Hidden Truths (19 page)

BOOK: Hidden Truths
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Charred grass rustled as Toby shuffled his feet. They were
all waiting for John's reaction.

"If you show me the trick with the rope that let you
catch me so easily, we'll call it even," John answered.

Hank blinked. "Deal," he said after a moment.

Relief weakened Amy's knees. For once, she had made the
right decision by hiring John. Instead of starting a hateful feud, John had
given Hank an easy way out. She gave him a nod of appreciation.

"All right." Now Amy had to focus on keeping the
ranch and her family safe. "Toby, you take the wagon and fetch Nattie from
the dance. I don't want her to run into Adam. Hank, ride to Oregon City and
tell the sheriff what happened. I want him out here, searching for Adam, as
soon as possible. Until then, we won't be taking any chances. We'll set up
guards around the clock. John, you take the first watch. I'll relieve you after
I've checked on Mama."

"Something happened to Mrs. Hamilton?" John asked.
"Was she hurt in the fire?"

Amy's teeth ground together. "No. I think Adam hit her
over the head." She had told John about Adam when she had hired him.

"But she'll be all right?" John fixed his gaze on
Amy. Mama had earned his respect by treating him like any other ranch hand.

"She'll be fine," Amy said, hoping it to be true.
God
help Adam if she isn't!

*  *  *

Amy rushed up the stairs, eager to get to her room.
Better
not let Mama see the burn marks on the skirt. It'll only make her worry.
A
quick change of clothes, then she would go see how Mama was doing. And see if
she still keeps Papa's spare revolver in the trunk at the foot of their bed.
While her parents didn't like her carrying a revolver and people in town would
find it improper, she wouldn't risk facing Adam unarmed a second time. Mama had
saved her last time. Now it was her turn to protect the family.

She swung open the door — and almost stumbled over the threshold.

Oh, God. Not again.

A half-dressed Hendrika stood in front of the washstand,
looking more afraid than embarrassed.

Amy whirled around. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's fine. Your mother said I should change in
here and take another one of your skirts. Hope that's all right?" Her
voice trembled.

Am I scaring her?
Amy remembered the first time she
had found Hendrika in her room. Back then, Hendrika had been afraid of the
violent intrusion too. Had someone hurt her in anger before? "It's
fine," she said, making her voice as gentle as she could. "How is
Mama?"

"She's got a headache and a big bump on her head, but
she should be fine in a little while," Hendrika answered. "The bonnet
dampened the impact."

Relief numbed the pain in Amy's hands. "Good. So that
thing is actually good for something." She untied her own bonnet, which
had seen better days.

"Is it really all right for me to take another one of
your skirts?" Hendrika asked.

"Sure." Amy stole a glance to the side. The skirt
and bodice Hendrika had laid out on the bed were just useless pieces of cloth
to her. "I hate how this one looks anyway."

"Oh."

"On me," Amy hastily added, then blushed. She
rubbed her hands over her face, but that only made them burn along with her
cheeks.
Why don't you come right out and tell her that you like how she
looks, idiot?

"You can turn around now," Hendrika said.

Amy did, hoping that her cheeks had taken on a more natural
color by now.

Her skirt was slightly too long on Hendrika, and the bodice
fit her more snugly than it did Amy.

Stop ogling her! She's Phin's future wife, for land's
sake!
Guilt and shame singed through her. Amy forced her gaze to remain
fixed on Hendrika's face. "You've got a little soot right there..."
She gestured. Part of her wanted to take the soft cloth next to the washstand
and run it over Hendrika's skin, but she stayed where she was.

Hendrika glanced into the looking glass and then rubbed the
soot stain away. "Did you find the horses? Did we get all of them out in
time?"

"Yes," Amy said. Her heart trembled at the thought
of the horses burning in the stable. "We got them all. They are spooked
but all right. But the mares were scared so badly that they'll probably hold
off foaling for another week or two."

"They can do that?"

"Sure," Amy said. "Mares are good mothers.
They don't want their babies to be born into a dangerous situation."

Something flickered in Hendrika's eyes, and Amy wondered
what kind of mother she had. "Listen," she said when the silence
between them grew. "I wanted to say thank you. I doubt I could have gotten
all the horses out on my own."

"You're welcome." Hendrika smiled. "Do you
think Snowflake and Pirate will forgive me now for feeding them too many
oats?"

"Oh, they weren't angry with you."

I was.
Both of them heard what she wasn't saying. Amy
saw it in Hendrika's face. She could admit to herself now that she had
overreacted because she'd been scared.

"Has anyone looked at your hands?" Hendrika asked.

Amy hid them in the folds of her skirt. The thought of
Hendrika tenderly cradling her burned hands in her own... Amy shivered.
"I'll have Mama take a look later."

"Your mother needs her rest. Let me see."
Hendrika's tone left no room for protests.

Slowly, Amy lifted her hands and turned them palm up.

Her hands glowed a bright pink and were a little swollen,
but no blisters had formed.

"Ouch." Hendrika sucked in a breath. "That
must hurt. Do you have some ointment we could put on it?"

"I'm a quick healer," Amy said.

"Ointment?" Hendrika repeated. She waved her
fingers in a "give me" gesture.

So our quiet guest can be pretty stubborn too.
Amy
handed her the small jar she kept next to her bed for rope burns.

Hendrika unscrewed the jar but then paused. "You should
wash up and change first."

"That's why I came up here."

"I'll wait." Hendrika turned and faced the door.

Amy stared open-mouthed.
She expects me to undress with
her right here, next to me?
Shivers raced up and down Amy's spine.

"Oh, how thoughtless of me." Hendrika turned
around. "You probably can't open all the tiny buttons on your dress with
your burned fingers," she said, misinterpreting Amy's hesitation.
"Here, let me help you."

Amy jumped back. "No, no, I'm fine. See?" To prove
that she needed no help, she lifted her hands to the buttons and started to
open the first one. Her fingers trembled, though, and refused to cooperate. She
fumbled with the button.

"I see," Hendrika said. "Why are you being so
stubborn?"

Their gazes met.

Amy dropped her hands. Her refusal to let Hendrika help was
arousing more suspicions than any reaction she might have if she let Hendrika
help her undress. "All right," she murmured through a tight jaw.

Hendrika stepped closer until Amy thought she could feel her
body heat. A slight touch to Amy's neck, and seconds later, her removable
collar fluttered to the bed.

Amy's limbs wanted to follow and lie down too. Her knees
felt weak. She stared at Hendrika's fingers as they wandered down the button
line and opened each of the eight tiny buttons.

One,
she counted, just to distract herself.

The gentle fingers barely touched her.

Two. Three.

More buttons popped open.

Four.

On their way to the fifth button, Hendrika's fingers brushed
over Amy's bosom. Her breath caught. Her skin felt as if she was once again
standing in the middle of the burning barn. She lost her ability to count.

Finally, the last button opened and Amy pressed her forearm
against her chest to keep her dress from flapping open.

"Do you need help with the corset too?" Hendrika
asked.

"No!" Amy took two hasty steps back. "I
mean... no, thank you."

Hendrika turned her back. "Then I'll wait."

Afraid that Hendrika would want to help her if she
hesitated, Amy wrestled out of her corset and her skirt and rolled down her
stockings. Her skin sparked with life when she ran the wet cloth over it. She
couldn't feel the painful pounding in her hands anymore, maybe because her
heart was hammering too loudly.

In record time, she pulled a pair of clean pants, a shirt,
and an undershirt out of her trunk and put them on. Again, the buttons resisted
her trembling fingers.

Amy bit back a curse. She couldn't stand having Hendrika so
close to her, not with her emotions already so close to the surface.

Finally, she managed to slip the buttons through their
holes. "All done," she announced.
Let's get this over with.
She
needed to get Hendrika out of her room so she could stick her head into the
washbowl and cool off.

Hendrika's gaze wandered up and down her body, starting the
fire along Amy's skin again. "You missed one," Hendrika said and
pointed.

Amy stared at the still open button.

Before she could lift her hands to close it, Hendrika did it
for her. "There."

The breath whooshed out of Amy's lungs, and when Hendrika
turned around to reach for the ointment, she sucked in two quick breaths so she
wouldn't topple over.

It's just buttons
.
Mama helped you with them a
thousand times when you were little.
She wasn't a little girl anymore,
though, and Hendrika was definitely not her mother.

Hendrika cradled one of Amy's hands in hers.

"I..." Amy cleared her throat. "I could do
that myself, you know?"

But Hendrika dipped her finger into the ointment. Gently,
she spread a thin layer of ointment over Amy's palm.

Oh, lord.
Amy's stomach prickled in a strange way.
She wasn't sure if this was heaven or hell.
It's surely the straightest way
to hell if you keep having these thoughts.

Still, she couldn't look away from the fingers stroking over
her palm. "Oh!" The sight of the red mark on Hendrika's fingers
finally pulled her from her stupor. "You got burned too."

Hendrika turned her hand to look at it. "I didn't even
notice. It must have happened when I touched the bolts to open the
stalls."

A strong wave of guilt drowned out Amy's other feelings. She
dipped her finger into the jar and spread a generous layer of ointment over
Hendrika's palm. Her fingers still tingled, but she told herself it was just
the ointment.

Hendrika walked to the door. Her movements were slow and
filled with the leaden exhaustion that Amy felt too. "I'll go check on
your mother, and then I'll head off to bed for an hour. It's been a long
day."

The thought of Hendrika alone in the cabin made Amy blanch.
She had posted guards, but with Adam still out there, she didn't want to take
the risk of something happening to Hendrika. "Stay here," Amy
blurted. Heat crept up her neck. "I mean... we think Adam set the barn
afire, and he might still be out for revenge. I don't want you to stay in the
cabin alone. Use my room."

Hendrika hesitated. "All right."

"I'll go see if Mama needs anything," Amy said and
escaped from the room.

Indian Creek, Oregon
April 27, 1868

"
B
OSS?"
A HAND on her shoulder jerked Luke awake. She lay blinking into the darkness,
expecting to feel the soft touch of Nora's lips against hers, the way she'd
been awakened many times.

Then the hard ground under her blanket reminded her where
she was.

"Boss?" A wide-eyed Charlie looked down at her.
"Two of the horses are gone."

The blanket went flying when Luke jumped up. "Gone? How
can that happen? You were keeping watch, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was, boss. But it's real dark tonight, and they
were wandering around a lot, trying to find some grass."

"You had them hobbled and in a rope corral,
right?" That was what they had done every night since leaving the ranch.

Charlie nodded vigorously.

Luke's jaw tightened. She strode across the small camp and
forced herself to slow down once she reached the herd. She touched a muscular
neck here and a spotted hip there, making sure they were all right and
identifying them in the dim light of the campfire to see who was missing.
"Midnight and Raindrop."

Two of their best geldings. Luke had trained Midnight for
the last three years, and she knew the commander of Fort Boise had his eye on
him. She would have kept the horse for the ranch, but with his all-black coat,
bare of any spots or white blankets, he didn't fit into their breeding program.

Luke scanned the area, trying to pierce the darkness. When
her foot stepped on something soft, she picked it up and carried it to the fire
to see what it was.
The piece of rope we used to hobble them.
The hobble
had been loose enough for them to wander some and eat grass, but tight enough
so they couldn't lope off on their own.

"Did they manage to get rid of the hobble?"
Charlie asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Only if our horses somehow learned to handle knives."
Her jaw bunched as she stared at the cut edges of the hobble. "Someone
stole our horses, and from the ragged edges, I'm betting the Shoshoni helped
themselves to some good horseflesh." Ragged edges meant a stone knife, not
one of steel. If she remembered correctly, the creek where they set up camp was
in Shoshoni territory. Their reputation as horse thieves preceded the Shoshoni.
For their young warriors, stealing horses was a sport.

Not for Luke, though.

"Wake up Phin. We're going after them."

*  *  *

Heat pounded through Luke's veins. Her feet slipped on a
patch of snow. Phin caught her elbow, steadying her. Behind them, the horses
scrambled down the hill too.

They could have made better time riding, but in almost total
darkness, it was too dangerous. Luke didn't want to risk losing another horse,
so she and Phin set out alone, with their own horses trailing behind them,
while Charlie stayed with the rest of the herd.

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