Hidden Truths (9 page)

"You're not —"

"The cabin is fine," Hendrika said. "If you
could show me the way, I can get my things stowed away and then come back to
help with supper."

Ah.
Nora recognized the proud glint in Hendrika's
eyes. Twenty years ago, Nora would have said the same. Before she met Luke, she
had believed she had to pay for everything she received one way or another.
Love and friendship had been unfamiliar concepts for her. She hoped that as
part of the Hamilton Ranch, Hendrika Bruggeman would become familiar with both.

*  *  *

The cabin's door creaked open.

Needs to be oiled.
Rika added the first item to her
list of things she could do to help out around the ranch.

The musky smells of wood smoke, damp earth, and linseed oil
engulfed Rika as soon as she entered the cabin. Her boots stepped onto packed
earth. After the boarding house's oak floor and stone walls, the cabin's dirt
floor and rough-hewn logs would take some getting used to, but Rika knew she
would make do with whatever life threw at her.

Amy slipped past her and lit a kerosene lamp. When she
turned up the wick, the flickering light revealed a table charred black on one
side.
No cook stove.
Very likely, the cooking was done at the main
house. Shelves held broken bridles and harnesses the cabin's owner hadn't
gotten around to repairing.

A carpet might be nice. And the hearth needs to be
cleaned.

In the light of the kerosene lamp, she walked to the bedroom
while Amy followed. A brass bedstead warred for space with a low dresser, a
chest at the foot of the bed, and a washstand.

Amy's gaze followed Rika's, and she looked as if she was
trying to see the small cabin through Rika's eyes. She cleared her throat.
"I know it's not much. It was the first home my father built when we
arrived in Oregon, so it's rather simple."

"It's quite all right," Rika said. "I didn't
live in a palace in Boston either." Her words brought with them the image
of a dilapidated house and of nights lying awake, listening to rain drip
through the leaky roof while Willem was out drinking.

White teeth flashed in the low light when Amy chewed on her
lip. "Maybe Mama was right. If you want, you can have my room in the main
house and I could sleep over here."

That wasn't what Amy's mother had suggested. Why would Amy
rather give up her room than share it with Rika? Rika drew her brows together.
Had she done anything to make Amy suspicious? Or did Amy simply dislike
strangers or women from the East?

"No, thank you," Rika answered. "If your
family lived here once, I'll be fine here too." If she stayed at the
cabin, she could at least get used to her new home before having to share it
with the stranger who would become her husband.

Rika set down her carpetbag at the foot of the bed and
pulled out her only clean skirt. When she peeked into the pitcher on the
washstand, she found that it still held some water that smelled fresh enough.
She poured the water into the bowl and looked around for a piece of soap and a
towel.

"Here." Amy, apparently familiar with where things
were kept in the cabin, handed her a towel and soap. "I'll go and look in
on the horses before supper. The gray mare needs some ointment."

The door closed behind her before Rika could answer.

*  *  *

Rika stared at the ranch hands, who laughed and teased
during supper. She watched Amy and her dark-haired sister, Nattie, heap second
helpings of chicken and dumplings onto their plates, not afraid of being
thought unladylike.

Story after story distracted her, and Rika paused with her
fork halfway to her mouth. In her family, meals had been a silent affair, the
children too afraid of angering their father by chattering on and on.

Fear and silence didn't rule this family, though.

"They named her Emeline Anna Buchanan, after her
grandmother," Nattie said. "Little Emmy took quite a long time to
arrive. Twenty hours of labor! Can you believe it?"

"I sure can." Her mother grinned. "It took
you all night to be born too. And we were stuck in the middle of the Blue
Mountains, with no neighbors, midwives, or doctors around. Your father was a
mess."

Everyone around the table laughed as if it was common
knowledge and they had all teased Mr. Hamilton about it a thousand times.

"Twenty hours," Amy mumbled. "Then I'd rather
have a foal than a baby. Horses are quick about it. No big fuss."

Her mother looked up with twinkling eyes. "That's what
you said when your sister was born too. You asked your father if you could have
a filly instead."

"Thanks a lot, Amy." Nattie pinched her sister.

Plates rattled when Amy's knee hit the table.

"Everything all right with the food, Hendrika?"
Nora asked. "You're not eating."

Rika stared at her food. "Oh, no, the food is
wonderful. I'm just a bit worn out from the long journey."

The gaze of Nattie's probing gray-green eyes met Rika.
"You've certainly come a long way just to marry a stranger. A ranch in
Oregon is a far cry from Boston."

She's testing me.
Rika clamped her hand around the
fork. "It sure is," she said as evenly as she could. "And I'm
looking forward to it."

"But if you are to marry a ranch hand, are you sure you
won't come to resent him if you have to live without all the amenities in
Boston?" Nattie's brow knitted, but her eyes shone. "I hear they even
have gas streetlamps in Boston."

Rika took a bite of chicken and nodded. "Yes, but that
doesn't mean life in Boston is easy. The gas lighting is also used in the
cotton mill, making it possible to work until late into the night. Believe me,
I'm no stranger to hard work."

"What's gotten into you, Nattie?" Nora shook her
head at her daughter. "Stop questioning the poor girl like that. I'm sure
she'll make a wonderful wife for Phin." When Nattie lowered her gaze, Nora
turned to Rika. "You said in your letters you were born in Holland?"

Rika's throat constricted and made the chicken hard to
swallow.
Oh, gracious. She read Jo's letters... and I didn't.
Rika knew
only Phineas's end of the conversation, not what Jo had told him about herself.
Her appetite was gone, but she shoved another piece of chicken into her mouth
to indicate that she was too busy to give long answers. Again, she just nodded.

"What's Holland like?" Nattie asked, friendlier
this time. "Does it look a little like Oregon?"

Jo would know.
Unlike Rika, Jo's family had sailed to
America when she was ten, so she remembered Holland well. Rika's home, however,
had always been Boston.

Her father rarely talked about the past. Only sometimes,
when he was sober, had he told her stories about her mother and about their
home in Holland. Rika tried to remember but was distracted when she found she
couldn't recall her mother's face. The only picture of her mother had stayed
behind when Rika had left her family.

Curious gazes rested on her, and Rika pulled herself
together. "It's not like Oregon at all. It's a flat land, with almost no
hills." Her mind flashed back to snowcapped Mount Hood, which Amy had
pointed out on the way to the ranch. Rika's parents had grown up without ever
laying eyes on such a mountain. "There's water everywhere — rivers,
canals, lakes, and the North Sea. Windmills pump water out of the polders that
keep the land from flooding."

Rika remembered the drawing in their parlor. Her mother had
penciled in an endless sky, rippling water, and numerous green windmills
dotting the landscape.

"You miss it," Amy said from the other side of the
table. It was the first time during supper that she addressed Rika directly.

How can I miss what I don't even remember?

She looked at Amy, who glanced at her plate. "It was a
long time ago. I'm sure I will feel right at home here."

"
W
HOO,
HOO-HOO, hooo." The owl's call greeted Amy when she stepped onto the
veranda. She peered into the darkness but couldn't make out the bird. It was
probably perched on a branch somewhere, waiting to swoop down on unsuspecting
prey. Amy knew it was the male, because she had observed them many times. Owls
mated for life. Now he was out hunting food for the female, who sat on eggs in
their nest.

Kind of like Papa,
she thought with a smile. Unlike
the lady owl, the Hamilton women weren't just sitting around, waiting for him
to get back, though. Amy had a ranch to run, and the responsibility of it kept
her up at night. She held out her hand and felt soft drizzle touch her
fingertips.
If the rain keeps up, I'll have to bring in the herd from the
east pasture. And someone needs to check on the yearlings.

With Kit, Charlie, and Phin gone, they were short on ranch
hands. She had to time all the different tasks just right to make sure
everything got done. Worry gnawed at her. Papa had taught her well, but would
the ranch hands think so too? Hank and Toby would probably go along with her
orders, if only out of respect for Papa. But what about Adam? Whenever Papa
handed out tasks that required two people to work together, Adam made sure he
was already partnered with another ranch hand so he wouldn't need to work with
Amy. But now that she was the boss, he couldn't avoid her any longer.

I need to show him that I won't allow him to question my
authority.

Amy glanced at the dark sky. A curtain of clouds hid the
twinkling stars, offering no guidance.

The door to Phin's cabin opened, and a ray of light danced
across the ranch yard. Hendrika stepped outside.

Quickly, Amy took a step back, seeking refuge in the
darkness.

Hendrika directed her gaze at the sky.

Was she seeking guidance too? Or maybe she was just enjoying
the fresh air after being stuck in a stuffy stagecoach all day. Amy didn't
know. She often found she didn't understand other women at all.

When Hendrika retreated into the cabin, Amy turned and
headed inside too. Tomorrow would be a long, hard day, and if she wanted to
prove herself to the ranch hands, she needed to get some sleep.

*  *  *

Rika trudged across the ranch yard in the gray light of
dawn. After a sleepless night, her eyes burned as if all the trail dust from
Boston to Oregon had accumulated in them, but she forced herself to keep
moving. Seeking out work instead of waiting for orders had served her well so
far. It had gotten her promoted from the dusty roving room to the weave room
with its tidy aisles and better light, and it would help her establish herself
as a hardworking, reliable woman — good wife material — before Phineas came
home.

She rubbed some color into her cheeks and knocked on the
main house's door.

It opened, and Nora stood in the doorway, drying her hands
on her apron. "Oh, good morning. Come on in." She held the door open
for Rika. "I hope you slept well."

"Like a baby," Rika answered.
Well, like a
colicky baby,
she added, but she couldn't explain why she was so nervous
about the future. Besides, she found it hard to fall asleep in such a quiet
place, with no clatter from the street and no mill girls snoring and coughing.

When Rika entered the kitchen, Nattie gave her a quick wave
before she turned back to the stove.

Bacon sizzled in a frying pan, and the smell made Rika's
mouth water. "Can I help in any way?"

Nora pulled a baking pan of golden-brown biscuits from the
oven and gestured to the china cabinet. "You could just sit and relax, but
if you want to, you could set the table."

Rika took the stack of plates and set them on the table the
way she remembered from supper.

"Oh, no, it's just us this morning," Nora said.
"One of our neighbors came over before sunrise to tell us that our fence
is down in the western pasture. Amy and the boys already left to mend it, and
they won't be back until later."

Amy and the boys
. Did Amy really do a man's work
around the ranch? Did the Hamiltons think nothing of letting their daughter
tame wild horses and mend fences?

She had barely seen Amy since she had arrived, but it was
hard to tell whether it was ranch work that kept Amy so busy or if she was
avoiding Rika for some reason. While Nora was very welcoming, her daughters
seemed more ambivalent about her presence.

"I have to pay a visit to our neighbors today,"
Nora said when they sat down for breakfast. "I promised Ruth to come see
the baby as soon as it was born, but I put it off yesterday because I didn't
want you to arrive to an empty house."

A piece of egg almost lodged in Rika's throat.
She stayed
home to make me feel welcome?
No one had ever changed her plans because of
her. Maybe Nora was just being nice to make up for Phineas's absence.

"I can't put it off again today," Nora said,
"but I thought you might like to come with me and meet the
neighbors."

Rika clamped her hand around her fork. Meeting the neighbors
would mean answering more questions about her past and having to come up with
more lies. "Oh, I thought I'd clean the cabin today."

"Are you sure you don't want to wait and have some help
with that?"

"I could help her, Mama," Nattie said before Rika
could answer.

The offer was polite, but Rika didn't want to be a burden.
"That's nice of you, but I'm sure you have your own chores."

Nora tilted her head. "Yes, you do, Nattie. If I'm not
back on time, I'll need you to prepare supper. I haven't seen Ruth and Emeline
in ages, and if the pastor comes over to see the baby, I'm sure he'll keep me
there all afternoon, trying to convince me to take over teaching school
again."

Teach school?
Since when did married women teach
school? Rika had gone to school for four years, and no female teacher ever
stayed on after getting married. The West was truly a strange place.