Authors: Jae
But instead of the coyote she expected, Tess closed the
outhouse door behind her.
"Hunter!" Rika yelled at the dog. "Quit
making such a ruckus. You know Tess isn't an intruder."
Hunter trotted back to Rika. His wagging tail beat against
her skirt, and Rika reached down to scratch behind his ears.
Slowly, keeping an eye on the dog, Tess walked up to them.
"I'm impressed. He listens to you."
"He's gotten used to having me around, and Amy let me
feed him a few times, so now he wants to stay in my good graces." Rika
weaved her fingers through his shaggy coat. "My first week here, he
started barking every time I came near the henhouse too."
"He's defending his home," Tess said. She reached
down and let Hunter sniff one of her fair hands. "Speaking of home, is it
really all right with you to stay with Amy? When you agreed to let us have the
cabin, you probably thought we'd stay just a night or two. But now it's been
ten days, and I know that's not what you expected. If it's a problem, we can
figure out some place else for us to stay."
"Oh, no, it's fine. That way, I can keep a closer eye
on Amy." And Amy really needed someone looking after her. When Rika hadn't
paid attention, she had ridden out with Frankie despite Rika's warning to stay
out of the saddle.
A golden eyebrow arched, and something in Tess's expression
made blood rush to Rika's face. "It's fine," Rika said again.
"If Phineas is anything like the Hamiltons, he wouldn't want it any other
way."
Tess's gaze probed hers. "Are you looking forward to
meeting him?"
Am I?
Part of her was curious to meet Phineas since
Amy and the rest of the family spoke highly of him, but another, bigger part of
her dreaded his return. As if acting on a silent pact, Amy and she never talked
about her betrothal, so on most days she could forget what had brought her to
Oregon. For the first time in her life, she was free to be herself — not the
dutiful daughter, the tireless nurse, or the diligent mill girl. Here, her
worth wasn't measured by how much work she could do. Phineas's return would
force her to prove herself again and to take on yet another role, that of Jo
Bruggeman.
"I don't know." She lifted her shoulders, then let
them drop. "I don't know him, so I'm not sure what to expect. I know some
people think becoming a mail-order bride is unusual or even immoral, but
—"
A soft touch on her forearm interrupted her. "I'm not
judging you," Tess said. "God knows, I have no right to judge anyone
for her life choices. It's just that you seem," she shrugged,
"conflicted about it."
Rika blinked. Was she that easy to read?
Dozens of answers ran through Rika's mind, all of them lies
that sounded plausible and would get Tess to stop asking questions. But
something in the blue eyes made her discard the lies and tell the truth.
"I've been married once before, and I know life as a widowed woman, all
alone. I barely made enough for a living in Boston, and I lived in fear of
losing my place in the cotton mill every day. I thought marrying a perfect
stranger couldn't be any worse than what I've already been through."
"But?"
Now, after a few weeks at the ranch, she felt as if she had
found a place where she wanted to stay and people to whom she might belong some
day. The thought of moving away made her heart heavy.
Before she was forced to voice her thoughts, hoofbeats
interrupted.
Amy and Frankie swept into the ranch yard and pulled their
horses to a stop in a cloud of dust.
At the sight, Rika's heartbeat sped up.
Lord, she's so
stubborn.
She had told Amy to stay out of the saddle, and here she was,
racing with Frankie. Before Amy could dismount, Rika was at her side.
Ruby flicked her ears in Rika's direction, and she slowed
her approach. The mare tugged at the bit and lifted her head to look at Rika. A
speck of greenish-white foam landed on Rika's sleeve, and she rubbed it away.
This was not a leisurely ride.
Rika squinted as if
taking aim at Amy. Still in the saddle, Amy towered over her. Rika craned her
neck to look into her eyes. "Didn't I tell you not to ride for a
while?"
Amy shoved her hat back and let it dangle from her back. The
temper people usually associated with her hair color sparked in her eyes.
"You're not my mother."
Rika pressed her hands to her stomach as if an unexpected
punch had hit her. "I thought I was your friend."
The muscles around Amy's mouth and eyes loosened. "You
are. I'm sorry. It's just that Frankie wants to buy Mouse, and I wanted to give
her a chance to see how far she has come in her training. It's been ten days,
so my ribs should be fine."
At the sight of Amy's glowing eyes and wind-reddened cheeks,
Rika couldn't hold on to her annoyance.
Tess wandered over and reached out to touch Mouse's neck.
Frankie leaned down and kissed Tess's cheek, greeting her
cousin in the affectionate way Rika had observed between them since their
arrival. Despite having helped to raise her siblings, Rika wasn't that close to
any of her relatives.
"They have so many beautiful Appaloosas here, and you
decide on this plain little mare named Mouse?" Tess chuckled.
That's how Rika had often felt among her half sisters, the
young women in the boarding house, and even here at the ranch. In comparison to
all the pretty women, she was plain and uninteresting.
"She's not plain," Amy said.
The passionate fire blazing in Amy's eyes stirred something
in Rika.
Does she think that about me too?
"Look at how she carries herself." Amy gestured to
the mare. "With the right rider and a little more training, she'll be the
best horse you ever had — if you want her."
Frankie rested her hand on Tess's shoulder. "Oh, of
course I want her." She turned to Rika. "So, how much would you want
for her?"
"Me?"
"I bought her with the money Phin left for you, so
she's yours," Amy said.
"But you were the one who did all the work and trained
her." Rika didn't want to take Mouse from Amy after the long hours she
spent with her in the corral. The ten dollars weren't really hers anyway.
"I promised to pay back your money, and this is the
only way I can afford it," Amy said. She lowered her head and looked down
at Rika. "Please, take it."
After a second's hesitation, Rika nodded. At least Mouse
would be cared for and could be useful in ways that she wasn't at the ranch.
"Then it's a deal." Frankie swung out of the
saddle and looped her arm through Tess's.
A wagon clattered into the ranch yard. "Amy!" Nora
called as she pulled Old Jack to a stop. "What are you doing on that
horse? Didn't we agree that you would take it easy for a few more days?"
Rika couldn't stop the smirk that spread over her face.
"Now she," she nodded at Nora, "is your mother. There's no way
you can avoid that dressing-down."
"Thanks," Amy murmured and hastily climbed out of
the saddle.
R
IKA
DRIFTED AWAKE. The orange light of dawn filtered through her closed eyelids,
and she knew she had to get up soon, but for now, she kept her eyes closed.
Peace filled her, and a contented hum escaped her lips.
At the tiny sound, something moved against her back, and
Rika became aware of the warm body pressed against her own. Unlike Willem's
presence in their bed or her half siblings draping their little bodies over
hers, this didn't feel like an intrusion on her space.
It just felt nice and warm and safe.
Behind her, Amy nuzzled closer in her sleep. Soft locks
tickled Rika's neck, and the ebb and flow of Amy's breathing bathed her
shoulder and trailed a path of warmth down Rika's body.
Amy murmured something and smacked her lips, making Rika
grin. After two weeks of sharing the room and the bed, Amy finally stopped
suggesting she sleep in the stable or on the floor every night. She still clung
to the edge of the bed once they slipped beneath the covers, but after talking
for a while, Amy relaxed enough to sleep.
The nightly conversations were nice. Rika had never shared
so much of herself with anyone. Hiding her identity became harder every day.
She jerked out of her thoughts when a warm hand landed on
her hip and slid around to her stomach, then upward toward her bosom.
Lord!
Unexpected heat shot through her body.
What
is this? What's she doing?
Rika's smile vanished, and every trace of
sleepiness fell off her. Her hand shot out and gripped Amy's wrist. She craned
her neck and looked over her shoulder.
Amy was still fast asleep. Russet lashes rested against
golden skin, giving Amy an appearance of innocence and vulnerability.
Calm down.
She's sleeping and didn't mean anything
by it.
It wasn't Amy's fault if Rika's body reacted in improper ways to an
accidental touch.
She moved Amy's hand to a safe spot outside of the covers
and tried to enjoy a few more minutes in bed, but her body had lost its
drowsiness now. With a sigh, she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb
Amy.
Amy rolled onto her stomach to Rika's side of the bed. Her
hands slid over the sheet as if searching for something.
Maybe she's cold.
Rika pulled the covers over Amy's
shoulders and decided to let her sleep for a few more minutes. With the haying,
Amy's day would be long and exhausting enough.
* * *
Nora bent and trailed her hand along the wide-bladed grass.
A few steps to her right, she saw Hank bite down on a stalk of grass. Nora
didn't need to taste it to know that now was the time to bring in the hay crop.
If they waited any longer, the stalks would become coarse.
With hardly a cloud in the sky, it was good haying weather.
"All right," Nora said. "Let's get started." She ignored
the grumbling from the ranch hands. They detested any work they couldn't do on
horseback, and that included haying.
Chains jangled and leather creaked when they put Old Jack
and Little Jack in front of the two-wheeled mower. Amy climbed on the seat and
gathered the reins.
Nora wanted to race across the field and drag Amy down from
the mower before she could hurt her ribs.
Mowing was not a smooth process. Holes, stones, and stumps
lurked beneath the grass, threatening to jerk the breath out of horses and
driver. The mower would bump and rattle over the field, and Amy would upset her
still not fully healed ribs.
But Nora held herself back. Amy was a grown woman, a woman who
was trying to gain the respect of the ranch hands.
Someone else didn't have that kind of consideration for
Amy's authority, though. Hendrika gripped Amy's sleeve and refused to let go.
"Let Hank do this."
"I've been handling the team with the mower for years,"
Amy said. She lifted her chin like a battering ram.
Hendrika tilted her head and peered down her nose, not
moving back an inch. "Not with bruised ribs."
They stood caught in a silent battle of wills.
Then Nora reached them and held out her hand. "How
about giving me the reins, Amy?"
Amy eyed her. "You want to drive the mower?"
Under her daughter's skeptical gaze, Nora straightened to
her full height. "I've been driving that thing since before you were big
enough to hold the reins." The first few years in Oregon, they couldn't
afford to hire ranch hands, and Nora had helped with every chore on the ranch.
When Luke had broken her foot one summer, Nora had been forced to learn
quickly.
But she hadn't handled the mower in recent years. She was
probably quite rusty, but she knew she couldn't hand the reins to Hank. It
would send the message that women shouldn't drive the mower.
Finally, Amy relinquished the reins and climbed down.
The ranch hands stopped their own work to watch. Most of
them hadn't seen Nora drive the mower before.
Hendrika gave Nora a nod and helped her up on the seat,
perched above the six-foot-long cutting blade sticking out to the right side of
the mower. With a deep breath, Nora loosened her grip on the reins and clucked
at the horses. "Hyah!"
Old Jack started to pull, and his slightly smaller companion
followed.
The mower rattled along the field, jostling Nora. She kept
an eye on the long blade and tried to see through the grass. If she hit a rock
or another hidden object, the steel blade might break and would have to be
replaced.
Little Jack snorted and tried to veer to the left, away from
the whirring blade to his right. Unlike his bigger companion, he was still
fairly new to pulling the mower.
"Hey there! None of that, Little Jack." She
flicked the reins over his broad back and worked to keep the horses driving in
a straight line.
Morning dew was long gone from the field, and the sun was
rising. Sweat dripped into Nora's eyes, but she had no time to wipe it away.
Next to her, lush stalks fell. Field mice scurried into their hidden holes, and
a hawk circled above them, waiting for a snack that might be left behind by the
rattling blade.
Nora steered the mower around and around until, hours later,
the whole field was mowed. "Now we hope for a few days of sunshine, and
we'll be able to bring in the hay by the end of the week."
* * *
Days later, Nora took pitchers of cool water from the wagon
and placed them in the shade of a tree while she listened to the preparations
going on all around her. Luke said haying reminded her of a battle, and
sometimes it was. Some years, they raced against time to bring in their hay
before rain could ruin it.
"Hank, you drive the wagon. Emmett, you climb up and
pack down the hay," Amy shouted across the field.
If haying is a battle, then Amy is our commander. And
she's doing a good job.
Pride filled Nora. She was sorry Luke wasn't there
to see how well their daughter had adjusted to her responsibilities.