Hidden Trusts Page 13

  This is crazy. If she hired him, it would start the townspeople's tongues wagging. Papa didn't like that kind of attention. He preferred to lead a quiet life. "Do you have any experience with horses?" she found herself asking nonetheless.

  "Enough to know that this is the best mare I've ever seen." He pointed at Ruby.

  A pleased grin settled onto Amy's lips, but then she folded her arms over her chest. "Are you trying to flatter me into hiring you?"

  "It's not working, is it?" He sighed. "Thought I'd try. There aren't many men around here who'd hire me."

  "So you thought you'd try it with a woman?" Amy wasn't sure whether she should be annoyed or impressed by his logic.

  He shrugged. "Thought it couldn't hurt." With a nod and a tip of his hat, he turned and walked away.

  Amy watched him, studied the lithe steps and the soft touch with which he untied his buckskin gelding from the hitching rail. "What's your name?" Amy called after him. What are you doing? Was this one of the impulsive decisions for which Mama had scolded her?

  No, she decided. They needed a new ranch hand, especially now during foaling season, and Augustus Snyder would make sure none of the local men thought about signing up with the Hamilton Ranch. And besides, Papa has a soft spot for outcasts. Years ago, an old, one-armed man had lived in the bunkhouse and taken care of their tack. And Papa had taken in Phin when he was too young to qualify as a useful ranch hand.

  The man turned around. "John Lefevre." At Amy's questioning gaze, he added, "My father was a French merchant with the Hudson Bay Company, and my mother was from the Sandwich Islands. Not that most people care about that."

  Amy understood. Just as most people never looked beyond her gender, they took one look at him and decided that they didn't want to hire an "Injun." Since the Snake Wars had started, everyone who looked even halfway Indian had become the enemy.

  "One month," she said. "On a trial basis."

  His dark features lit up. "You won't regret it."

  Oh, let's hope not. She prayed none of her ranch hands would quit rather than work with an Indian. She couldn't afford to make any more mistakes.

  * * *

  "Mama, please."

  Nora looked up from her bread dough. She smiled inwardly when Nattie put her grayish eyes, so much like Luke's, to good use and gave her a pleading look.

  "Everyone is going," Nattie said.

  "Not everyone." Nora pressed her fingers into the dough. "I'm staying home. Hendrika said she's not going either." She pointed at the silent woman peeling potatoes at the other end of the kitchen table.

  Nattie ignored her comment. "Even the Tolridge twins are going, and they're only fourteen."

  Nora pounded the dough while she thought about it. "I don't know, Nattie. With Amy not going either and Phin not there to keep an eye on you..."

  "I don't need Phin to keep an eye on me! I'm not a child, Mama." Nattie's pouting lower lip didn't make her appear very mature, and Nora suppressed a smile. "I'm about as old as you were when you met Papa and had Amy."

  It hadn't happened in that order, of course, but Nora had become pregnant when she had been Nattie's age. One more reason not to let Nattie go unchaperoned. But she had to admit that Nattie was much more mature than she had been at almost seventeen.

  While Nora had gone to bed with the first man who told her he loved her, Nattie had learned early on to interact with men without fawning over them. Growing up around Luke ensured that she never thought women should submit to whatever men wanted.

  "All right," Nora said. "You can go to the dance — if Hendrika is going too."

  Two birds with one stone. Nora grinned. Hendrika had been on the ranch for almost a week now, but she hadn't met any of the neighbors yet. She kept to herself, and Nora had a feeling that it was some unknown fear, not a lack of interest, that made her stay away from people. Maybe she was shy with strangers and needed a little encouragement.

  A potato slipped from Hendrika's grasp and skidded across the floor. She shook her head in protest.

  "Oh, thank you, Mama." Nattie danced around the kitchen table and hugged her. "Thank you, Hendrika." She hugged the startled Hendrika too and then rushed up the stairs, no doubt looking for her best dress.

  Nora chuckled at the pole-axed expression on Hendrika's face. "She can be a force of nature, can't she? I hope you don't mind going to the dance with her. If you really don't want to go, I can probably talk Amy into going with Nattie." In fact, she should talk Amy into going, no matter what. Amy needed to be around people who didn't think hoof thrush was a perfectly fine topic of conversation over supper.

  "It's all right," Hendrika said while she scrambled to pick up the escaped potato. "I'll go with her. If we don't like it, we can come back early."

  Oh, that's what you think. Now that Nattie was going to the dance, she wouldn't be home before it was time to milk the cows. Nora smiled warmly. "Of course, dear."

  * * *

  Amy flicked the reins without any enthusiasm, urging Old Jack toward the schoolhouse. Next to her, Nattie bounced on the wagon seat. "Sit still, or I'll make you walk through the mud in your good dress," Amy said. She peeked around Nattie at Hendrika, who rode along in silence.

  She was wearing one of Amy's dresses — one that Amy had never liked anyway.

  Not that she liked any of them. At least not when she had to wear them. On Hendrika, she loved the dress. The dark blue fabric contrasted nicely with the soft, pale skin and made her eyes look even darker. When Hendrika lifted her head and looked over, Amy snatched her gaze away.

  She tugged on her bonnet, aware of the paler patch of skin above the line where her hat's sweatband normally rested. Her hands curled to hide the scars on her palms and the black rims that remained under her fingernails, even after careful scrubbing.

  The sounds of an accordion and at least one fiddle drifted down the hill.

  "They've already started." Nattie clapped her hands. "Oh, and look! There are Hannah and Josh." She waved wildly and the small button at the cuff of her dress got tangled in Amy's bonnet.

  Nattie struggled to break free.

  "Hey!" When the ribbon beneath Amy's chin tightened, she grunted.

  Hendrika reached over and freed Amy.

  Her gaze met Hendrika's, and she didn't hear the music anymore. "Thank you," she said.

  "You're welcome," Hendrika answered.

  Old Jack slowed when he reached the other horses tied in front of the schoolhouse, jerking Amy out of her daydreams and her gaze away from Hendrika.

  She tightened the reins and wrapped them around the brake. Then she jumped down and rounded the buckboard. When she saw a young man help his female companion down from the wagon next to theirs, Amy stopped.

  What are you thinking? Women didn't help other women down from the wagon. You are not her beau. Let her climb down on her own before people start wagging their tongues about your unnatural behavior.

  Nattie hooked her arm through Hendrika's with a familiarity that Amy didn't dare. "Come on. Let's go in." She looked over her shoulder. "You coming, Amy?"

  "Go on. I'll take care of the horse and be right in." She took her time making sure Old Jack was comfortable and could reach the tufts of grass next to the school, then greeted the little mare she had trained for Bernice Garfield, whose husband owned the only store in town. "Hey there, Rhubarb. How are you doing?"

  "Except for that name you gave her, she's just fine," Bernice said from behind her. "I remember you came up with the funniest names for the horses when you were a child. What was the name of that mare of Luke's? Smallpox?"

  "Measles."

  Bernice chuckled and looked around. "Your mother isn't with you?"

  "No. She says that dancing with other men is just not the same as dancing with Papa."

  Bernice's brows twitched. "I can imagine," she mumbled. Then the smile returned to her lips. "What about you? Are you up for a night of dancing?" She pointed at the schoolhouse. "Alex Tolridge has been on the loo
kout for you. I think that young man is a bit enamored with you."

  Alex Tolridge? The son of the local doctor couldn't even stay on a horse. Gosh, he's nothing but a big baby. Once, when they had gone to school together, she had shown him a snake she had caught and he had run away screaming. But instead of voicing her dislike, Amy nodded politely. "I might not stay long enough to dance with him," she said. "It's still foaling season and Mama is alone on the ranch, so I might leave early."

  An affectionate half smile darted across Bernice's face, and she shook her head. "Sometimes I think you're too much like Luke."

  Luke. Bernice never said "your father," as everyone else did. Amy wondered about it since she had first noticed it. "Too much like Papa?" Amy repeated. "That's not possible."

  Being like Papa was the biggest compliment in her book. Sometimes she envied the tall, dark-haired Nattie for looking so much more like Papa than she did.

  "So Luke's a good father, then?" Bernice asked.

  Amy furrowed her brow at Bernice. "Why do you keep asking me that? You're almost like family. You know Papa. He's the best father and a wonderful man."

  A strange expression darted across Bernice's face. She coughed, then patted Amy's arm. "Yeah. I didn't want to imply otherwise. It's just that... sometimes, I worry about you. You're not like all the other girls."

  Heat flashed through Amy, followed by an icy ripple of fear. She clenched her fingers around a fold of her skirt. "W-what do you mean?"

  "Everyone else has been looking forward to the dance for weeks. Some of them have come from thirty miles away — and you would rather go home and check on your mares."

  Her tense fingers let go of the skirt. Bernice didn't suspect how different Amy really was. "Why is that bad?" Amy asked.

  "It's not. It's just that —" Bernice trailed off. "Forget what I said. Go on. Don't let an old woman's strange worries keep you from dancing. And come by later for a piece of my apple pie." She shooed Amy into the schoolhouse.

  "You might want to loosen Rhubarb's cinch," Amy said over her shoulder.

  When the door closed behind Amy, music engulfed her. A fiddler drew the bow across the strings, keeping time with an accordion and a mouth harp. Booted feet pounded the polished wood floor in rhythm to the music, and the first couples danced to the catchy tune of 'Turkey in the Straw.'

  Laughter and loud conversations drifted between little groups. Amy hadn't seen so many people in one place for many months. She didn't understand it, but she often heard the women complain about the loneliness out on the ranches and farms. The Hamiltons' nearest neighbors lived miles away, and sometimes they didn't see them for weeks. That was just fine with Amy; she felt much more isolated standing in the schoolhouse.

  The school's benches and desks had been removed except for a few seats along the walls. Young mothers sat, bouncing toddlers on their knees in time to the music and handing out pieces of pie. Laughing children weaved between the dancers.

  Amy wanted to cover her ears and walk out into the silent night, but she'd promised Mama she would keep an eye on Nattie and Hendrika. When she craned her neck, she found Nattie talking to the pastor's son, her cheeks flushed with either excitement or embarrassment.

  Amy's gaze skipped over the dancers and the women admiring the pies. Hendrika was nowhere to be seen.

  Then she discovered her in a quieter corner, talking to... Oh, no. Hannah. Amy couldn't say why, but a feeling of uneasiness settled into the pit of her stomach.

  She marched toward them. It was too noisy to hear what the two women were talking about, but as she got closer, Amy watched the easy way Hannah touched Hendrika's arm while she talked. She used to do that to me.

  Hendrika didn't return the friendly little touches, but she didn't shy away either. Very likely, she didn't even notice. Amy had always been overly aware of those touches. Annoyed, she directed her thoughts away from that topic and focused on the two young women. With their dark hair and brown eyes, they looked a bit alike, but while Hannah laughed often and talked to everyone around her, Hendrika didn't search out conversation and she rarely smiled.

  She's not comfortable here, among the townspeople. We have that much in common at least.

  The thought directed Amy's steps toward the two young women before she could make a conscious decision. "Hello, Hannah."

  "Amy! I thought you wouldn't come." Smiling, Hannah reached out and hugged her.

  Heat raced over Amy's skin, more because she knew Hendrika was watching than because of Hannah's warm greeting. "Yeah, well, Mama talked me into it."

  "Hello there, little man," Hendrika said next to them.

  Amy followed her gaze downward.

  Hannah's two-year-old son was clutching Hendrika's skirt. Now he stared at her with wide eyes. His bottom lip quivered, and he let go of Hendrika's skirt to grasp Hannah's.

  "Oh." Hannah laughed. "I think he mistook you for me from behind."

  Hendrika's lips parted in a smile, revealing a slight gap between her front teeth.

  Amy stared, aware that she had never seen Hendrika smile.

  "I'm not your mama, little one." Hendrika bent down to be at eye level with the boy. "My name is Rika."

  Rika. Amy tasted the name on her tongue. How nice that sounded. Why was no one on the ranch allowed to call Hendrika by that name?

  Hannah's son grinned at Hendrika, losing his shyness under Hendrika's friendly smile. He reached out his little arms, and Hendrika picked him up and settled him on her hip without hesitation.

  "You are so good with him," Hannah said. She ran her fingers through the boy's dark hair.

  "I've had a lot of practice." Hendrika bounced him, making the boy giggle. "I helped raise my half siblings."

  With shame, Amy realized she had lived with Hendrika for almost a week yet didn't know anything about her. She was distracted when Hannah's son glanced at her and, after a moment's hesitation, reached out his arms in her direction. "Um..."

  Hannah laughed. "Just imagine he's a young colt, and you'll be fine."

  "You want me to halter-break your son?"

  This time, even Hendrika laughed, and it softened her stern features and put a sparkle in her eyes.

  Elam Cooper, the saddle maker's son, walked over and held out his hand toward Hendrika. "May I have this dance?"

  "Oh, I'm afraid I have my hands full at the moment." Hendrika lifted the boy higher in her embrace, hiding behind him.

  Hannah stepped forward. "Give him to me."

  Within a moment of reluctantly handing over the child, Hendrika was whisked away to the dance floor.

  "Why the frown?" Hannah asked.

  "Hm?"

  "You are frowning." Hannah touched her finger to Amy's forehead. "Everything all right?"

  Amy dragged her gaze away from Hendrika and her dance partner. "I'm fine. I just wonder if it's proper for her to dance with Elam. She is Phin's betrothed after all."

  "And you think that will stop them?" Hannah pointed at the bachelors who already eyed Hendrika with interest. "There are four times more men in here than women. They'll ask every woman to dance. Even Mrs. Fuller's rheumatism won't stop them from dragging her to the dance floor."

  "Sounds like I won't be able to escape unscathed either." Amy sighed.

  "No." Hannah grinned at something behind Amy. "No escape before dawn."

  When Amy turned around, a grinning Alex Tolridge held out his hand. "May I have this dance?"

  Suppressing a groan, Amy followed him to join the other dancers.

  * * *

  Nattie plopped onto a bench next to Rika and groaned. "If I have to dance with one more man, I'll kill him." Her eyes were shining, though, and Rika had no doubt that she was enjoying the attention of her admirers.

  "Oh, no, you don't." Rika tucked her swollen feet beneath her skirt. "If they throw you in prison for murder, your flock of disappointed admirers will want to dance with me instead and my feet can't take that."

  A girlish giggle erupted from Nat
tie's lips. "It's nice, though, isn't it?"

  Rika gave a vague nod. The crowd of people was a bit much for her, but the rhythm of the music sent her heart pounding with joy, and she had to admit that the attention of Baker Prairie's men was flattering. Here in the West, it didn't matter that she was plain, poor, and without a family.

  If Phineas refused to marry her, she should have no problem finding another husband. She found no comfort in the thought.

  "At home, everyone treats me like a child, like the baby in the family," Nattie said. "Phin and my parents and even Amy try to protect me all the time. For once, it's nice to be treated like an adult."