Hidden Truths (36 page)

Instead of jumping back to let Frankie deal with him, Nora
stood her ground. When Adam was almost upon her, she kicked out.

Her boot hit Adam between the legs.

With a groan, he fell back and sank into the straw.

Nora coldly stared at him. "You still haven't learned
not to mess with the Hamilton women, have you? You should know by now that we
can defend ourselves."

"Oh, yeah?" Adam gasped out. He rolled to his
side, still clutching himself. "Messing with Amy was easy. I kicked her
pretty good. I was this close to putting a bullet in her head."

"What?" Nora whirled around to face Frankie.
"What's he talking about? What happened with Amy?"

"Nothing happened to her," Frankie said, her voice
soothing.

"But if you hadn't been there..." Nora didn't
finish her sentence. She didn't want to imagine what might have happened to
Amy, alone out there on the range. The gleam in Adam's eyes told her enough.

Bile rose in her throat, and she had to swallow before she
could talk. "Lock him back up before I take that rifle out of your hands
and shoot him. When you bring him to Oregon City tomorrow, make sure you tell
the judge every little detail of what he's done."

Dizzy with anger and fear, she somehow made it back to the
main house. The silence in the parlor engulfed her, leaving too much room for
her own thoughts, for the images of what Adam might have done to Amy.

Her footfalls on the stairs thudded along with her heart.
With a single knock on the door, she entered Amy's room.

When the light of the lantern fell on two figures in the
bed, Nora remembered that Hendrika was staying in Amy's room too.

Amy opened her eyes and blinked into the sudden light. She
jumped out of bed as if she had done something wrong. Was she feeling guilty
for not telling Nora about Adam attacking her?

Well, she should.

Then Amy clutched her side, and Nora's anger drained away,
leaving only concern.

"Amy! You're hurt?" With trembling hands, she
directed Amy to sit on the edge of the bed. "Where? How bad is it? Why
didn't you tell me?"

Was Amy imitating her "papa"? When Luke was sick
or hurt, she hid it or pretended it was nothing. Going to the doctor or letting
anyone but Nora see her injuries would threaten Luke's life in a way even most
sicknesses couldn't. Was Amy now acting the same way because that's what she
had seen from Luke growing up?

"Mama, I'm fine."

"Show me," Nora said.

Hendrika sat up in bed. "She's fine, Mrs.
Hamilton."

Nora looked away from Amy and met Hendrika's gaze.

"I examined her earlier. Two of her ribs are bruised,
but that's all."

So at least Amy had told Hendrika and let her make sure she
was fine. Some of the tension in Nora's body faded. Still, it felt strange not
to be the one to take care of Amy's scrapes and injuries any longer.
She's a
grown woman now. She doesn't want to come running to her mama every time she
gets hurt.

She didn't miss the grateful glance Amy directed at Hendrika
and the gentle smile she received in return.
They're becoming friends,
Nora
realized. It was what she had hoped for and why she encouraged them to share a
room. Amy had so few friends.

"Let me see, please." She had to see with her own
eyes that Amy was fine. When Amy pulled up her nightshirt, Nora's breath
caught. Anger simmered until she thought steam would come out of her ears. She
wanted to march right back to the pigpen and kick Adam again. Hard.

Careful not to put any pressure on Amy's ribs, she slid her
arms around her and hugged Amy. Her eyes fluttered closed when she felt Amy's
sturdy body rest against her. "You need to be more careful," she
whispered. "Your father and I couldn't stand it if something happened to
you or Nattie."

Amy trembled against her.

"What else did Adam do? Are you hurt anywhere
else?"

"No, I'm fine. He just kicked me, but I hit him a few
times too, just like Papa taught us." Amy stopped trembling. She
straightened and looked at Nora with a proud gleam in her eyes. Then she
swallowed. "Don't tell Papa, please. I don't want him to worry or think
that I can't take care of myself."

"Your father and I promised each other that we'd never
keep secrets from each other," Nora said. "You wouldn't want me to
break that promise, would you?" She brushed a stubborn lock out of Amy's
face.

Amy shook her head.

"Please promise me you'll never try to keep something
like this from me again," Nora said. She kept her gaze on Amy's. "I
know you just wanted to protect me, but risking your health is not the way to
do that."

Bare feet shuffled over the floorboards. "I
promise."

"Thank you. I'll let you two get some sleep now, but
we'll talk more about this tomorrow." For now, it was enough to know Amy
was all right, but tomorrow she would want the details of what had happened.
She kissed Amy's cheek, then leaned across the bed and kissed Hendrika's cheek
too. "Thank you for taking care of her."

Long lashes blinked up at her. "Uh... You're
welcome."

Nora smiled. "Goodnight."

L
UKE'S
GAZE SWEPT over the hills and mountains on both sides of them. Up ahead, two
long, parallel lines wound through the straw-colored grass — ruts that
thousands of wagons had carved into the ground as they made their way through
the Keeney Pass.

It was the only sign of humans in the area. Just the
creaking of their saddles interrupted the rustling of the wind through the long
grass. They were alone in the pass.

Still, the little hairs on the back of Luke's neck prickled.
She kept the hand that didn't hold the reins close to her rifle.

"You all right, boss?" Phin directed his gelding
next to Luke's. Side by side, the horses marched up the steady incline.

"Yeah." Her gaze wandered over the hills.
"But I'll feel better once we have a few more miles between us and Fort
Boise."

Phin studied her. "It's been two days since we left the
fort. By the time they let those three bastards out of their cells, we'll be
long gone."

That was what Sergeant Johnson had promised them. The three
soldiers had been in trouble before, and this time, they wouldn't get away with
a few extra duties. They'd be facing a formal hearing, and the sergeant would
read Luke's statement. "I don't trust Kelling. I have a feeling he's doing
a lot of things without his superiors' knowledge, and if he's out to take
revenge on me..."

Phin adjusted the scabbard on his saddle, making sure his
rifle was within easy reach. "We better keep an eye out for trouble."

*  *  *

Warm lips moved over Luke's. They breathed little kisses
over her cheek; then gentle teeth bit down on her earlobe.

Luke moaned. "Mmm, Nora." She stretched her neck
to give Nora easier access.

A trail of hot kisses wandered down her neck, sending
shivers of delight down her body. The caressing lips stopped when they encountered
a barrier — Luke's shirt. Dazed, Luke took her hands from the familiar curves
of Nora's body and reached up to open the shirt.

"No." Nora's breath brushed over Luke's
collarbone. "Lie still and let me do this."

When Luke sank back, Nora opened the top button of her
shirt. She pressed her lips to the bare skin, then moved her fingers to the
next button. The fabric of the shirt fell open under Nora's eager fingers.

Teasing nails scraped over the bandages that bound Luke's
chest.

Luke arched her back.

"Open your eyes," Nora said. "Open your eyes,
Luke."

Luke opened her eyes.

Instead of the enchanting green of Nora's eyes, her gaze
found the hazy gray light of dawn. Luke blinked. She lifted her hands and
touched her shirt.

All the buttons were closed.

Luke rubbed her hand over her chest, feeling Nora's elusive
touch. A breath of longing escaped her. Nora wasn't there. She was still three
hundred and fifty miles away.

Going back to sleep was impossible now. She might as well
get up and see if Phin had put on some coffee.

She was about to throw off her blanket and sit up, but her
instincts stopped her. Something didn't feel right. Not moving, she listened to
the sounds around her and peered through half-closed lids into the gray light.

Phin, who had the last watch, sat next to the fire, drawing
lazy patterns in the ashes with a stick. To her left, a staccato of snores
indicated that Charlie was still asleep.

Her gaze wandered to the horses.

Dancer stood with his head held high. His ears flicked in
every direction as if trying to pinpoint the source of a sound.

Cold fear gripped Luke.

Someone was out there, watching them.

Luke slid her hand under the blanket. The worn wooden grip
of her revolver felt soothing against her fingers. Without a sound, she slid
the weapon out of its holster.

A snort from one of the horses interrupted the silence
between two of Charlie's snores.

Phin's head jerked up.

Luke tensed her muscles, ready to jump up. Her gaze darted
around.

Shadows moved at the edge of their camp.

A shot shattered the morning's peace.

Luke rolled to her left, away from the fire.

More shots. A bullet scratched along the saddle she'd used
as a pillow, raining tiny pieces of leather down on her.

Two men ran up the hill toward her.

Where's Phin?

No time to look around. She got to her feet and squeezed off
two quick shots, forcing the attackers to stop their fast approach. With her
free hand, she grabbed the still half-asleep Charlie and dragged him with her.
Her searching eyes found no cover.

Their only chance was to run down the other side of the
hill, out of reach of their attacker's weapons, and then shoot them as soon as
the two men crested the hill.

"Come on, Charlie!" She raced toward the crest of
the hill, stopping to take a shot at the men following them whenever they came
too close.

A bullet smashed into Charlie's leg.

He cried out and fell.

Luke whirled around, her revolver raised. She crouched down
next to Charlie and tried to get him up.

"Go!" Charlie waved her away. "Get out of
here before they shoot you too!"

Running footsteps came closer.

"Stay down," Luke hissed. She refused to leave
Charlie, who didn't even have a weapon.

A flash from a muzzle lit up the semi-darkness.

Luke dived to her belly and squeezed the trigger, aiming for
the shadowy shape behind the flash.

With a gurgling scream, the man went down.

Where's his friend?
Luke squinted into the gray
half-light.

There!

Behind his fallen friend, the second man swung up his
revolver and aimed at Luke.

Luke squeezed the trigger again.

Click.

The hammer fell on an empty chamber.

Luke looked into the grinning face of Bill Walters.
"Bet you wish you hadn't interrupted our bit of fun now," he said,
walking closer.

The muzzle of his revolver pointed right at Luke.

"Forcing yourself on a woman is not a 'bit of fun.'"
Luke glared at him. "You are a soldier. Where's your sense of honor?"

"I'm no longer a soldier, thanks to you." Hatred
blazed in his eyes. He pulled back the hammer of his revolver with a resounding
click.

Sweat trickled down Luke's back. She tensed her muscles,
even knowing that she couldn't outrun a bullet. She would be dead before she
made it to her feet.

The moment when he squeezed the trigger was telegraphed in
Walters's eyes.

Luke rolled to the left, but the booming shot rang out
sooner than she expected.

No pain came.

Luke glanced up.

Walters lay facedown in the grass, his right hand still
clasping his revolver.

Phin stood over the dead man. Blood dripped from his arm.

Luke got to her feet and walked toward him. "You all
right?"

Unfocused blue eyes stared in Luke's direction, then at Bill
Walters. "I shot him. I think he's dead." A tremor ran through Phin's
tall body.

Luke had seen it before. Phin was a tough man, his body
hardened and reflexes sharpened by his work with the horses, but he wasn't used
to gunfights. Luke realized this was probably the first time he had shot at a
man, let alone killed one.

She knelt and rolled the motionless Walters onto his back.
Sightless eyes stared at her. Blood drops trembled on blades of grass.

Phin turned away. Retching sounds came from where he
crouched behind a shrub of sagebrush.

The part of Luke that Nora called the "mother hen"
wanted to rush over, but she had lived among men long enough to know she would
only embarrass Phin. She was his mentor, a father figure, and he wouldn't want
her to see him so weak.

Acid burned in her throat when she took the revolver from
Walters's stiffening fingers. Then she knelt down next to Charlie.

He was sitting up, clutching his leg.

"Let me see," she said. She slid off his boot and
pushed up his pant leg.

Blood streamed down Charlie's calf. Luke probed with gentle
fingers.

Charlie flinched. He stared at his leg, his face pale.

"The bullet is lodged in the fleshy part of your calf.
You're lucky that it didn't shatter your bone."

"I don't feel lucky," Charlie grumbled. "Is
Phin all right? He got that bastard, right?"

Luke nodded and used her bandanna to put a bandage around
Charlie's calf. It would stop the bleeding until she secured the camp, checked
the horses, and made sure the third soldier had stayed behind in Fort Boise,
nursing his wounded thigh.

She helped Charlie settle down on his bedroll, then walked
over to Phin.