Hidden Truths (12 page)

But instead of the stallion, Cinnamon raced toward her, his
saddle empty and the reins flapping behind him. He thundered past her.
Something had scared him badly.

"Hendrika!" Amy's heart leaped. She urged Ruby
from a brisk lope into an all-out gallop. Hoofbeats pounded in Amy's ears, or
maybe it was her own heartbeat. They raced toward the small hill where they had
left Hendrika.

There!

Relief shot through her at the sight of Hendrika walking
toward them. Ruby slid to a stop next to her, and Amy flew out of the saddle.
She gripped Hendrika's shoulders. Her gaze darted up and down her body.
"Are you all right?"

Hendrika nodded, her eyes wide. Mud covered her skirt and
bodice, and she had lost her bonnet, but otherwise, she seemed unharmed.

Amy let go of her. "What happened?"

"The stallion was running right toward us, and I
thought I could block his way, but he reared and then Cinnamon reared
too."

"Block his way?" Amy wanted to grab Hendrika and
shake her. How could Hendrika think that Cin would march toward a wild stallion
that came charging right at him? "I told you to stay and not move a
muscle!"

Hendrika wrapped her arms around herself. "But he was
getting away."

"The river would have stopped him. But now he did get
away and Cinnamon too, thank you very much."

Mud-spattered arms tightened around Hendrika's upper body.
Her shoulders hunched.

"Are you hurt?" Amy asked.

Hendrika shook her head. "Just sore."

Long years of practice helped Amy shed her anger and her
fear, and by the time she reached for Ruby's reins, she had calmed down. Papa
had taught her at a young age that an angry person had no business getting on a
horse. She could deal with her emotions and with Hendrika later.

Part of her wanted to leave Hendrika behind while she rode
and searched for Cinnamon, but she didn't want to risk something else happening
while Hendrika waited here, alone.

She mounted and directed Ruby downhill so that she was below
Hendrika. "Come on. We need to get help to catch Cinnamon and the
stallion." At the thought of slinking back, having to ask Adam and the
other men for help, anger sparked again, but Amy forced it down. She reached
out her hand and pulled her left foot out of the stirrup, making room for
Hendrika to put her foot there. "Climb up behind me."

Still trembling like a scared filly, Hendrika gripped Amy's
hand and let herself be pulled onto the horse behind Amy. When Ruby started to
move, Hendrika's hands slipped around Amy's hips.

Amy's stomach fluttered. Heat suffused her cheeks, and she
was glad Hendrika was behind her and couldn't see her face.

Stop this madness. You've got enough trouble as it is.

*  *  *

When Amy pulled Ruby to a stop in the ranch yard, Adam and
Hank were just packing up their tools next to the repaired corral gate.

Hank hurried over and helped Hendrika down. "What
happened?"

"Where's Toby?" Amy asked instead of answering.
She didn't dismount, knowing she'd have to head out again in a moment.

"He went to check on the yearlings, like you told
him," Hank said.

Damn.
Now she had no choice but to ask Adam for help.
"I need you two to ride out with your lariats. There's a wild stallion
down by the Molalla River, and he's heading toward the east pasture. I want him
caught before he can steal any of our mares. And keep an eye out for
Cinnamon." Very likely, the gelding had calmed down by now and was already
on his way back home, but she still worried. She hoped she would find him when
she moved the herd from the east pasture.

"Oh, now you're finally sending men to do a man's
work." Adam lifted his lip in a sneer.

The anger Amy had held in check since the stallion had
gotten away bubbled to the surface. Adam would never dare talk like this to
Papa or to Phin.

Ruby shifted beneath her, feeling Amy's tension, and Amy
forced herself to calm down. "I'm sending you because I still need to move
the herd and I can't get the herd, search for Cinnamon, and catch the stallion
all at once."

"Please, help her," Hendrika said, her eyes still
wide. "It's all my fault. Please, I don't want Cinnamon to get hurt or the
stallion to steal your mares just because of me."

Her gentle pleas did what Amy's order hadn't accomplished.
Adam headed to the paddock to catch his horse. It rankled Amy that Hendrika had
resorted to a doe-eyed look while she was trying to get the men to accept
orders from a woman. She ignored the accidental brush of Hendrika's shoulder
against her leg and turned to Hank. "Don't let that stallion get
away."

When Papa got home, she wanted him to find the ranch
thriving, not half of their mares gone.

Hank tipped his hat. "We won't."

Amy pulled Ruby around and loped toward the east pasture.

W
HEN
RIKA CLOSED the door behind her, Nattie looked up from a bowl of peas.

"Hendrika!" Nattie hurried over. "What
happened?"

Rika glanced down at herself. Her bodice was drenched with
water and mud. Grass stains covered her skirt. Every muscle in her body hurt,
especially those in her thighs, her back, and her backside. She let Nattie lead
her toward the warming fire and plucked a blade of grass from her skirt.
"I wanted to help, but I fell off the horse and the stallion got
away."

"Amy let you ride a stallion?" Nattie looked ready
to murder her sister.

"Oh, no. I was riding Cinnamon, and I tried to stop a
wild stallion from escaping. I thought if I could just scare him a little and
shoo him toward Amy... I didn't think that Cinnamon would be the one getting
scared. He always seemed so calm."

Nattie licked her lips as if she didn't know what to say.
"You don't have any experience with horses whatsoever, do you?"

Wonderful.
Rika pressed grass-stained fingers to her
temples.
Now she thinks I'm not fit to marry a rancher.
She forced
herself to hold Nattie's gaze. "Not yet, but I'll learn."

"There's no shame in admitting you're not cut out for
life on a ranch," Nattie said.

"I'm a quick learner. If you give me a chance, I'll
prove myself."

Nattie sighed, but her gaze softened. "Where's
everyone?"

"The ranch hands rode out to capture the stallion, and
Amy went to bring in the herd from the east pasture," Rika said.

"Then they'll be gone for a while, and I better go muck
the stalls." Nattie looked at the armchair, where a leather-bound book
lay. "Seems the new book Phin brought me from his last visit from Portland
will have to wait. And you better go change into something dry, or you'll catch
your death."

A damp strand of hair fell into Rika's eyes as she lowered
her head. She realized she'd lost her bonnet. "This was my last clean
skirt. Do you think your mother would lend me her scrubbing board?"

"I'll give you one of Amy's skirts. She's only a bit
taller than you."

Rika hesitated. Better not try Amy's patience again.
"Are you sure it's all right? Amy won't be angry if we just take it?"

Nattie narrowed her eyes. "Amy yelled at you, didn't
she?"

"Oh, no. It's fine. I —"

"Don't mind her. I love her to death, but sometimes, my
sister is just too hotheaded for her own good. She gets along with horses
better than with people." Nattie patted Rika's arm. "But she won't
mind if you take one of her skirts. It's not like she's wearing them all that
often anyway."

She led Hendrika upstairs and opened the door to Amy's room.
"Be careful not to step on anything."

Rika looked around. The room resembled Phineas's cabin.
Halters hung on the wall, and the metal parts of a bridle were strewn over the
quilt on Amy's bed. A long shelf drew Rika's attention. She stepped closer and
touched one of the carved figurines. On top of the shelf, a herd of Appaloosas
galloped toward a miniature version of the Hamilton ranch. A shaggy dog was
barking at a coyote to keep him away from the hens lined up around the
henhouse. At the end of the shelf, a stagecoach with six prancing horses waited
for its travelers to board.

"These are amazing," Rika said. "Look at that
detail. Did Amy make them?"

Nattie laughed. "Amy sitting still and staying inside
long enough to carve them? No. Papa made them when we were little. Everybody
says I get my artistic talents from him."

"So you carve too?"

"No. I put the paint on them when I was older."
Nattie slid a fingertip over the rich brown coat and the white splotches of one
miniature horse.

"You paint?" Rika thought of her mother's paint
box. She'd traded it for a loaf of bread.

"A little. Want to see?"

When Rika nodded, Nattie handed her one of Amy's skirts and
led her to the room next door. While the smell of leather and fresh air
dominated Amy's room, Nattie's room smelled of old paper. In a way, everything
in Nattie's room revolved around horses too. On a small desk in the corner, a
book on horse anatomy sat next to sketches of Appaloosa coat patterns. A
watercolor painting above the bed showed the view from the Hamiltons' porch
during sunset, with white-crowned Mount Hood in the distance and a few horses
grazing in the corral.

"My mother painted too," Rika said before she
could think about it.

"She doesn't anymore?"

Rika cursed herself. Had Jo ever mentioned her parents in
her letters? She didn't think so. "She's dead."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Nattie shuffled her feet.
"You should try painting sometime. Maybe you have some talent for it
too."

"Maybe." Painting was for rich women and dreamers.
It didn't feed hungry mouths and wouldn't prove her worth to the Hamiltons.

"Oh, and this," Nattie nodded at one of the
charcoal drawings above her bed, "is Phin."

Rika studied the picture, took in the carefully drawn face,
the strong jaw, and the boyish grin. "Do you know him well?"

"I suppose."

"So what's he like?"

"He's a good man." Nattie sat on the bed and
trailed a finger along the edge of the drawing, then jerked her hand away.

She keeps a picture of him above her bed.
Was Nattie
her competition when it came to becoming Mrs. Phineas Sharpe? Was that why
Nattie wanted her to return to Boston? Rika decided to ask. If Phineas's
affections lay elsewhere, it was better if she learned about it now. "The
two of you... are you... close?"

Nattie stood and stepped away from the bed. "It's not
like you think. Phin knew me when I was just a little girl, and I know he still
sees me as a girl, an adopted sister, not a woman."

It wasn't exactly an enthusiastic denial of any feelings she
might have for Phineas, but it would have to do. "Then he has been working
for your father for a long time?"

"Ten years." Nattie glanced at Phineas's picture,
then away. "He's part of the family now, and I wish he wouldn't
leave."

What could Rika say to that? Except for her mother, she'd
never missed another person in her life, and even her mother was just the
shadow of a memory by now. "I'm sorry —"

"Oh, no." The corners of Nattie's lips moved up,
but the smile didn't light up her eyes. "I understand that he wants to
build his own place. He deserves it. And he deserves a wife who can make him
happy. If that's you, then so be it." She turned toward the window, where
the sun crept toward the horizon. "I better get started on cleaning the
stalls and feeding the horses."

"Can I help?" Rika asked.

Nattie laughed. "If you had ever mucked stalls, you
wouldn't volunteer."

"I don't mind."

"Come on, then."

*  *  *

Rika peeked into the first stall.

A brown horse with a few white dots on its rump looked back
at her.

Nattie reached over the stall door and patted the horse's
neck. "This beauty is Snowflake. She's mine." When the mare sniffed
her hair, she laughed, then opened another stall door and maneuvered a
wheelbarrow through it.

That stall, like most others, was empty. Cinnamon's stall
was empty too, and the sight of it made worry gnaw at Rika.

"Grab a pitchfork," Nattie said.

After watching for a moment, Rika joined her in raking horse
apples into a pile and scooping up the soiled straw. Her muscles, still sore
from riding for the first time and getting thrown off, protested fiercely and
after the first stall, her hands burned, but Rika clenched her teeth and
continued.

She tightened her fists around the rough handle of the
pitchfork and marched to the second stall, ignoring the protests from her body.

While they worked, Nattie told her of her family's journey
west. Unlike Amy, her sister seemed to like talking to people as much as
keeping company with horses. "Shall I tell you the story of how Mama
almost ended up an Indian bride?"

"What?" On the stagecoach, Rika had heard a lot of
gruesome stories from the other travelers about how Indians abducted white
women.

Laughing, Nattie swung another forkful of manure into the
wheelbarrow. "When we were little, we used to beg Papa to tell it over and
over again. It seems a few Lakota were fascinated with Mama's red hair and
wanted to trade in a war pony for her. Mama says had the Lakota chief offered a
spotted horse, she might be cooking for a bunch of Indian warriors now."

If their father was anything like Amy, Rika could almost
believe it. She eyed Nattie. "Surely you're joking?"

"Of course I am." A grin brought out the green
color in Nattie's eyes. "If you had ever seen my parents with each other,
you wouldn't need to ask. I pray to God that I'll find someone I love as much
as they love each other." Shadows of sadness flashed across Nattie's eyes,
turning them gray. Then her smile returned. "Come on. We need to hurry.
Seems Mama can't tear herself away from admiring the Buchanans' new baby, so I
need to make supper."