Hidden Trusts Page 14

  Envy flickered alive in Rika. No one in her family had ever protected her. "Be grateful. A family like yours is rare." She couldn't quite keep the sadness out of her voice.

  Nattie searched her face.

  "Who's that with your sister?" Rika asked to stop Nattie from inquiring about her own family. "Is that her sweetheart?"

  Nattie turned and craned her neck. "Oh, no, that's just Gary Snyder, the son of a local horse breeder. Amy doesn't have a sweetheart, and I bet they're talking horses."

  Rika watched Amy gesticulate, her cheeks flushed with the heat in the schoolhouse. So far, she had thought Amy wasn't interested in people, but she seemed to get along well with Gary Snyder. So is it just me she doesn't like? Being liked had never mattered to Rika, but for some reason, what Amy thought about her did matter.

  Two young girls settled down on the bench next to them. "Are you the mail-order bride?" one of them asked.

  Gracious, it seems I'm already famous in town. She gave a hesitant nod. "Hendrika Bruggeman."

  One girl arched an eyebrow. "You came all the way from Germany to marry a man you don't even know?"

  "She is Dutch, Ella, not German," Nattie said before Rika could answer.

  "Oh, don't start with your geography lesson. No one here is interested in that." Ella didn't even deign to look at Nattie. Her gaze was fixed on Rika, who tried not to squirm. "I wonder what self-respecting woman would sail across the ocean to marry a stranger."

  "A desperate one, with little backbone," her friend answered.

  The words cut deep. I am desperate, and I am a liar with little backbone.

  "Leave her alone," Nattie said. "We're just sitting here, minding our own business, and you have no right to insult Hendrika."

  But the young women from town didn't retreat. Their gazes hit Rika like hail, and she hunched her shoulders.

  * * *

  "Finally!" Amy used the musicians' break to evade two bachelors looking for a dance partner and walked over to Bernice, who was arranging pastries and pies on a table. "Bernice? Can you do me a favor?"

  Bernice turned, her smile full of affection. "Of course. What is it?"

  "I want to leave now, but Mama told me to keep an eye on Nattie and Hendrika, so..." Amy directed a pleading glance at Bernice. "Do you think you can...?"

  "Sure. You know I always looked after you and Nattie as if you were my own. I'll have Hannah and Josh escort them home safely," Bernice said.

  "Thank you." Amy squeezed Bernice's hand and went to let Nattie and Hendrika know she was leaving.

  A small crowd of townspeople formed around Hendrika, but this time, it wasn't young men eager for a dance with the intriguing newcomer. Ella Williams and her friends crowded around Hendrika.

  Were they talking about dresses, marital prospects, and other things Amy didn't understand?

  Then she saw the look on Hendrika's face and Nattie's rigid pose.

  Amy glared at the silly gooses. As long as Hendrika was living on the ranch, she was part of the family. No one was allowed to corner her. Amy stormed over just in time to hear Fanny Henderson's cutting words, "A desperate one, with little backbone."

  "I see you're talking about your favorite topic of conversation, Fanny," Amy said, shouldering past Ella. "Yourself."

  A collective gasp interrupted the sudden silence, and somewhere, a girl giggled.

  "I-I certainly wasn't!" Fanny sputtered. "We were just wondering why a respectable woman would go and answer an ad in a newspaper."

  Amy often wondered too. Oh, nice. Now I do have something in common with the stuck-up girls in town. "And? Did you ask her before rushing to judgment?" Like I did. She tried to catch Hendrika's eye for a silent apology, but Hendrika averted her gaze, apparently not wanting to talk about her reasons for becoming a mail-order bride.

  "Or did Ella convince you to come over and harass Hendrika because she has something that Ella wants for herself?" Amy said into the silence.

  Ella lifted her head up high and grazed Amy with a look as if she were the runt of the herd, not worthy of her attention. "And what, pray tell, might that be?"

  "Phin," Amy answered.

  A strangled laugh escaped Ella. "Phineas Sharpe? Oh, please! As if I would be interested in a simple ranch hand who is too dumb to even know how to read or write."

  Nattie stepped forward, almost nose to nose with Ella now. "Phin isn't —" she started, but Amy shot her a look.

  "Don't bother denying it, Ella," Amy said. "Phin told me all about your attempts to catch his attention." For some reason, Phin had never been interested in Ella or any of the girls in town, and Amy had been half afraid that he was holding out for her, as he often joked. "Of course, he wouldn't be interested in a girl who's too dumb to even know a good man when she sees one."

  Nattie grasped Amy's hand, and together, they stared down Ella and her friends.

  With a huff, Ella whirled around and marched away, her entourage following behind her.

  "Oh, Amy, that was great!" Nattie squeezed her hand and then let go.

  Hendrika finally lifted her gaze from the floor. "Thank you."

  "Ah," Amy said, "they were just jealous because you two were hoarding all the eligible bachelors. Don't listen to them, all right?"

  "I won't," Hendrika said. A little color returned to her pale cheeks.

  "Listen, you two, I'm gonna head out now. Don't worry about Ella and her entourage. I doubt they'll bother you again."

  Nattie stared at the old clock on the wall. "You want to go home? Now? It's not even midnight. The dance is gonna last for at least another three hours. Hank and the boys said they'd go home early and take over milking tomorrow morning so that we can stay."

  "You can stay if you want, but we still got two mares in foal, and Mama can't keep an eye on them both." And besides, Amy had all the dancing and socializing she could take for one night.

  "All right," Nattie said, still not looking pleased.

  Hendrika rose from the bench. "Actually, I'll come with you if it's all right for Nattie to stay here alone."

  "Oh, come on, Hendrika." Nattie tugged at her sleeve. "Don't you hear? They are striking up 'Beautiful Dreamer' now, my favorite waltz. Please stay. Don't let these arrogant witches spoil the dance for you."

  But Hendrika shook her head. "It's not about them. I'm just not used to staying up all night."

  Frowning, Amy directed her gaze at Nattie. "Will you be all right here on your own? Bernice promised to keep an eye on you, and Josh will take you home, but if you'd rather —"

  Nattie straightened like a rooster ruffling up his feathers. "Would you stop treating me like a child? Of course I'll be fine. It's not like I'm among strangers. Hannah and Rebecca are still here, and in a minute, Bernice will serve her famous midnight snack."

  "All right. We're going, then." With one last glance back at Nattie, Amy led Hendrika out the door.

  She turned her palm skyward. For once, the mistlike drizzle had stopped. She helped Hendrika onto the wagon seat, telling herself that it was just because Hendrika's dress was tighter than her own.

  A sigh of relief flew from her lips when Old Jack trotted homeward. She hoped this would be the last dance for a while. The silence of the night and the rhythmic clip-clop of Old Jack's hooves were a balm to her soul. Only the occasional brush of Hendrika's arm against her side made her heartbeat quicken.

  "I know you wonder too," Hendrika interrupted the silence.

  "What?"

  Hendrika stared straight ahead. "You probably wonder why I answered Phineas's ad for a mail-order bride."

  Curiosity was burning in her, but Amy forced herself to answer, "It's none of my business."

  "I didn't make the decision to come west lightly, but my life in Boston..." Her gaze touched Amy, then veered away. "After the War, few eligible men remained in Boston."

  The War had never touched Oregon, so Amy had a hard time imagining all the death and destruction. "So many have died?"

  "Oh, the
re were enough who survived, but so many of them are wounded, either on the outside or the inside. Some started drinking and gambling and —" Hendrika interrupted herself. "The War brings out the worst in people. This land," her gaze caressed the land half-hidden by the darkness, "your family... you're untouched by that ugliness."

  Are we? What about the ugliness, the unnatural feelings that lurked inside of her? She looked at Hendrika and waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. She had a feeling she was getting just half of the reason why Hendrika had come west to marry Phin.

  She didn't have the right to ask, though. Not when she was keeping so many things to herself.

  Hamilton Horse Ranch

  Baker Prairie, Oregon

  April 25, 1868

  THE BUCKBOARD crested the hill, and Amy looked down at her home. The main house lay in darkness. Had Mama bedded down with the mares, or had she checked on the mares and gone to bed?

  Her gaze wandered to the stable.

  She jerked in alarm.

  Flames shot through the barn's roof.

  Fire!

  "Hold on, Hendrika! Hyah!" she shouted at Old Jack and flapped the reins.

  The buckboard flew down the hill.

  Hendrika clamped her fingers around Amy's arm but didn't protest the breakneck speed.

  In the stable, horses screamed in panic.

  Amy's heart clenched. "Mama!"

  No one answered.

  Was Mama up in her bedroom or in the burning barn?

  She pulled Old Jack to a stop in the ranch yard and jumped down.

  The flames danced higher along the beams of the roof.

  Amy raced across the yard. She flung open the barn door.

  A black cloud billowed around her, making her cough. Smoke and heat brought tears to her eyes. She hesitated.

  "Amy!" Hendrika shouted from behind her. "No!"

  A high-pitched squeal from inside the stable vibrated through Amy. She rushed into the black smoke.

  * * *

  A wall of smoke swallowed Amy.

  "Amy!" Rika yelled. "Amy, come back!"

  Only the crackling of the fire answered her. She was alone in the ranch yard, with no idea what to do.

  Fear clutched at her and made it difficult to breathe. She hesitated, trying to see something through the black smoke. Was Amy coming back?

  "Amy?"

  Nothing.

  Going after her is crazy. Completely crazy.

  "Darn it!" She lifted her arm to cover her face and stepped into the burning stable.

  Heat leaped at her. The back of the stable was a sea of fire. Flames licked at the barn's old wood and shot along the floor, consuming the hay.

  "Amy?" Rika called.

  No answer.

  Somewhere, a horse squealed. The smoke was so thick that she couldn't see where it was coming from.

  Coughing, Rika groped her way down the center aisle.

  Another piercing scream and something big stormed past Rika.

  The horses! Amy is getting the horses out.

  To her left, the spotted horse with the eye patch kicked a panicked rhythm against the stall door.

  Rika hurried over and opened the door.

  The horse reared and jumped forward. Heavy hooves missed Rika just by inches.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  She leaped out of the way and watched the horse flee down the aisle and out the door.

  Rika gripped the bolt of the next stall door.

  Pain seared her fingers. With a scream, she let go of the red-hot piece of metal. Ignoring the pain, she wrapped the hem of her skirt around her hand and shoved back the bolt. She jumped out of the way.

  The brown horse pranced past her, its eyes wide with fear.

  The next stall held the gray mare. One slap of her wrapped hand against the bolt and Rika opened the door.

  But this horse didn't storm past her.

  It snorted and backed away from the door.

  "Come on, Mouse." Rika tried to make her voice as soothing as possible. Smoke filled her lungs, and she coughed.

  The horse moved, but away from her and the door that led to safety.

  Someone grabbed Rika's shoulder. "Get out of here," Amy shouted.

  "Not without you," Rika answered. "The gray mare is still in there."

  Amy walked past her, her movements calm, as if a raging inferno weren't blazing around them. With a gentle but firm touch, she grasped a bit of mane and led the snorting mare out of the stall.

  Rika hurried after them, careful not to get too close to the hooves of the panicked mare.

  The smoke lifted.

  Rika jumped across the threshold and sucked in a lungful of fresh air.

  "Close the door!" Amy shouted.

  Startled, Rika closed the door of the burning barn behind her, not sure what difference it would make.

  When she turned around, Amy hurled herself at her.

  Both went down.

  Rika groaned as she hit the ground and lay dazed under Amy's body. "What?" She struggled when Amy began to grope and slap at her. "What are you doing?"

  "Your skirt's on fire!" Amy batted at the flames with her bare hands. "Hold still."

  Finally, they lay still, coughing and wheezing. Smoke drifted up from Rika's skirt.

  "Your hands," Rika whispered and lifted one of them to study the red burn marks.

  "It doesn't hurt," Amy answered, her voice equally low. "Not right now."

  "Amy?" A strangled call drifted across the ranch yard.

  Amy shot up. "Mama?" Despite her burned hands, she reached down and helped Rika to her feet, then hurried toward Nora.

  Nora staggered around the corner. She was holding her head with both hands and stared at their blazing barn.

  "Mama! What happened?" Amy caught her mother as she stumbled.

  Without hesitation, Rika slung Nora's other arm around her shoulder.

  "Did you fall because the fire scared you?" Amy asked.

  "No. There was no fire when I checked on the mares." The fire reflected off Nora's wide eyes. "I walked back to the house, then something... someone hit me from behind. I passed out. Next thing I know, you were shouting across the ranch yard."

  Fast hoofbeats pounded the earth. At first, Rika thought the panicked horses were coming back, but then she saw that riders clung to the horses' backs. The ranch hands were returning from the dance.

  Amy shouted orders, still holding on to her mother.

  "Go," Rika said. "I'll take care of her."

  Amy hesitated.

  "I was a nurse during the War."

  "Go," Nora said to her daughter. "Take care of the horses. I'll be fine with Hendrika."

  With one more reassuring nod from Rika, Amy hurried away.

  * * *

  "Damn Indian!" Hank grabbed his lariat from the saddle horn and spurred his gelding toward the bunkhouse.

  "Where are you going?" Amy called after him. "We have to catch the horses before they head back into the burning barn." Sometimes, horses became so frightened that they rushed back into the fire, searching out the treacherous safety of their familiar stalls.

  Hank didn't listen. In front of the bunkhouse, he slid out of the saddle and disappeared inside. When he exited, he dragged a sleep-drunk John Lefevre on his lariat behind him.

  "What the hell? Hank!" Amy stormed across the yard. "What are you doing? Let him go! Now!"

  Hatred burned in Hank's eyes, flickering hotter than the fire in the stable. "Let him go? He set fire to the stable!"

  "What?" John gasped. The loop tightened around his neck.

  "Yeah, you were the only one who didn't go to the dance." Hank jerked on the rope.

  "You idiot!" Amy grabbed Hank's shoulder and shook him. "He didn't go to the dance because the stupid people in town think anyone whose ancestors didn't drink tea with the people on the Mayflower doesn't deserve to be part of their community!"

  Hank continued to tighten the rope.

  "Stop it!" A
my pulled on his arm. "Do you think John would go back to sleep in the bunkhouse if he had set the barn on fire? Let him go, or you'll be out of a job."