Hidden Trusts Page 11

  "And you let him get away?" Now they had a problem. She'd have to ride out with every available ranch hand and keep watch over their herd. Oh, Papa. I think I'm making a mess of things.

  "Who said we let him get away?" Adam shoved back his hat with his thumb and grinned at her.

  Amy's glance darted to the corral, but of course the mustang wasn't there. "Then where is he?"

  "Amy..." Mud squished as Hank shuffled his feet.

  Dread clutched at Amy and squeezed the air from her lungs. "What did you do?" She glared at Adam.

  Adam shrugged. "I shot him."

  "It was the only way," Hank said.

  Blood hammered in Amy's ears. The only way? She would never believe that killing a horse was the only way. "I told you to catch him, not kill him!"

  "It was a stupid order. You women are too sentimental to run a ranch." Adam spat out a wad of chewing tobacco. The brown sludge splattered over Amy's boots. "What would you have done if we had caught him? Tried to tame him?"

  Her fingers tightened into white-knuckled fists. The worst thing is he's right. The mustang might have been too old to tame. Even if she had managed to gentle him, he didn't fit into the Hamiltons' breeding program and none of their neighbors would have been interested in buying him either. "I would have taken him as far away as possible before letting him go," Amy said.

  "He would have been back here before you." Adam spat out more tobacco. "If you understood horses at all, you'd know that a bachelor stallion who sees a chance to get some mares for his herd can't be stopped."

  That much was true. Amy had seen them break down corral fences or free mares tied to hitching rails. "I would have found another way," she said. "At the moment, I am the one giving the orders on this ranch, and if you can't accept that, you better leave."

  "You can't fire him," Hank said. "We're short-handed as it is."

  "She can't fire me," Adam said. "Because I'm giving my notice. I'm not letting a damn girl boss me around anymore. Her old man with his mollycoddlin' horse taming methods is bad enough, so I'm not waiting 'til he gets back. I'm going."

  Amy's jaw tightened. Part of her wanted to shout "Good riddance!" after him, but what would Papa say when he returned and found Adam gone? She lifted her chin. "All right. If that's what you want." Maybe it was better to end it now than to have a struggle for power every day until Papa got back. "Come over to the main house and we'll settle what we owe you for this week's work."

  Another wad of chewing tobacco landed at Amy's feet. "Keep your damn money. I'll find better work elsewhere. Hank, you coming with me?"

  Amy's throat constricted as if a loop were tightening around it. She couldn't afford to lose another man, but she refused to beg. Silently, she waited for Hank's decision.

  Hank hesitated. His glance flitted from Amy to the ranch that had been his home for a lot of years. His bony shoulders straightened under a deep breath. "I'll stay," he finally said.

  The tension fled Amy's body.

  "Coward." A brown brew of tobacco landed in front of Hank's feet. Adam untied Cinnamon's lead rope from his saddle horn and picked up the reins of his gelding, no doubt preparing to gallop away and spray them with mud.

  "Stop." Amy grabbed his reins. "The gelding isn't yours. He belongs to the ranch. Get off the horse."

  Disbelief widened Adam's eyes. His face turned the color of his bright red bandanna. "You want me to slink out of here on foot, like a dog with his tail between his legs?"

  Most ranch hands like Adam refused to walk even from the bunkhouse to the main house, and asking him to walk all the way to town was an insult. Amy wouldn't have liked it either. She thought about selling him the gray mare she'd named "Mouse" but then shook her head. Who knows how he would treat her.

  She held his gaze without flinching. "Get off the horse," she repeated.

  Adam twisted. Amy thought he was reaching into his vest pocket for more of his disgusting chewing tobacco. But then he swiveled around with a revolver in his hand.

  Amy's stomach lurched as the muzzle swung around.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice echoed across the ranch yard.

  Amy looked up from Adam's revolver.

  Her mother sat on the buckboard, aiming a rifle at Adam. "If you point that weapon at my daughter, I'll shoot you," Mama said as calmly as if she were discussing supper. "And you know the women on this ranch can shoot. I never miss my target."

  "Shooting a man is not like shooting a rabbit. You don't have what it takes," Adam said but didn't lift his revolver any higher.

  "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.

  Hamilton Horse Ranch

  Baker Prairie, Oregon

  April 22, 1868

  "COME 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 loo
ks 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.