by Jae
* * *
Luke sat next to Nora on the bed and trailed the brush through Nora’s hair. The red strands gleamed like brushed copper already, but she didn’t stop. Not when she hadn’t yet figured out how to tell her wife. She smoothed her fingers over Nora’s temple, where a few gray hairs were starting to appear. How could she even start to explain?
“What is it?” Nora asked. “Did Amy talk to you?”
Luke froze with the brush stuck in Nora’s hair. “She told you already?”
Nora disentangled a strand of hair from the brush and turned to gaze at her. “No. Rika did. She asked me as soon as you and Amy left this morning.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Well, at least they’re working together, like a couple should,” Nora said.
“What did you tell Rika?” Luke asked.
Nora took the brush from Luke and entwined their fingers. “That I’d talk to you.”
“I told Amy the same.”
“So?” Nora looked at her, waiting. “What do you think?”
Luke didn’t even have to think about it. “I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous. It’s thirty miles to Salem. They’d be on the road all day, and they’d have to camp on the fairgrounds before riding back the next day. Two women alone... It’s like a written invitation for thieves and drunken thugs.”
“They wouldn’t be two women alone,” Nora said.
Luke grimaced. “Don’t get me started on Amy’s hare-brained idea.”
“Are you being a mother hen again?” A tiny smile lifted the corners of Nora’s mouth.
“I just worry. Traveling all the way to Salem and back without male company, and then—”
“Listen to yourself, Luke Hamilton. Before we could afford to hire ranch hands, we lived and traveled without male company for years.”
“Yeah, but that’s different. I’m convincing in my...role. Because it’s not really a role for me. But Amy... If she’s discovered...” Luke squeezed her eyes shut, but that couldn’t stop the images of angry fairgoers shouting at Amy, pushing her around, and—
A squeeze to Luke’s hand stopped her nightmare-inducing thoughts.
“Then help her be convincing,” Nora said.
Luke drew her brows together. “You don’t mean...?”
Nora nodded. “You know what it takes to make others think you’re a man. Show her.”
“But...” Luke drilled her teeth into her lower lip. “Aren’t you afraid that Amy...?”
“That she’ll like it too much?” Nora asked. “That she’ll become too much like you and will want to live her life as a man too?”
Before, Luke wouldn’t have been able to explain what exactly she was afraid of, but now that Nora had said it, she realized that Nora was right. “Didn’t it cross your mind too?”
“Maybe for a moment,” Nora said. “But I think Amy likes being a woman. She just dislikes the restrictions that come with it.”
“But if she lived as a man, she wouldn’t have those restrictions,” Luke said.
“Amy isn’t blind. She sees every day what kind of restrictions living as a man puts on you.”
Restrictions? Luke squinted. Living in disguise afforded her the freedom to make her own choices, so what was Nora talking about? “What do you mean?”
“When they were growing up, you rarely hugged our daughters for fear of them feeling the bandages holding down your breasts,” Nora said.
Luke flushed. She hadn’t thought Nora had noticed.
“You always smoke with the boys even though I know you hate it, and you let the girls name the foals, because you’re afraid people will think you unmanly if you name your horses anything more poetic than ‘Buck.’” Nora shook her head. “Amy knows she would only trade one set of restrictions for another.”
“Hmm.” Luke had never considered it that way, but maybe Nora was right.
Nora lifted their entwined fingers and pressed a kiss to the back of Luke’s hand. “Talk to Amy, then see what you think, all right?”
Luke circled the bed and climbed in on her side. She blew out the kerosene lamp and stared into the darkness, trying to come up with something to say to Amy tomorrow. Nothing came to mind. That was one conversation she never thought she would have with one of their daughters.
The bed creaked as Nora cuddled closer. “Can’t sleep?”
“No.” Luke sighed.
“I know something that’ll help you sleep,” Nora said.
When Nora’s fingers slid up her nightshirt, Luke let the soft touches wash away her worries for a while.
* * *
Luke paced the length of the cabin. Had it been this small when they had all lived in it eighteen years ago?
“Um, Papa?”
Luke stopped and whirled.
Amy and Rika sat next to each other at the table. A pair of green and a pair of dark eyes followed each of her movements. “I don’t want to rush you,” Amy said, “but the fair is in two days, so we don’t have much time.”
The air seemed stuffy in the cabin, but Luke didn’t dare open the door. No one was allowed to see what they were doing. She had been Amy’s teacher in many things. She had taught her to ride, to use a rifle, and to rope a horse. This is just one more thing I’m going to teach her. That’s all there is to it. She took a deep breath. “All right. Let’s start with walking.”
“I’ve been walking for twenty years, Papa,” Amy said. “I think we can skip the walking lessons and focus on the difficult stuff.”
Luke pointed at the open space between the rough-hewn table and the hearth. “Show me.”
Amy exchanged a quick glance with Rika before she stood and took a few steps. She turned and looked at Luke with one cocked eyebrow. “Satisfied?”
“No.”
“No?” Amy looked down at her legs.
“Have you ever watched men walk?” Luke asked.
“Sure. I practically grew up with Phin and half of the boys. I’ve seen them walk thousands of times before.”
Luke shook her head. “You’ve seen them, but you never really watched them. Men don’t take dainty, little steps. They’re not bound by skirts or the rules of how a lady is supposed to walk. Don’t be afraid to make a little noise. Let people know you’re coming. Watch me.” She strode from the hearth to the door and back. “See?”
“Like this?” With longer strides, Amy crossed the room.
“Better, but don’t move your hips so much. And don’t look down. Straighten your shoulders. Yeah.” Luke pointed at Amy, who had started walking again. “Now you’ve got it. Try sitting next.”
“Sitting?” Amy threw her a doubtful look.
“Try it.”
Shaking her head, Amy took a seat at the table and raised her eyebrows.
Luke gestured with her index finger. “Set your feet more apart. Don’t put your hands in your lap.”
Amy squirmed on her chair. “This feels strange. I never realized men and women do such simple things differently. How did you learn?”
“I watched men for hours.” The corners of Luke’s mouth twitched. “One time, someone beat me up because he thought I wanted to steal his horse.”
“Lord.” Amy reached for Rika’s hand. “That’s awful.”
“That’s why I don’t want you to do this,” Luke said. She walked up to Amy and crouched in front of her as she had done when Amy had been a child. Now they were almost at eye level. “There’s a lot that can go wrong, and you’re not used to reacting like a man would.”
Rika reached over and rubbed Amy’s knee. “Maybe he...she’s right, Amy. It’s not worth it.”
“Yes, it is.” Determination glinted in Amy’s eyes. “You’re worth it.” She turned toward Luke, and her expression changed from stubborn to pleading. “We’re celebrating our one-year anniversary this month. I want to do something special for Rika.”
Luke remembered the first year of her marriage. She had wanted to bring down the moon for Nora. She still did. “I
understand. I really do. But isn’t there something else you could do?” She looked from Amy to Rika, who was usually more reasonable.
Rika nodded. “I would be content just spending a quiet evening here in the cabin.”
“I don’t want you to be content,” Amy said. “I want you to be happy.”
Luke couldn’t help admiring her daughter. “How about I take you and Rika to the state fair? I was thinking about showing a horse or two at the fair anyway. We travel together, then you change into male apparel shortly before we arrive in Salem, and when the dance is over, I’ll take you home.”
A firm glance pierced Luke. “You never mentioned wanting to go to the fair before.”
“Must have slipped my mind with everything that’s been going on,” Luke said, trying to sound casual. “I mean with the rustlers and then—”
“Papa, I’m twenty-one years old,” Amy said. “Jim Buchanan took over his father’s ranch when he was my age. You said you wanted me to take over the ranch one day too. If that’s true, then you have to stop treating me like I’m a little girl.”
Luke tilted back her head and looked at the logs forming the cabin’s ceiling. It seems Amy isn’t the only one who still needs to learn some of life’s lessons. She sighed. “All right. If you’re this intent on going, then let’s practice a handshake between men.”
* * *
“Where’s Papa?” Amy sat down her packed bags next to the door, peeked out the window, and tried to see if anything was moving in the pitch-dark ranch yard. “We have to leave before it gets light and someone recognizes me.”
Rika stopped behind her and laid one hand on Amy’s shoulder. “Calm down. Dawn is at least an hour away. Have you thought of a name? I can’t very well keep calling you Amy if we want this to work.”
Amy turned to look at her. “How about you pick one? You’re much better at picking names for the horses too.”
“How about Amos? That way, if I slip and start to call you Amy, I can make it sound like Amos.”
Amos. Amos Hamilton. Hmm. Amy repeated it a few more times, but it still didn’t feel as if that was her name. How had Papa gotten used to being called Luke after being born as Lucinda? Had it been hard for her too? Amy had never asked herself these questions before. She still had a hard time imagining that her father was anything other than the calm, confident man that she appeared to be.
A knock on the door made her jump.
“Finally!” Amy wrenched open the door.
Her father stood in front of her, carrying a large covered basket. Even if anyone was up already and saw Luke crossing the ranch yard, they would think she was bringing them some food from the main house.
Amy lifted the cloth covering the basket and peeked inside.
The item on top was a pair of pants. It wasn’t that Amy didn’t own any, but hers were meant for working and riding, not good pairs of trousers to wear on Sundays. When she went to church or to town, she had to wear dresses.
“Your mother changed everything to fit you,” Papa said. “We also put bandages in there. For...you know?” She pointed at her chest that was as flat as a man’s.
Amy nodded and took the basket.
“Do you think you can manage on your own?”
The thought of Papa helping her dress made Amy blush. When she looked at her father, she detected a bit of red on her cheeks too.
“I’ll help her,” Rika said.
“Um, great. The bindings have to be really tight. Don’t forget to lower your voice when you speak, and remember to sit with your legs apart. And take your—”
“My rifle. I know. You really don’t have to worry, Papa.”
Papa gave a wry smile. “I can’t help it. Please be careful.” She gave Amy a quick hug and turned.
Amy leaned in the doorway and watched her father cross the ranch yard, taking in the length and the firmness of her stride. Would she really be able to pull this off?
“Come on.” Rika laid both hands on her shoulders from behind. “Let’s make you the most handsome man on this side of the Missouri.”
After barricading the cabin’s door, Amy followed her to the bedroom. She set down the basket next to the washstand. “Uh, how do we do this?”
Rika giggled. “I think it would help if you undress first.”
“Oh. Of course.” Willing her fingers not to tremble, Amy unbuttoned her shirt.
When it slid off her shoulders, Rika was there to catch it. She carefully folded the shirt and set it on the bed, never looking away from Amy.
Amy kicked off her boots and took off her pants. In her chemise and drawers, she turned away from the washstand and toward Rika. For some reason, she suddenly felt shy. Come on. Rika has seen you—and touched you—many times before. She fiddled with the bands that tied her drawers below the knee.
“Let me.” Her eyes dark and intent, Rika stepped closer, knelt in front of Amy, and untied the knee bands. She gently pulled down the drawers, sliding her hands down Amy’s legs as she went.
Amy’s breath caught. Frozen to the spot, she stared down at Rika.
Rika smoothed her hands over Amy’s calves. “Your legs are too nice to be a man’s.”
When she spoke, her breath washed over Amy’s crotch, making her light-headed. “Rika...” She grasped at Rika’s shoulders and pulled her up.
“Lift your arms.” Rika reached up and pulled the chemise over Amy’s head.
They stood so close that Amy could feel her body heat through the thin layer of Rika’s dress separating them.
Rika took in Amy’s body, her gaze smoldering. “Are you sure you want to do this? I told you I would be fine just going to the dance in Baker’s P—”
Amy laid her index finger against Rika’s lips. “No. We’re going to Salem. Help me, please.”
Rika opened the basket and took out a pair of linen trousers, a shirt and undershirt, a vest, a cravat, a pair of wool socks, and suspenders.
“No drawers?” Amy asked.
Rika rooted through the pile of clothes. “No. I guess you can wear yours. No one but me will see them anyway.”
Amy pulled up the drawers that pooled around her ankles. She put on the knee-high wool socks and stuffed the legs of her drawers into them to help hold up the socks. Then, with Rika watching, she stepped into the trousers and pulled them up. So far, she didn’t feel any different than when dressing to ride the range. But when she glanced up from buttoning her fly, Rika stood there with rolled-up bandages in her hands. Amy looked down at her breasts and barely resisted the urge to cover her chest with her hands.
“These are too nice to be a man’s too,” Rika whispered.
They both giggled nervously.
Rika touched Amy’s shoulder. Her hand felt cool against Amy’s overheated skin. “Lift your arms a bit.”
Amy obliged.
After stepping even closer, Rika lifted the bandages and began to wrap them around Amy’s chest. Her fingers brushed Amy’s breasts, making her nipples harden and raising goose bumps all over her skin. Rika looked up. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Uh, no.” Amy licked her lips. “Quite the opposite.”
Rika paused. She stared at Amy. “Oh.” Her lips parted in a smile, revealing the slight gap between her front teeth. She brushed her fingers over one of Amy’s breasts again, this time on purpose.
Amy moaned.
Rika covered Amy’s mouth with her own. “Ssh,” she whispered against her lips. “We have to be quiet.”
“I can’t,” Amy whispered back breathlessly. “Not when you touch me like this.”
Rika’s eyes darkened until they looked black in the flickering light of the kerosene lamp. “Maybe my offer to just stay in the cabin on our anniversary wasn’t such a bad idea.”
For a moment, Amy was tempted. But then she imagined dancing with Rika at the state fair, Rika’s dark eyes sparkling and a strand of her hair escaping its pins. “No,” she said. “We can still...you know...once we return. But I want to g
ive you this one night in Salem.”
“I don’t need it, Amy. All I need is you.”
Amy regarded her seriously. “You have me. But I want you to have both.”
“All right. Then let’s get this wrapped up.” Rika grinned and continued binding Amy’s breast.
Amy grunted as the bandages tightened around her chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Is it too tight?” Rika asked.
Staring at her flattened bosom, Amy took an experimental breath. The bindings felt like steel bands around her chest. She had never before thought about what her father had to go through every day to transform herself into Lucas Hamilton, well-respected rancher, father, and husband. If Papa has done it for Mama year after year, I can do it for Rika for just one day. She straightened slowly, testing her range of motion. “It’s all right. I’ll get used to it.”
With Rika’s help, she slipped into an undershirt, a shirt, and finally a vest. When she fiddled with the cravat, Rika took it from her and tied it into a neat bow.
Amy glanced down at the cravat around her neck. “How do you know how to do that?”
“I had to do it for my husband,” Rika said without looking at her. “Whenever he drank too much, he couldn’t get dressed on his own.”
Sometimes, Amy completely forgot that Rika had been married before coming west. She didn’t like thinking about Rika with her late husband. “Oh.”
Rika smoothed one hand down Amy’s chest. “But he never looked as handsome as you.” She tied back Amy’s hair and tried to tame it into a more masculine look with the help of some grease. Finally, she popped open Papa’s collapsible top hat with a snapping sound before placing it on Amy’s head. “Look.” She pulled her around so that she was facing the mirror attached to the washstand.
Amy stared at her reflection in the mirror. In front of her stood an elegant young man. Only a beard was missing to make the illusion perfect. Stunned, she touched her chest as if to make sure her bosom was still there.
Rika laughed. She stepped behind Amy and placed both hands on her shoulders. “You look wonderful.” Her gaze trailed down the man in the mirror. “But there’s one thing missing.”