Hidden Truths (28 page)

"You won't even know I'm there," Hendrika said.

I seriously doubt that.
Amy was always much too aware
of Hendrika's presence, but that was her problem, not Hendrika's. She couldn't
make Hendrika feel unwelcome just because she was having those feelings.

"Come on," she said. "You can help me saddle
Cinnamon."

*  *  *

Ten minutes later, Amy cursed herself.
Brilliant idea.
Why didn't I just saddle the horse and let her watch?

Now Hendrika wanted personal instructions every step of the
way. "Like this?" she asked and rubbed the brush over Cinnamon's
back.

Her eagerness to learn and to help was hard to resist.

"Longer strokes," Amy said. "Put some muscle
into it. You won't hurt him." She stepped closer and reached around
Hendrika to take over the brush. Her body pressed against Hendrika's on every
brush stroke, making Amy sweat. "See?" Her voice trembled, and she
hoped Hendrika wouldn't notice.

"Yes." Hendrika reached for the brush, and their
fingers touched.

When Amy couldn't stand watching the slender fingers slide
over Cinnamon's coat anymore, she pointed to the saddle hanging over the top
rail. "Now the blanket and the saddle."

Hendrika grasped the blanket and placed it on Cinnamon's
back, taking care to slide it back in the direction of the hairs, not against
it.

"Who showed you how to do that?"

"Emmett," Hendrika said while she made sure that
the blanket covered Cinnamon's withers. "He's nice. All the ranch hands
are very nice to me."

Of course they are! They are nice to every young,
beautiful woman.
Amy bit back her comment, though. The boys would be
perfect gentlemen. They knew Papa would never stand for anything else.
And
they respect Phin too much to make unwelcome advances to his betrothed.
As
Phin's best friend, she should do the same, especially because she was a woman.
Admiring another woman that way wasn't right.

"Do you want me to try saddling him?" Hendrika
asked.

Amy nodded. "Go ahead. Grasp the cantle, the part in
the back, with your right hand and the base of the fork with your left
hand."

Hendrika swung the saddle down from the corral rail and
stumbled when the weight of the saddle dragged her down.

"Careful." Amy reached around Hendrika and helped
her carry the saddle to Cinnamon.

"Gracious!" Warm breath brushed along Amy's neck
when Hendrika turned her head. "It's a lot heavier than I thought."

It was. As a child, she had often ridden bareback because
the saddle had been too heavy for her to lift on her own.

"Now place your feet shoulder width apart, and put your
left foot forward."

When Hendrika slid her right foot back to balance herself,
her leg brushed Amy's, who was still helping her hold on to the saddle.

Amy swallowed. "Rock your body back and forth three
times." She cursed the breathless tone of her voice. "Gather momentum
to heave the saddle up on his back. On the third rock, you swing the saddle up
with a twist of your hips."

Hendrika's hips rocked back and forth against Amy. Heat shot
through Amy, and she almost lost her grip on the saddle.

The saddle landed on Cinnamon's back with more force than
planned. He turned his head but otherwise stayed still.

"Sorry, Cin," Amy mumbled and stepped back, away
from Hendrika.

"Seems I have to practice that some more,"
Hendrika said.

Goose bumps broke out all over Amy's body.
Not with me,
she
wanted to shout even though her body screamed something different.
"Yeah," she said, her voice scratchy. "Cinnamon would appreciate
a softer landing instead of just dropping the saddle onto his back."

She showed Hendrika how to secure the cinch, taking care not
to let their hands brush against each other.

"All right. Now up you go." She folded her hands
to form an improvised ladder for Hendrika. When Rika gathered up her skirt, Amy
dropped her gaze to the ground, not wanting to make her think she was staring
at her legs. The heat of Hendrika's hand on her shoulder seared through the
fabric of her jacket.

Hendrika finally settled into the saddle, and Amy stepped
back and took a deep breath.

One glance at Hendrika's hands clutching the reins reminded
Amy of something. "Oh. Wait." She raced to the tack room, where Mama
had hidden Hendrika's new gloves after she had brought them home from town
yesterday. Amy had wanted them to be a surprise, but she hadn't found a quiet
moment to give them to Hendrika.

Or maybe you just chickened out.

When she returned, the gloves held behind her back, Hendrika
sat stiffly in the saddle, patting Cinnamon's neck. Amy stepped up to them.
"Here."

Hendrika's fingers slid over the soft leather. "What's
this?"

"Gloves."

A tiny smile parted Hendrika's lips and gave Amy a glance at
the charming gap between her front teeth. "I can see that. But these
aren't yours, are they?"

"They're yours."

But Hendrika made no move to accept the gloves. "I
can't take them."

"Of course you can." Amy fiddled with the gloves.
"They're a thank-you for helping me save the horses from the burning
stable."

"You don't need to thank me for that. I would never
want something to happen to Cinnamon or any of the others." The still bare
fingers slid over Cinnamon's neck.

"Still." Amy didn't know what else to say. Except
for Mama and Nattie, she didn't have much practice giving presents to women.
She had always avoided it, afraid the gesture would be misunderstood.
"It's from the whole family, not just from me," she said to make it
appear less personal.

Finally, Hendrika slipped on the gloves. They were a perfect
fit. "Thank you."

*  *  *

Cinnamon moved smoothly under her, content to follow Ruby
without much direction from his inexperienced rider. Rika looked at her hand
holding the reins. The supple leather of the gloves felt good against her
fingers.

She couldn't remember ever getting such a nice gift — or any
gift at all. Even Willem had never given her more than a bouquet of flowers on
their wedding day. What meant even more to her than the gloves themselves was their
meaning. The Hamiltons accepted her presence at the ranch. Amy accepted her.
Her pleasure at the thought mixed with guilt. Every day she spent with the
Hamiltons made lying harder.

"Rika," Amy called.

Startled at the use of her nickname, Rika looked up.

Amy pointed toward the river, and Rika looked just in time
to see a beaver plunge into the water. When it was carried downstream by the
current and disappeared from sight, Rika's gaze returned to Amy.

A flush crept up Amy's neck. "I'm sorry. I heard you
mention that name to Hannah's son, but it's not proper to use it without
permission."

Rika hesitated. Few people had ever been allowed to use her
nickname.
And some of them were far less worthy than Amy,
she reminded
herself. Amy was fierce when it came to defending her home, loyal to her
family, and gentle with the animals. Her heart was in the right place, and
while Rika didn't trust her with her secret, Amy deserved at least this much of
her. "It's all right. You can call me Rika if you want."

Amy flushed again. "Really? I didn't want to assume
—"

"It's all right," Rika said. "You and your
family have been so wonderful to me."

"Oh, yeah. I put you on a horse that promptly threw you
off. I yelled at you because you fed the horses too many oats, and you were
almost burned to a crisp when you followed me into the burning barn — all
within a few short weeks. If you consider that wonderful..."

Laughter shot up Rika's chest. "Well, if you say it
like that... maybe you should call me 'Miss Bruggeman.'"

Amy blinked at her, then her tense features relaxed into a
grin, and finally, she joined in Rika's laughter. Her eyes sparkled with life.
When her laughter died down, she looked at Rika for a moment longer. "Phin
got really lucky," she murmured.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." Amy urged Ruby forward. "Did
you see the beaver?"

Rika was pretty sure Amy had just paid her a nice
compliment. Not used to compliments and unsure of how to handle them from Amy,
Rika decided to let it go. "Just for a moment before the current carried him
away. Is the river always this high this time of year?"

"No." A frown replaced Amy's carefree expression.
"The snowmelt in the mountains set in late this year, and with all the
rain we had, it adds up to this." She pointed at the fast-flowing river
that carried small trees and other debris. "But don't worry. The beaver
will be all right. They are great swimmers."

They followed a bend in the river.

Without warning, Amy stopped her mare.

"Whoa!" Rika barely managed to rein in Cinnamon in
time before they barreled into Ruby. "What's going on?"

"Stay back!" Amy shouted.

Ruby flew down the banks, leaving Rika to stare after them.

There, in the middle of the river, on a half immersed
island, stood a foal. Water crept up its trembling legs. Its mother pranced back
and forth next to the foal and tried to nudge it into the water, but the foal
refused.

They might have been there for hours while the water around
them flowed higher and higher.

With the debris in the murky stream, crossing to the bank
might be dangerous even for the mare.

Rika clutched the reins. She watched Amy wrench her lasso
from the saddle horn. But the nervous mare blocked the path to the foal. Even
if Amy's rope managed to cross the distance, it couldn't get to the foal.

Without hesitation, Amy directed her horse into the water.
Ruby waded into the brown flood. Even from the distance, Rika saw the torrent
tear at Amy's pant legs. Branches and pieces of wood bobbed on the wild waves,
making Ruby toss up her head.

Rika's heartbeat drowned out the roar of the river.
Oh,
Lord, please, don't let anything happen to her.
She exhaled a shaky breath
when Ruby finally neared the small island.

Just then, a board slammed into Ruby.

The mare reared.

The wet saddle provided no hold for Amy. She toppled
backward. A splash of water swallowed her.

"No!" Rika pressed her heels to Cinnamon's flanks.
At the riverbank, she stopped the gelding. Her gaze darted over the water.

There!

Amy crawled onto the island. She spat out a mouthful of
water and lifted up on her knees.

What now?
Rika looked around. Ruby had safely made it
to the other side of the river, unreachable for Amy and Rika at the moment. The
foal's mother waded deeper into the water, scared by Amy's sudden appearance on
their little island, but the foal still refused to wade into the river.

Water lapped at Amy's ankles as she got to her feet. She
stared at Rika, her arms dangling helplessly.

"Can you swim back?" Rika shouted. "Maybe
pull the foal along with you?"

Amy shouted something back, but the roar of the water
drowned out her voice.

"What?" Rika cupped one hand around her ear to
indicate that she hadn't understood.

"No, I can't," Amy shouted again.

What then?
Rika saw no other option. "You got a
better idea?"

Frustration carved itself onto Amy's face. "No."

"Then why not try?" With the debris bobbing in the
water, it was dangerous, but probably not as dangerous as Rika going after her.

Amy shoved wet locks out of her face. "Because I can't
swim."

"Can't swim?" Coldness spread through Rika's
limbs. Amy couldn't swim, yet she had ridden into the river to help the foal? A
lump of emotion lodged in her throat and prevented her from answering.

"Can you ride back to the ranch and bring help?"
Amy shouted.

Rika's thoughts raced. The river was still rising. Water sloshed
up the small island, crumbling its edges and causing Amy to take a step back.
By the time Rika made it back to the river with help in tow, the island would
have been swallowed up by the torrent — and with it Amy and the foal.

The image of Amy being pulled under by the merciless flood
flashed through Rika. If she couldn't swim, she would drown in a matter of
seconds. Rika clamped her hand around the reins. "I'm gonna ride over to
you."

"No!"

"Yes!"

Amy waved her hands. "This is crazy! What if you get tossed
off too?"

"At least I can swim." Unexpected anger made
Rika's voice rise over the roaring of the river. She forced herself to calm
down, having learned that horses could easily read her emotions and be affected
by them. Her feet searched for support in the stirrups, and she pressed her
legs to Cinnamon's sides. "Be a good boy now, Cin."

"Start upstream!" Amy shouted.

"What?"

"The torrent will sweep you downstream. Start higher up
the river, and let it carry you down to the island."

Rika glanced at a large branch that rushed by on the bobbing
waves.
She's right.
Tugging on the reins, she directed Cinnamon
upstream.

The gelding pranced along the riverbank, hesitating for a
few seconds, but then waded into the water. His hooves slipped on the river
bottom, and he scrambled for more secure footing, bringing them into deeper
water.

Cold water rose up her legs. Rika gasped. Her hands trembled
so much that she almost lost her grip on the reins, but then she glanced at Amy
and the foal and new determination filled her.

"Good boy." She patted Cinnamon's neck and urged
him onward. Her gaze flitted upstream, keeping watch for any large objects that
might slam into them.

The current pulled and tugged at them. Water drenched Rika
up to the hip.

Cinnamon lost his footing, and for a moment, he was
swimming.