Hidden Truths (5 page)

"There are a few."

Phin snorted. "Yeah, the likes of Ella Williams and
Fanny Henderson. No, thanks."

"So you thought you'd just order yourself a woman from
the catalog, like you'd order a new saddle?"

"What's a feller to do if he's aimin' to marry? Since
you won't have me."

His grin was contagious. Amy could never stay angry with her
friend for long. "So... Johanna Bruggeman." She risked another quick
glance at the picture of the smiling woman. "Is that a German name?"

"Dutch." Phin's grin grew, as if being Dutch was a
great accomplishment.

Lord, he's smitten, and he hasn't even met her.

The thought of another woman on the ranch still unsettled
her, and she watched in silence as Phin continued to shave.

Somehow, his simple, efficient movements seemed wrong, maybe
because he was shaving himself. Amy had watched her parents share this private
ritual almost every day for as long as she could remember.

Papa sat in the kitchen, and Mama lathered his face with the
shaving soap, sometimes sneaking a kiss when she thought their daughters
weren't watching. Amy always watched. She knew she was witnessing something
special, something that bound her parents to each other. Trust glowed in Papa's
eyes when he let Mama put the razor to his neck.

A sudden longing for that kind of trust overcame Amy. She
shook it off and focused on Phin.

For Phin, shaving seemed to be a necessary evil. There was
nothing gentle or loving about the way he scraped lather and stubbles off his
cheeks and his strong chin.

Maybe he really needs a wife.

"So when is she coming here?" Amy asked.

"Well..." Phin wiped off the rest of the shaving
soap and twirled his handlebar mustache. Amy often teased him about it. She
liked Papa's clean-shaven look better. "I wanted to talk to you about
that. If the stagecoach is on time, she'll get here Monday afternoon."

Meaningful silence spread between them.

"Monday afternoon? But —"

"I'm supposed to leave for Fort Boise with your father
on Monday morning, yes."

This was her chance! Amy hid a grin and tried for
nonchalance. "Oh, not a problem. I'll help Papa bring the horses to Fort
Boise, and you can pick up your bride from town on Monday afternoon."

Phin cleared his throat. "That's not what I meant, and
you'd have to discuss that with your father."

Who would say no. Not because traveling four hundred miles
with a herd of horses was a man's job. Papa never told her something like that.
He would say that she wasn't ready for the trip, not while there was unrest
among the Shoshoni, and that he wanted her to keep an eye on the ranch while he
was gone.

"So what did you mean?" Amy asked.

"If it ain't too much to ask, you could put on your
Sunday finery and pick up my future wife from town while I'm gone."

That meant wearing a dress and facing the nosy folks in
town, not two of Amy's favorite activities. Still, Phin was her best friend.

"Please?" He grinned his most charming smile.
"I don't trust any of the boys with her."

Asking her to pick up his betrothed so she would be safe from
unwanted attentions... Amy shook her head. Phin didn't understand the irony of
it.

"All right," she said. Something occurred to her.
"So your courtship consisted of writing letters, right? How did you manage
that? I know you can't write."

"I'm learnin'. Miss Nattie is teaching me."

"Really? But you always said you'd rather spend winter
evenings repairing broken bridles than studying words on a page."

Phin shrugged. "Changed my mind. Miss Nattie's a great
teacher."

"Nattie helped you advertise for a wife?"

"Oh, no." Phin rubbed his palms over freshly
shaven cheeks. "I wouldn't bother her with that. Your mother helped. But
Miss Nattie knew."

"Mama and Nattie knew all this time, but you never said
one word to me?"

"Miss Nattie heard it from the postmaster. The damn
gossip told half of Oregon that I'm gettin' letters from a lady in Boston. I
thought maybe you'd heard it around town too."

"Not a word," Amy grumbled but swallowed her hurt
feelings. After all, Phin wasn't to blame for her reluctance to visit town. She
tried to stay away from Hannah and the other young women who always knew the
latest rumors.

Phin scratched his chin and added, "I thought you
aren't interested in affairs of the heart things."

True. She had never given him reason to think otherwise. She
and Phin talked about horses but rarely discussed feelings.

When she stayed silent, Phin ducked to look into her face.
"Are you mad at me for not telling you sooner?"

"No," she said. She wasn't mad, just a bit hurt
and strangely unsettled. Sharing her home with a beautiful young woman could
mean trouble.

*  *  *

"Listen up, boys," Luke Hamilton said. Decades-old
habits made her square her shoulders to appear bigger than she was. "Phin
and I will leave tomorrow. Amy is in charge while we're gone." She let her
gaze sweep over the ranch hands perched on their bunks and standing around the
bunkhouse's cast-iron stove. "Anyone have a problem riding for a
woman?"

The ranch hands had worked side by side with Amy every day
for the past few years, but working with her and working for her were two
different things.

Most of the men shook their heads.

"No problem, boss," Hank said.

Adam spat out a stream of chewing tobacco, earning him a
sharp glare from Luke. If anyone gave Amy trouble, it would be Adam. She stared
at him until he looked away.

"Amy's just in charge until you get back, right?"
Emmett asked, shuffling his feet. "It's just for two months."

Luke suppressed a grin. They had no idea they had worked for
a woman much longer than that. To the world, she was Lucas Hamilton — rancher,
husband, and father. Only three people knew that she was not what she appeared
to be: her wife Nora, their neighbor Bernice Garfield, and Tess, Luke's oldest
friend.

"For now," she said. Maybe one day, Amy would be
able to do what Luke couldn't: run the ranch as a woman.

When no one protested, Luke gave some last-minute
instructions and then left the bunkhouse.

Darkness had fallen, and a myriad of stars twinkled down at
her. Luke lifted her head and inhaled the tangy aroma of pines, manure, and
sage from Nora's herb garden. A horse's whinny cut through the sounds of a
gurgling spring and a hooting owl. Luke wandered across the ranch yard to check
on the horses one last time.

The place in front of the corral was already occupied. Amy
stood with her elbows on the top rail and one booted foot propped on the bottom
rung. She didn't turn around when Luke joined her.

Side by side, they watched the dark shapes of the horses
move around the corral.

Midnight wandered over and snuffled Amy's sleeve. She patted
the gelding's neck and combed her fingers through his forelock. "Did you
talk to the men?"

"Yes. They know you're in charge."

"Good."

Luke turned to look at Amy and leaned her shoulder against
the corral. "You nervous?"

"No," Amy said quickly — too quickly.

"Because if you were, I'd certainly understand. I was
about your age when I earned my lieutenant stripes. Suddenly, I was expected to
command a troop of soldiers, some of them much older and more experienced than
me."

Amy leaned against the corral too so that they were face to
face. "Were you nervous?"

"Terrified," Luke said. Not so much about not
measuring up, of course. Back then, her worst fear was being injured so badly
that surgeons discovered her secret. "There's no shame in being afraid,
Amy. The trick is not to let it paralyze you."

The white of Amy's eyes gleamed in the darkness. Her chaps
scratched along the corral post as she shifted. "I'm a bit nervous,"
she finally said. "But you don't need to worry. I won't disappoint you, Papa."

"I know." Luke wrapped her arm around Amy's
shoulder and squeezed, as always surprised to feel sturdy muscles under her
hand. When had the little girl who begged her for a ride on Measles become this
strong young woman?

She sighed. She'd miss her daughters — and Nora, of course.
"Come on." She gave Amy one more pat to the shoulder. "Let's go
to bed. We both have a long day tomorrow."

*  *  *

Nora folded strips of cloth and handed them to Luke, who
stowed them in her saddlebags. "Put them at the bottom so no one will
see," Nora said.

"Not necessary," Luke answered. "If one of
the boys finds the rags, I'll just tell them those are compresses should one of
the horses get hurt." She winked and leaned down to brush her lips over
Nora's.

But this time, not even the warmth of the kiss could chase
away Nora's worries. She entwined her fingers with Luke's, lifted one palm to
her lips, and kissed the familiar criss-crossed pattern of scars and rope
burns. "I wish you didn't have to go."

Luke stroked the back of her fingers over Nora's cheek.
"I wish I could stay, but you know we need the money if we want to invest
in draft horses."

"I regret ever suggesting that." If anything
happened to Luke on the way to Fort Boise, she would never forgive herself.

"Hey, don't talk like that," Luke said.
"You're a clever businesswoman and have never steered us wrong in all
these years. Now that the railroad is coming, investing in draft horses is a
brilliant idea. If we sell enough horses to be able to invest in Belgians and
Percherons, the ranch will prosper."

"It's only brilliant if nothing happens to you,"
Nora said.

"We'll be careful and post guards at night."

"The trip holds more dangers for you than just Indians
and horse thieves." Every muscle in Nora's body felt tight like a rope
that was trying to hold a panicked mustang. "You'll have to live in very
close quarters with Phin, Charlie, and Kit for over two months. There'll be no
outhouse, no bedroom with a sturdy lock, no privacy to change clothes, wash, or
take care of private matters."

Luke slid her arms around Nora and held her close. "I
admit I haven't had to do that in a while, but you know I've lived among men
before. People see what they think is true, not what's really there. And I'm
the boss, so I can decide when to scout ahead or leave camp under the pretense
of hunting for game. I've always been good at slipping away from camp."

"Oh, yeah?" Amusement bubbled up. "Is that
why you were shot by our own guard when you slipped away to follow the call of
nature?" Nora brushed her lips against Luke's upper arm, where an old scar
reminded of that day seventeen years ago.

Groaning, Luke rubbed her nose. "Thanks for the
reminder of that glorious moment."

Nora laughed, then moved back to look into Luke's eyes. The
rain cloud gray told her that Luke was as worried as she was; she just didn't
want to admit it. "Come on." She tugged on Luke's hand. "Let's
go to bed." She wanted to hold Luke and pretend that she'd never have to
let go.

Luke walked around the bed and tested the door to make sure
it was locked. Only then did she slip out of her clothes.

In the flickering light of the kerosene lamp, Nora watched
as Luke unwrapped the bandages around her chest until she revealed small
breasts, pale against the darker color of her arms.

Nora licked her suddenly dry lips.

When Luke slipped her nightshirt over her head, Nora changed
into her own nightgown, pulled the pins from her hair, and reached for her
hairbrush.

"Let me," Luke said. Slowly, tenderly, she trailed
the brush through Nora's hair, often pausing to disentangle an unruly strand
with her fingers or massage Nora's scalp.

The first time Luke had reached for the brush and taken over
the nightly task had surprised Nora. She knew it had surprised Luke too. Luke's
days were spent in the saddle, working with horses or splitting logs to build
fences — tasks that were the epitome of masculinity. She spent so much time
convincing others she was a man that sometimes it became hard to tell what was
a mask and what was real.

But after a few years, with the bedroom door closed behind
them, Luke allowed herself the feminine pleasure of trailing the brush through
Nora's locks.

Luke set the brush down and lifted Nora's hair. Warm lips
pressed kisses to the nape of Nora's neck, making her shiver. She gasped as
Luke nipped her earlobe.

"Turn out the light," Luke whispered. "I
wanna say a proper good-bye."

Without hesitation, Nora lifted the lamp's glass shade, blew
out the flame, and slid into Luke's arms.

*  *  *

Dancer turned his head and whinnied at the horses in the
corral, not pleased to leave the protection of his herd.

"I know, boy." Luke patted the gelding's neck, and
when she felt him exhale, she tightened the cinch. She wasn't eager to leave
her family either.

Hank walked over and handed her a canteen. "Here,
boss."

"Thanks." Luke looped it over her saddle horn.
"We're leaving now. You have your instructions."

Hank nodded, and Luke wondered if he would accept Amy's
orders as easily.
Only one way to find out.

Soft steps padded over the veranda, and Luke knew without
looking that Nora was watching her. Luke felt the gaze rest on her like a
loving touch. One more tug on the cinch and she stepped away from the gelding.

The dreaded moment had come.

Luke turned, her glance touching everything they had
established in seventeen years of hard work: the main house, two large horse
barns, a bunkhouse, Phin's cabin, a blacksmith's shop, and a dozen other
outbuildings.

All that could continue to prosper and grow — if she made
the right decisions at this critical time.

In front of the veranda, she stopped and met Nora's gaze.
They stood in silence for long moments. Luke didn't need words to know Nora's
heart ached too. She stepped closer and slipped both arms around Nora, who
stood on the top step of the veranda.