. "With the right rider and a little more training, she'll be the best horse you ever had — if you want her."
Frankie rested her hand on Tess's shoulder. "Oh, of course I want her." She turned to Rika. "So, how much would you want for her?"
"Me?"
"I bought her with the money Phin left for you, so she's yours," Amy said.
"But you were the one who did all the work and trained her." Rika didn't want to take Mouse from Amy after the long hours she spent with her in the corral. The ten dollars weren't really hers anyway.
"I promised to pay back your money, and this is the only way I can afford it," Amy said. She lowered her head and looked down at Rika. "Please, take it."
After a second's hesitation, Rika nodded. At least Mouse would be cared for and could be useful in ways that she wasn't at the ranch.
"Then it's a deal." Frankie swung out of the saddle and looped her arm through Tess's.
A wagon clattered into the ranch yard. "Amy!" Nora called as she pulled Old Jack to a stop. "What are you doing on that horse? Didn't we agree that you would take it easy for a few more days?"
Rika couldn't stop the smirk that spread over her face. "Now she," she nodded at Nora, "is your mother. There's no way you can avoid that dressing-down."
"Thanks," Amy murmured and hastily climbed out of the saddle.
Hamilton Horse Ranch
Baker Prairie, Oregon
June 5, 1868
RIKA DRIFTED AWAKE. The orange light of dawn filtered through her closed eyelids, and she knew she had to get up soon, but for now, she kept her eyes closed. Peace filled her, and a contented hum escaped her lips.
At the tiny sound, something moved against her back, and Rika became aware of the warm body pressed against her own. Unlike Willem's presence in their bed or her half siblings draping their little bodies over hers, this didn't feel like an intrusion on her space.
It just felt nice and warm and safe.
Behind her, Amy nuzzled closer in her sleep. Soft locks tickled Rika's neck, and the ebb and flow of Amy's breathing bathed her shoulder and trailed a path of warmth down Rika's body.
Amy murmured something and smacked her lips, making Rika grin. After two weeks of sharing the room and the bed, Amy finally stopped suggesting she sleep in the stable or on the floor every night. She still clung to the edge of the bed once they slipped beneath the covers, but after talking for a while, Amy relaxed enough to sleep.
The nightly conversations were nice. Rika had never shared so much of herself with anyone. Hiding her identity became harder every day.
She jerked out of her thoughts when a warm hand landed on her hip and slid around to her stomach, then upward toward her bosom.
Lord! Unexpected heat shot through her body. What is this? What's she doing? Rika's smile vanished, and every trace of sleepiness fell off her. Her hand shot out and gripped Amy's wrist. She craned her neck and looked over her shoulder.
Amy was still fast asleep. Russet lashes rested against golden skin, giving Amy an appearance of innocence and vulnerability.
Calm down. She's sleeping and didn't mean anything by it. It wasn't Amy's fault if Rika's body reacted in improper ways to an accidental touch.
She moved Amy's hand to a safe spot outside of the covers and tried to enjoy a few more minutes in bed, but her body had lost its drowsiness now. With a sigh, she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Amy.
Amy rolled onto her stomach to Rika's side of the bed. Her hands slid over the sheet as if searching for something.
Maybe she's cold. Rika pulled the covers over Amy's shoulders and decided to let her sleep for a few more minutes. With the haying, Amy's day would be long and exhausting enough.
* * *
Nora bent and trailed her hand along the wide-bladed grass. A few steps to her right, she saw Hank bite do
wn on a stalk of grass. Nora didn't need to taste it to know that now was the time to bring in the hay crop. If they waited any longer, the stalks would become coarse.
With hardly a cloud in the sky, it was good haying weather. "All right," Nora said. "Let's get started." She ignored the grumbling from the ranch hands. They detested any work they couldn't do on horseback, and that included haying.
Chains jangled and leather creaked when they put Old Jack and Little Jack in front of the two-wheeled mower. Amy climbed on the seat and gathered the reins.
Nora wanted to race across the field and drag Amy down from the mower before she could hurt her ribs.
Mowing was not a smooth process. Holes, stones, and stumps lurked beneath the grass, threatening to jerk the breath out of horses and driver. The mower would bump and rattle over the field, and Amy would upset her still not fully healed ribs.
But Nora held herself back. Amy was a grown woman, a woman who was trying to gain the respect of the ranch hands.
Someone else didn't have that kind of consideration for Amy's authority, though. Hendrika gripped Amy's sleeve and refused to let go. "Let Hank do this."
"I've been handling the team with the mower for years," Amy said. She lifted her chin like a battering ram.
Hendrika tilted her head and peered down her nose, not moving back an inch. "Not with bruised ribs."
They stood caught in a silent battle of wills.
Then Nora reached them and held out her hand. "How about giving me the reins, Amy?"
Amy eyed her. "You want to drive the mower?"
Under her daughter's skeptical gaze, Nora straightened to her full height. "I've been driving that thing since before you were big enough to hold the reins." The first few years in Oregon, they couldn't afford to hire ranch hands, and Nora had helped with every chore on the ranch. When Luke had broken her foot one summer, Nora had been forced to learn quickly.
But she hadn't handled the mower in recent years. She was probably quite rusty, but she knew she couldn't hand the reins to Hank. It would send the message that women shouldn't drive the mower.
Finally, Amy relinquished the reins and climbed down.
The ranch hands stopped their own work to watch. Most of them hadn't seen Nora drive the mower before.
Hendrika gave Nora a nod and helped her up on the seat, perched above the six-foot-long cutting blade sticking out to the right side of the mower. With a deep breath, Nora loosened her grip on the reins and clucked at the horses. "Hyah!"
Old Jack started to pull, and his slightly smaller companion followed.
The mower rattled along the field, jostling Nora. She kept an eye on the long blade and tried to see through the grass. If she hit a rock or another hidden object, the steel blade might break and would have to be replaced.
Little Jack snorted and tried to veer to the left, away from the whirring blade to his right. Unlike his bigger companion, he was still fairly new to pulling the mower.
"Hey there! None of that, Little Jack." She flicked the reins over his broad back and worked to keep the horses driving in a straight line.
Morning dew was long gone from the field, and the sun was rising. Sweat dripped into Nora's eyes, but she had no time to wipe it away. Next to her, lush stalks fell. Field mice scurried into their hidden holes, and a hawk circled above them, waiting for a snack that might be left behind by the rattling blade.
Nora steered the mower around and around until, hours later, the whole field was mowed. "Now we hope for a few days of sunshine, and we'll be able to bring in the hay by the end of the week."
* * *
Days later, Nora took pitchers of cool water from the wagon and placed them in the shade of a tree while she listened to the preparations going on all around her. Luke said haying reminded her of a battle, and sometimes it was. Some years, they raced against time to bring in their hay before rain could ruin it.
"Hank, you drive the wagon. Emmett, you climb up and pack down the hay," Amy shouted across the field.
If haying is a battle, then Amy is our commander. And she's doing a good job. Pride filled Nora. She was sorry Luke wasn't there to see how well their daughter had adjusted to her responsibilities.
"I'll drive the dump rake," Amy continued. "And the rest of you can —"
Nora walked over and lowered her voice so only Amy would hear. "Is it really necessary for you to drive a mower or a rake before your ribs are better?"
"Mama, my ribs are much better. Rika looks at them every night." A flush spread over Amy's cheeks, making Nora study her curiously. "They are fine, see?" Amy patted her side.
If she forbade Amy to do her job in front of the ranch hands, she would undermine her authority. She couldn't do that to her, no matter how much she worried. Amy had worked too hard to gain the men's respect. And driving the rake wasn't as bad as being jostled around on the mower. "All right."
She would just have to keep an eye on Amy.
The curved wooden tines of the rake lowered to the ground, and with a shout from Amy, Little Jack started to move. The twelve-foot-long rake quickly filled with hay. When it was full, Amy pushed a lever with her foot. The rake rose and dropped a long pile of hay onto the field. Then the tines dropped down and gathered more hay.
After a while, Amy reached the end of the field. She turned Little Jack and urged him down the field again, next to the piles of hay she had already gathered. Each time she passed them, she pressed the lever and dropped another load of hay next to the one she had made on the previous trip down the field.
Long windrows formed until, finally, all the hay was gathered into long rows stretching across the hay field.
Nora had driven the dump rake a time or two before. She knew it wasn't easy to push the lever at the right moment. The first time she had done it, her windrows had been crooked. Amy's were straight and even, each stalk where it should be.
Tess wandered over, pitchfork already in hand. "She's good at that." She nodded to Amy.
Shading her eyes with one hand, Nora watched as Amy lowered the rake's teeth once again. She didn't try to hide her pride. "Yes, she is."
"Luke mentioned that Amy is running the ranch until he gets back," Tess said.
"We thought it might be a good test to see if she really wants to take over the ranch one day."
Tess turned away from watching Amy and glanced at Nora. "Luke would love that, wouldn't he?"
"Only if it's what Amy wants for herself."
"What do you think about it?" Tess's gaze probed hers.
"With Luke as her parent, Amy grew up thinking that it's all right for a woman to work with horses, ride the range, and make her own decisions."
"And this was just Luke's influence?" Tess asked.
"No," Nora said. "I wanted this kind of freedom for our daughters too. It's been wonderful to see my girls grow up into strong young women." Her gaze slid to Nattie, who gestured at her pitchfork as she explained something to Frankie.
"So that's a good thing, right?" Tess asked.
Nora looked at her old friend. "Yes, but the rest of the world doesn't think so. You saw what happened with Adam. If Amy chooses to take over the ranch, she won't have an easy life."
"Your life isn't exactly easy either," Tess said. "Just because life isn't easy doesn't mean it can't be a happy life. Or do you regret your decision to stay with Luke even after you found out about... him?"
"No, of course not."
"But?"
So Tess could still read between the lines and interpret what Nora didn't say. "Sometimes, I wonder if Luke is truly happy."
Blue eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding!"
Never voiced concerns clawed at Nora, finally wanting to be spoken. "The life we built together, it's so fragile. Luke knows it could be snatched away in a heartbeat, so I wonder if she ever lets herself be completely happy."
"Are you saying you aren't happy?"
"No, God, no! It's just..." Sometimes, she sensed the remaining tension in Luke,
and it bothered her that she couldn't help her, couldn't give her that complete peace and happiness.
"Sweetie." Tess dropped her pitchfork to clutch Nora's hands. "I've known Luke for a lot of years, and he's never been so at peace as when he's talking about his life with you."
The words eased Nora's worries, and she silently repeated them to herself. "He?" She glanced over her shoulder. They were alone on this part of the field, but Tess kept using male pronouns when she talked about Luke.