Authors: Jae
"There are two men buried in Fort Boise who thought the
same thing," Mama answered.
A shiver ran down Amy's spine. Mama had never sounded so
cold or so determined.
Is she bluffing, or did she really shoot two men?
Her
parents rarely talked about the past, but Mama's cool gaze and steady grip on
the rifle made Amy think she was telling the truth.
Fire flared in Adam's eyes, but finally he lowered his
revolver. He slid out of the saddle, jerked the cinch free, and threw his
saddle over his shoulder. "You'll regret this."
The barrel of Mama's rifle followed him until he disappeared
into the falling darkness.
"
C
OME
HERE AND SIT down," Nora said before Amy could run out to take care of yet
another chore. Amy had been keeping busy, avoiding the other women on the ranch
since her confrontation with Adam two hours before.
Amy didn't stop. "Not now, Mama. I have to —"
"You have to sit your behind down on that chair and
listen to me." Nora steeled her gaze. "You might run this ranch right
now, but I'm still your mother."
Amy swallowed. She crossed the room to Luke's favorite
armchair, making Nora smile. Both of her daughters had done that since they
were tall enough to climb into Luke's armchair on their own. It seemed to be a
place of comfort for them.
The tendons in Amy's hands stood out when she sank into
Luke's chair and gripped the armrests.
"What happened?" Nora asked. She had already heard
most of it from Nattie and Hank, but now she wanted Amy's version of the story.
"I found a mustang stallion by the river today. I told
Hank and Adam to capture him. Instead, Adam shot him!" Sparks of outrage
shot from Amy's eyes. "When I called him on it, he said he won't let a
woman order him around."
Nora had seen it coming, and she knew Luke expected it too.
Sooner or later, they would come across a ranch hand who refused to take orders
from a woman — not knowing that he had been receiving orders from a woman all
along. "Then maybe it's a good thing that he's gone. Because on this
ranch, my word has always counted as much as your father's."
A grim smile formed on Amy's lips. "Yeah. Good riddance
to him."
"What happened between you and Hendrika?" Nora
asked. Hendrika had disappeared into her cabin right after Nora arrived at the
ranch, and she hadn't seen her since. "Nattie said you shouted at
her?"
"Of course I shouted!" Amy leaned forward as if
she wanted to jump up and pace. "First, she put Cinnamon in danger, now
she almost killed Pirate and Snowflake!"
"She didn't do it on purpose, Amy."
Amy snorted. "She filled their mangers with oats. To
the brim!"
"Sounds like something a certain Amy Hamilton once did
when she was trying to help her father," Nora said.
The muscles in Amy's jaw bunched. "I was six years
old!"
"You almost killed poor Measles." Nora forced
herself to continue even when Amy blanched. "Your father had to walk her
around all night. What did he do when he came back in? Did he hit you?"
"What?" Amy's eyes widened. They both knew Luke
had never raised a hand against her daughters. "No, of course not!"
"Did he yell at you?"
Amy shook her head.
"He hugged you and held you while you sobbed your
little heart out," Nora said what her proud daughter didn't want to admit.
"He didn't yell at you, because he knew you meant to help and didn't know
any better."
"Hendrika is a grown woman, not a six-year-old,"
Amy said.
"She's a grown woman who has left behind her home to
live with strangers," Nora said. "You of all people should know how
it feels not to fit in. Hendrika just wants to earn our respect."
"Almost killing two of our best mares is not the way to
do that," Amy grumbled.
"So she made a mistake." Nora reached over and
tapped Amy on the knee to make her look at her. "You made a few mistakes
too. You reacted completely on impulse, like you often do."
Amy opened her mouth to defend herself.
"Let me finish." Nora raised her hand to stop
Amy's protests. "That's not a bad thing. Most of the time, it works out
well for you because you have a good heart and good instincts. But sometimes
you need to stop and think before you act, especially now that you are running
the ranch."
The conversation wasn't new. Luke had told Amy the same.
"You showed some bad judgment today and based your
decisions on all the wrong reasons."
This time, Amy didn't try to interrupt. She hung her head as
if Nora had slapped her.
Nora's stomach clenched, but this needed to be said. Her
daughter still had a lot to learn, and Nora was as responsible for teaching her
as Luke was. "You decided to take Hendrika with you to prove yourself to
Adam — just like Hendrika wanted to prove herself. You wanted to show him who's
boss, so you put an inexperienced girl from the city on a horse without giving
her a proper lesson first. For heaven's sake, Amy, she could have been
killed!"
"Hendrika lied to me. She told me she'd been on a horse
before."
"Having been on a horse and knowing how to ride are two
different things, you know that," Nora said. "You're experienced
enough to take one look and know that she was lying. But you didn't want to
know, did you? You didn't want to take the time to turn around."
Amy pressed her lips together and remained silent.
"Amy..." Nora took a breath and tried to keep her
voice calm. "You train horses every day. I've seen you standing patiently
in the rain for hours just to teach Pirate to pick up her feet. Why can't you
have the same patience with Hendrika? She didn't grow up around horses. How is
she supposed to know if you don't teach her?"
Amy looked away. "Why do I have to be the one to teach
her?"
"Because you are the best person for it," Nora
said. "I was so proud when you taught Bernice's grandchildren how to ride.
Why not teach Hendrika?"
"I have my hands full running the ranch, Mama."
True. Still, Nora sensed that there was more to it than just
that. "What is it about Hendrika that makes you so uncomfortable? Last
fall, when Bernice's oldest grandson stayed with us to help with the roundup,
you had the patience of a saint with him. You taught that boy so much he could
probably hire on as a ranch hand if he wanted to. You always enjoy showing
others around the ranch and teaching them to ride. Why is it so different with
Hendrika? You aren't jealous because she'll marry Phin, are you?"
Amy snorted. "Mama, please."
When Amy and Phin had become friends, Luke had hoped they
would end up getting married. Phin was almost like a son, and he would have run
the ranch in the future without trying to keep Amy chained to the kitchen. But
despite those hopes, neither Amy nor Phin had ever shown romantic interest in
each other.
"Then you shouldn't have a problem with Hendrika's
presence here," Nora said.
"I don't."
The lie was obvious, but Nora let it go for now. "Go
and talk to her. And take this with you." She pressed a jar of ointment
into Amy's hand.
Amy frowned.
"From what Nattie said, Hendrika probably has a few
blisters on her hands. She mucked out the stalls almost by herself." From
the kitchen, the delicious smell of stew wafted over. "Oh, and bring her
some of the stew. I doubt Hendrika feels up to having supper with the whole
family."
Amy stood and walked to the door. When she reached it, she
turned around. "Did you really shoot two men in Fort Boise?"
Nora wanted to forget about her past, but Luke and she had
promised each other early on that there would be no unnecessary lies in their
family. The necessary ones were hard enough to handle. "Yes." She
held Amy's gaze. "I had no other choice. They wanted to kill your
father."
"What? Why?"
Nora smiled despite the seriousness of the topic.
She
wants to appear so strong, but, Lord, she's got a soft heart. She can't imagine
why anyone would want to kill another person.
"It all started when Luke stopped Emeline's husband
from beating up on her again," Nora answered, remembering those days in
the distant past.
Amy's brows drew together. "Tom beat up his wife?"
"No. Not Tom. Back then, Emeline was married to her
first husband, who was... well, let's just say he was as different from your
father as a man can possibly be. When he attacked Luke in revenge, I had to
shoot him." The scar on Luke's shoulder reminded her of it every day.
"Tom took Emeline on as his housekeeper after his wife died. They only got
married years later."
"Then Emeline is not really Clay, Zeke, and Ruth's
mother? She's not little Emmy's real grandmother?"
The tone of Amy's voice sent goose bumps across Nora's skin.
"Emeline stayed at Zeke's bed for almost a week when he came down with the
flu. She convinced Tom to let Clay go and work for the railroad, and she helped
Ruth give birth to her first child — guess that gives her the right to call
herself their mother."
"Guess so," Amy said but didn't look convinced.
As a horse breeder, Amy was used to thinking that only blood
relationships determined parenthood. Nora prayed that Amy would never find out
Luke hadn't fathered them — or worse, wasn't even a man.
Amy took one more step toward the door and then hesitated.
"Thank you for helping me with Adam. That situation could have gotten
ugly."
Despite the relief in her voice, the tension never left
Amy's shoulders.
"Come here." Nora crossed the room and pulled her
unresisting daughter into a tight embrace. "I'm your mother and I love
you. You never have to say thank you for me helping you out. You don't need to
run this ranch on your own, all right?"
Amy wasn't a little girl anymore. Their tight embrace made
Nora aware that her daughter was now half an inch taller than she. Still, one
thing hadn't changed: she would never allow anyone to harm her daughters. If
Adam had aimed his weapon at Amy, she would have shot him.
"All right," Amy whispered and stepped back.
"Then will you go and apologize to Hendrika for me?"
Nora smiled. "Sorry. You're on your own with that."
* * *
The pounding of Amy's heart almost drowned out the sound of
her knuckles rapping at the cabin's door.
Don't be ridiculous.
She'd
faced wild horses and angry bulls without being afraid. Hendrika was just a
woman.
And maybe that's the problem.
When Hendrika opened the door, Amy forced away her
distracting thoughts. "Um," she said. "Can I come in for a
minute?" She'd rather not have to humiliate herself in front of her ranch
hands should one of them happen to walk across the ranch yard.
Hendrika backed away from the door. "Of course. This is
your family's cabin."
Was that how she came across to Hendrika? Like the stallion
of a herd, driving all others from his territory? Her reluctance to welcome
Hendrika with open arms wasn't about ownership, but she couldn't tell her that.
"It's your home now. I wanted to tell you that our men
found Cinnamon. He's fine."
"Thank God." Hendrika pressed a hand to her chest.
The last remains of Amy's anger faded. Hendrika cared about
Cinnamon.
I better not tell her about the stallion right now.
She
felt guilty enough about it, so she could imagine how Hendrika might feel.
"Here." She handed Hendrika a still steaming bowl of stew.
"You're welcome to eat with us in the main house, of course, but Mama
thought you might like to stay in and get some rest."
Wordlessly, Rika took the bowl.
The silence between them pressed down on Amy. Her gaze
darted around the cabin. "The place looks great. Phin never got it to look
so homey."
Rika nodded.
"Want me to eat a little?" Amy pointed at the stew
and directed a hesitant grin at Hendrika. "To prove that I didn't poison
it."
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Hendrika's lips,
but sorrow still reflected in her eyes. "I know you are angry, and you
have every right to be," Hendrika said. "Lying to you about knowing
how to ride and feeding horses when I know nothing about them is a dumb idea.
It's just that I —"
Amy lifted her hands. "No. I mean, yes, it was pretty
dumb and I was angry, but for the most part, I was angry at myself and I took
it out on you. I'm sorry." Being honest with Hendrika and with herself was
a relief, but at the same time, she felt like a heel for acting like that in
the first place.
"Angry at yourself?" Hendrika asked. Her eyes
still hadn't lost their cautious expression.
"I shouldn't have taken you with me. My papa never lets
a green rider leave the ranch yard." Her stomach churned at the thought of
how disappointed Papa would be if he knew. Nothing seemed to be going right
since Papa had left.
"Can I ask you something?"
Amy tensed. "Sure," she said, not feeling sure at
all.
"Why did your father leave you in charge of the
ranch?"
Every muscle in Amy's body stiffened. Having her competence
questioned by Adam was hard enough to swallow, but coming from Hendrika, it
made her even more defensive.
"I mean," Hendrika continued, "you seem to
know a lot about horses, but you're a woman and you're still fairly young. Why
didn't your father have Phineas taking over if he's your foreman?"
Amy hadn't questioned her father's decision. She accepted
his explanation that he needed his best man to bring the horses to Fort Boise.
Is
Papa testing me?
Did he want to show her that she wasn't up to running the
ranch and should get married, just as everyone else said?
No. Papa had never told her she couldn't do something
because she was a woman. Papa believed in her. Maybe she needed to learn to
believe in herself too.