Hidden Truths (59 page)

BOOK: Hidden Truths
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"Did you tell her you want her to stay?"

"What right do I have to do that?" Amy rubbed her
burning eyes. "She told Phin she can't marry him because she didn't want
to live a lie — and even if she did like me, I couldn't offer her a life
without lying and hiding. She wouldn't want that kind of life."

Luke gripped Amy's shoulders and looked her in the eyes,
almost nose to nose. "Let Hendrika make that decision. Yes, living your
life forced to lie every day is hard," she said, voice low. "But you
know what? Lying to townsfolk, letting them believe what they want... I don't
mind that. If I could live my life over again, I'd make the same choices — with
one exception."

"What?" Amy asked.

"I'd tell you and Nattie sooner. The lies that hurt are
the ones you tell yourself and the people you love. Everyone else..." Luke
made a move as if tossing something over her shoulder. "They can go to
hell if they stand in the way of your happiness."

"You really think someone like me can find
happiness?"

Luke tapped her finger against Amy's temple. "Get this
thought that you don't deserve love just because you're different out of your
head. I let myself believe it for too many years, and only your mother taught
me otherwise. There's nothing wrong with you or me. If God didn't want me to
love Nora, why did he make me like this? Why didn't he make me fall in love
with... say, Hank?"

The thought sent goose bumps along Amy's skin. She shook
herself like a dog trying to get rid of fleas.

Luke laughed. "See? It seems wrong to you too. My heart
belongs to Nora, and yours might belong to Hendrika — and hers to you."

Amy shook her head. "She's not... that way. Rika was
married once."

"Sweetie, that doesn't mean anything. Your mother's
first sweetheart was a man too. And now she's in love with me." Luke's
red-rimmed eyes glowed with happiness.

"But what if Rika doesn't love me? What if she hates me
once she finds out?"

"She doesn't look at you as if she would hate you. I
know this is scary, but sometimes you have to take a chance for love,"
Luke said.

Just like Papa has
, Amy understood. Luke had taken a
big risk by telling Amy and Nattie who she was. She'd risked her safety, her
life, and her family's love. She had taken that chance out of love, because she
wanted to show Amy that happiness was possible for two women together.

Amy vaulted off the bed and stumbled to the door. "What
time is it?" she shouted over her shoulder.

"Almost one," Luke answered and snapped her pocket
watch closed.

Amy wrenched the door open. "Damn." By the time
she reached Baker Prairie, the stagecoach with Rika would be gone.

Willamette Valley, Oregon
June 27, 1868

R
IKA'S
SORE SHOULDER pounded every time the stagecoach hit a stone or a hole in the
road. At least the ache in her shoulder distracted her from the pain in her
heart.

The leather curtains were pulled back to let in fresh air.
Outside, the green hills and fields of the Willamette Valley glided by. Every
bend of the Molalla River, every dip of the land was familiar now.

To her left was the place where Amy and she had pulled the
foal out of the raging river. And on that hill over there, they had seen Tess
and Frankie kiss.

Then the Molalla River joined the Willamette, and the
stagecoach headed away from the Hamilton land. Rika craned her neck, hoping to
catch one last glance, until the pain in her shoulder told her to stop. She
felt as if she was leaving behind her home and her heart. Leaving Boston hadn't
felt like this.

"Here." The older man opposite her offered her a sympathetic
smile and his handkerchief.

Only then did Rika notice that tears were running down her
face. "Thank you." She took the handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.

"I'm Jacob Garfield. I own the dry-goods store in
town," he said. "I've seen you at church with the Hamiltons, but we
haven't been introduced."

"Hendrika Aaldenberg," Rika said from behind the
handkerchief. Using her own name should have been a relief, but it wasn't.
Hendrika Bruggeman had a home, maybe even a family. Hendrika Aaldenberg didn't.

"It wasn't right of him to have you come here and wait
for him and then refuse to marry you," Mr. Garfield said when he took back
his handkerchief.

"What?"

"Phineas Sharpe," Mr. Garfield said. "He
didn't act like a gentleman."

Rika flinched. So gossip had already started. "You're
mistaken, sir. That's not what happened."

"No?" He leaned forward and tilted his head.

She didn't owe him an explanation, but this was her last
chance to protect Phin's reputation. "I decided not to marry him."

His eyebrows jerked up. "But why? Phineas is a good,
hardworking man."

"I know." Rika fiddled with the sling around her
arm. "I just..." She shook her head. She couldn't tell him she had
feelings for someone else. Not when that someone was a woman. Rika hardly
understood it herself. "I don't love him."

Mr. Garfield smiled as if she were a child who had said
something foolish. "I've seen many good marriages in my time that didn't
start with love."

Just a few months ago, Rika would have nodded, but now she
said, "I want love. And if I can't have it, then I would rather stay
alone. I don't need a husband to be happy."

Mr. Garfield's eyebrows nearly disappeared in his gray hair,
but his smile was still kind, not disapproving. "You sound like the
Hamilton girls. My youngest son tried to court Nattie, but she refused to see
him."

Before Rika could answer, the stagecoach picked up speed,
jostling her from side to side.

"Hold on!" the driver shouted.

Mr. Garfield almost tumbled into Rika's lap. He grabbed the
leather strap dangling from the stagecoach's roof. "Have you gone
insane?" he yelled at the driver.

"Someone's after us!"

Rika's heart hammered against her ribs. The stagecoach
didn't have an armed guard, so if outlaws stopped them, they'd be fair game.
Not that she had much to lose. She had already left behind what was most
valuable to her.

The stagecoach flew up a hill. The sack of mail tumbled from
beneath the front seat and slammed into Rika's shins.

Hoofbeats drummed behind them, quickly coming closer.

Mr. Garfield pulled his revolver and pointed it at the
window, his face grim.

The rider was almost upon them now.

Rika caught flashes of red — a red horse galloping at full
speed, red locks flying in the wind.

In front of her, Mr. Garfield drew back the hammer of his
revolver.

"Rika!" the rider shouted.

Amy! It's Amy!
"No!" Rika threw herself at
Mr. Garfield's weapon hand.

A shot drowned out the hammering hoofbeats.

*  *  *

Amy ducked over Ruby's neck, but no bullet zipped past.

The four stagecoach horses slowed at a bend in the road.

Ruby stretched beneath Amy, her powerful muscles catapulting
them past the stagecoach. "Billy!" she shouted up to the driver.
"Stop, stop! It's just me, Amy Hamilton!"

Billy squinted at her, then pulled at the reins between his
fingers. "Whoa. Whoa I said, you sons of bitches!"

The stagecoach rumbled to a stop in a cloud of dust.

"Goddammit, Miss Hamilton!" He slapped his hat
against his thigh and glared at her. "What's gotten into you, riding like
the devil was after you? You damn near made my horses bolt for the hills, and
Jacob almost shot you!"

"Sorry. It's real urgent." Amy swung out of the
saddle. Her legs felt numb as she took the three steps to the stagecoach. She
flung open the red and gold door.

Rika sat on the middle seat, slumped over.

Lord!
Amy's pulse raced in her throat. Had Rika been
shot?

But then Rika straightened, one hand pressed to her
shoulder. A revolver lay on her lap. Tiny burn marks dotted the front of her
dress. She coughed at the gunpowder and looked at Amy, who still hung in the
stagecoach's doorframe, clutching it with both hands. "Amy? What are you
doing?"

Amy hesitated. Her one thought had been stopping Rika before
she was gone for good. She hadn't thought about what she would say once she had
stopped her. "Stopping you from leaving."

"Amy..."

"Ladies, I got a schedule to keep," Billy shouted.
"Either get out now or say good-bye."

Jacob Garfield, the only other passenger, looked from Amy to
Rika, no doubt listening to every word they said.

Ignoring him, Amy set one foot inside the stagecoach.
"Rika, please. I want you to stay. We all want you to stay. Please come
home with me."

Home. The word echoed between them.

Amy extended her hand, palm up.

"You've got five seconds," Billy shouted.
"Then I'll be on my merry way."

Leather creaked. Amy knew Billy was straightening the reins,
prepared to slap them across the horses' backs.

"Rika," Amy said.

Then Rika gripped her hand.

The breath whooshed from Amy's lungs. Dizzy with joy, she
pulled and stumbled backward, out of the stagecoach. At the last moment, she
remembered Rika's shoulder and stopped them from tumbling into the dust by
pulling Rika into her arms.

"Hyah! Hyah, you sons of bitches!" Billy shouted.
The stagecoach jerked forward and rumbled down the road, leaving Amy and Rika behind.

"My carpetbag," Rika said. "It's still in the
stagecoach."

A smile trembled on Amy's lips. "Seems you'll have to
borrow one of my skirts again."

Rika stared at the rapidly disappearing stagecoach, then
glanced into Amy's eyes just inches away. Emotions darted across her face like
clouds drifting across the sky. "What now?"

Her breath caressed Amy's lips. Heat raced down Amy's body.
Her arms around Rika trembled. She stared at the pink fullness of Rika's bottom
lip, the tender arc of her upper lip. She leaned forward.

Then jerked back. No, she couldn't do this. She dropped her
arms to her sides.

But Rika didn't let go. Her left arm still rested across
Amy's back, drawing her closer and closer.

The softness of Rika's lips met Amy's, connecting their bodies
in a flash of heat.

Her legs weakened, and she gripped Rika's hips.

Rika drew back. "Oh, Amy, Amy, please don't cry."

Cry? Amy reached up and touched her cheeks. Wetness met her
fingertips. She hadn't realized she was crying. Dazed, she stared at Rika.

"I'm sorry," Rika said. "I don't know what
came over me. I'm just so glad because I thought I'd never see you again, and I
thought you —"

"Stop." Amy wanted to touch her lips to Rika's to
make her stop talking, but she didn't dare. The dusty road was deserted, but
they still needed to be careful. "I'm not crying because you hurt me. I'm
crying because I wanted to do this for weeks but didn't dare to."

Rika blinked. "You did? You knew what all..." She
pressed her palm to her chest. "...all these feelings meant?"

Amy nodded, her mouth too dry to speak. She smacked her
lips. "So you feel it too?"

"I do. You don't think I go around kissing just anyone,
do you?"

Amy stared into twinkling brown eyes. "I never thought
you'd want to kiss me."

"I never thought so either. But it feels...
right."

"You seem so calm." Amy's insides still trembled.
How on earth had Rika come to terms with her feelings so fast when Amy had been
running from her feelings for women for years?

"You know how the horses always go faster on the way
back, when they sense that their stable is close?"

Amy nodded but furrowed her brow. Rika wanted to talk about
horses now?

"I felt like that when I saw you open the stagecoach
door. I knew home was close, so I should run toward it, not away from it."

Amy's hands trembled with the need to cup Rika's face, draw
her close, and kiss her.
No. Not here.

The same need made Rika's eyes seem to smolder. She brushed
a few tangles out of Amy's hair but otherwise kept her distance. "We need
to be careful."

The haziness in Amy's mind receded, and she peered left and
right.

Dust swirled around them, but otherwise, nothing moved on
the lonely road. They were alone. Still, Rika was right. Amy dug her teeth into
her lip. So the lying and hiding had already begun. How long would Rika be
willing to deal with it?

"Hey." Rika squeezed her hand. "Why are you
looking like that? Do you regret —"

"No, it's just... it's not gonna be easy for us to be
together. Are you sure you want that kind of life?"

Rika entwined their fingers. "We'll find a way. Don't
you dare run away from this."

"I'm done running," Amy said. It was time to grow
up and fight for what she wanted in life.

"Good. But I can't go back to the ranch. Not with Phin
living there."

"But where else could you go?"

"Maybe Tess and Frankie need someone to help with their
new hotel."

The burden on Amy's shoulders lifted. It was a good
solution, at least for a while.

"Let's go and ask them." She walked over to Ruby
and turned the stirrup so that Rika could step into it. "Ready?"

Rika rested her left hand on her shoulder.
"Ready."

Hamilton Horse Ranch
Baker Prairie, Oregon
July 4, 1868

"
A
RE YOU SURE it's all right?" Rika asked when Amy pulled the
wagon to a stop in front of the ranch's veranda.

"Why wouldn't it be? You've had supper
with us many times before."

"Yes, but back then, I was Phin's
betrothed, not your..." Rika trailed off, not sure what to call herself.
Was there a word for what she and Amy were to each other?

"My sweetheart," Amy said with a
smile and a blush. She reached over and squeezed Rika's hand. "It'll be
all right." Her voice trembled, though.

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