Hidden Truths (62 page)

"You mean is it strange for me to know that we're both
picking flowers for a woman?"

Amy nodded, glad that Papa said it for her.

Two more roses completed Papa's bouquet. She paused and let
her gaze sweep over the meadow. "No. I think it will be harder for me once
Nattie comes home with a suitor. I can relate to you loving a woman."

Sometimes, it was still hard for Amy to remember that her
father was like her — a woman who loved another woman. At the same time, it
made things easier for her. If she ever got up enough courage, she could ask
her parents for advice. She nodded thoughtfully and used her knife to cut all
the stems to the same length.

Papa's gaze rested on her.

Amy fidgeted until she almost cut herself.

"Something on your mind?" Papa asked.

Something? A million things.
A dozen different
thoughts, questions, and emotions spun through Amy's mind.

Papa took the knife away from her. "What is it? You
know you can talk to me about anything."

Amy looked down at grass-stained fingertips. "If you
hadn't been able to marry Mama, would you still..."

"What?"

Heat climbed up Amy's chest, and she knew her cheeks were
glowing. "Would you still want to... to live with her and kiss her like a
husband would?"

"Of course I would." Papa rubbed the ring on her
hand. "A few words spoken in front of a judge or a priest don't change how
I feel about Nora." Her eyes narrowed. "But this isn't really about
your mother and me, is it? What are you asking?"

"Rika has been married once, but I can't offer her
that."

"You can offer her love."

"Yes, and that's what has me so..." Other words
formed in Amy's head, but she couldn't say them.

Papa laid down her bunch of flowers and gripped Amy's hand
with both of hers. "Amy, your mother and I took a big risk by telling you
the truth about us. We did that because we wanted you to have someone you could
talk to about your feelings. So please, whatever it is, don't think you have to
go through this alone."

Remnants of hurt about not being told sooner still lingered
within Amy, but it paled in comparison to her gratitude. She lifted her gaze
and looked into Papa's silver-gray eyes. "Is it right to want to kiss Rika
and to... to touch her if we're not married and will never be?"

"Come here." Papa sank into the grass and nodded
at Amy to sit down next to her.

Her cheeks still burning, Amy sat. At least this way, she
wouldn't have to look Papa in the eyes.

"When I married your mother, I promised to love, honor,
and cherish her for the rest of our lives," Papa said. "If you can
promise Rika the same, if it's not just a passing infatuation, then I think you
should consider yourself married — with all the rights and obligations that
come with it."

It sounded so simple. Maybe it was. But what if she had no
earthly idea how to go about fulfilling certain rights and obligations? Amy
pinched her nose.

"What is it?" Papa asked.

Amy combed her fingers through the grass and stared at the
ground. "The girls in town... I heard them talk about the marriage
bed."

"Oh." Papa swept off her hat and fanned her face
with it. Was she blushing? Then she put down her hat and gave Amy a sidelong
glance. "So, what did they say?"

Amy hesitated. A young woman wasn't supposed to talk to her
father about such intimate matters. But her father was not like any other
father. "They said women are supposed to lift their nightgown, lie back,
and wait until their husbands are finished with... their business. But Rika and
I..." She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "What do you do
when there is no husband?"

Papa plucked a blade of grass and studied it as if the
answer were written on the green stalk.

Lord, how embarrassing. I shouldn't have asked.
Amy
pulled her knees up and leaned her forehead against them, hiding her flushed
face.

When she opened her mouth to apologize for her inappropriate
question, Papa finally spoke, "Well, if two people love each other, I
would hope that the marriage bed holds more for them than just lying back and
waiting until it's over, no matter if they are husband and wife or two
women."

Amy wanted to ask how, but embarrassment kept her jaw
locked. She licked dry lips and ripped out handfuls of grass. Loving Rika
wasn't the problem. She just didn't know what to do with all those feelings of
love and passion that were bottled up inside of her. "B-but what if I
don't know what to do?" she blurted before she could stop herself.
"What if I get it all wrong?"

"If you touch her with love, you can't go wrong, Amy.
Think of her pleasure first and foremost, not just your own."

When Amy lifted her head off her knees, she met Papa's
steady gaze. Holding her gaze was hard, but she didn't want to miss a word Papa
said.

"If you have ever pleasured yourself, you know what
feels good to you."

Heat seared through Amy. She ducked her head to hide her
flushed cheeks.

Papa tapped Amy's knee and got her to look up. "Rika
might like to be touched the same way. Ask her what feels good to her, and let
her know what feels good to you," Papa said. "Listen to what her body
says. Just keep talking, and you'll be fine."

Not sure what to say, Amy just nodded.

"If you think of it as a marriage, you have a lot of
time together, not just one night. Even if the first time isn't perfect, Rika
won't love you any less. You have the rest of your lives to get to know each
other's bodies, so don't put so much pressure on yourself, all right?"

"All right." Amy took a freeing breath. Her
embarrassment waned, and she squared her shoulders, proud to be having this
conversation between adults with her father. "Thank you, Papa."

Papa squeezed her shoulder. "You're welcome." She
stood and brushed a few stalks of grass from her pants. Her flowers in one
hand, she rested the other on Amy's shoulder. "Come on. Let's go and bring
our loves these flowers before they wilt away."

*  *  *

Rika dipped the brush into the bucket of soapy water and
scrubbed the floorboards with both hands, putting all her weight into it.

"Easy, easy." Tess paused in the doorway and
laughed. "We need those boards, you know?"

"Sorry." With some effort, Rika slowed her frantic
scrubbing.

"Are you, by any chance, in a hurry?" Tess asked.

"No, it's just... No."

But Tess's knowing grin told her that her employer already
knew why Rika was so eager to finish her work for the day. "Amy promised
she would come over and take you out riding, didn't she?"

Rika took one hand off the brush and rubbed her cheek. It
felt hot. "I'm behaving like a smitten young girl, not like a
twenty-three-year-old widowed woman, aren't I?" When she thought of Amy,
she felt like a smitten young girl. Butterflies swarmed in her belly whenever
she daydreamed about Amy kissing her hello or holding her hand during a stroll
over their meadow.

Smiling, Tess walked over and took the brush from Rika's
hands. "You're acting like a woman in love, and there's nothing wrong with
that."

Here, in the safe haven of the hotel, Rika had come to
believe that. When Amy came to visit, Tess and Frankie welcomed her with open
arms. They provided them with a place to meet in the hotel or gave Rika the
afternoon off so she could ride out to the ranch and spend time with Amy.

The stairs creaked, and then Frankie poked her head into the
room. "There's a suitor here to call on you."

"Who?" Rika ground her teeth together. It wasn't
the first time one of Baker Prairie's bachelors had knocked on their door, but
Rika didn't want to see any of them. "Send him away."

"I'm sorry, Amy," Frankie called down the stairs.
"Rika doesn't want to —"

"Amy?" Warmth rushed through Rika's belly. She
jumped to her feet, hurried past Tess, and nudged Frankie aside. "Amy,
wait, I'm coming!" On the first step, she remembered that she was supposed
to scrub the floor and turned back.

"Go," Tess said. "I'll finish up here."

Taking the stairs two at a time, Rika hurried down to the
parlor and smoothed her hands over her wrinkled skirt. When she saw Amy
fidgeting next to the front door, she slid to a stop and drank her in — the
wind-blown hair, the glowing green eyes, and the slender hand worrying her hat.

"You're here already," Rika said, suddenly
tongue-tied.

"Yes. Oh, here. These are for you." Amy brought
her other hand out from behind her back and presented a beautiful bouquet of
wildflowers. "I picked them on our meadow."

Their fingers touched when Rika took the flowers, and Rika
let the touch linger for a moment, enjoying the tingles that shot through her
body. Then she lifted the flowers to her nose. As she inhaled their sweet
scent, she remembered how Amy had told her about Mr. Garfield picking flowers
for his wife. Now she, too, had someone who loved her enough to waste an hour
of daylight to pick flowers for her. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

After a quick glance left and right, she pulled Amy into the
kitchen, leaned forward, and kissed her on the lips.

When Amy dropped her hat and wrapped both arms around her,
Rika pressed closer until the scent of leather, horse, and Amy swept over her.
Drowning in Amy, intoxicated, she teased the corner of Amy's mouth with her
tongue.

Their tongues slid against each other. Amy moaned and nearly
bit down in surprise.

Rika drew back and whispered a kiss against Amy's lips.
"Careful." She brushed a few red locks from Amy's face and cleared
her dry throat. "Did you bring Cin?"

"Yes," Amy said, her voice so husky that Rika
wanted to kiss her again. "He's waiting for you right outside."

"Then let's go." Rika took Amy's hand and pulled
her out of the kitchen and to the door. Maybe they could ride out to their
meadow, and she could pick some flowers for Amy, just to show her that she
loved her enough to waste an hour of daylight too.

*  *  *

When they walked toward the hotel's hitching rail, Alex
Tolridge, the doctor's son, stepped down from the boardwalk.

Amy tried to walk around him, wanting to finally be alone
with Rika, but Alex approached them.

He doffed his hat. "Amy, Miss Bruggeman."

"Aaldenberg," Rika said. At his startled glance,
she added, "Bruggeman is my late husband's name. I decided to use my
maiden name from now on."

Another lie,
Amy thought. But at least this one would
enable Rika to live without lying about her name for the rest of her life.

Alex worried his hat between his hands. "Well, then,
Miss Aaldenberg... I was wondering if you would do me the honor of accompanying
me on a stroll around town."

Amy's nostrils flared. She bunched her hands into fists but
had to watch as Alex directed a hopeful grin at Rika. A bitter taste coated her
tongue, and she wanted to spit out.
Is this how it's going to be? Will I
have to watch while every bachelor in town tries to court her?

"I appreciate the kind offer, Mister..."

"Tolridge," he supplied.

Rika gave a nod. "Mr. Tolridge. As I said, I appreciate
the offer, but I'm terribly sorry. I'm sure you realize I came west to marry
Mr. Sharpe."

"But you didn't," Alex said.

"Because I realized that after losing my late husband,
a veteran of the War, I couldn't bear to remarry." Rika held his gaze, the
picture of sincerity.

Because she is sincere,
Amy realized.
She can't
bear to remarry, but not because she's still in love with her dead husband.
She's in love with me.
At the thought, her fists uncurled and the tension
in her shoulders dissipated.

"I understand." Alex settled the rumpled hat back
on his head.

When he gave a small bow and walked away, Rika called after
him, "Oh, Mr. Tolridge?"

He turned around.

"Would you please let your bachelor friends know? It
would spare them and me a lot of embarrassment if they didn't approach me with
marital intentions."

"Of course." Alex hurried away, saving the remains
of his dignity.

Rika looped her arm through Amy's, and they strolled toward
the horses.

"You're incredible," Amy said. Instead of
condemning her to suffer in silence, Rika had solved the problem once and for
all.

"No, I'm not." Rika shook her head in her typical
down-to-earth modesty. "I just finally learned not to settle for what I
can have, but to strive for what I want."

Amy held her breath for a moment. "And that's me?"

Rika nodded.

Happiness flowed through Amy like golden sunlight. "Then
we both have something to strive for."

"
T
HIS
IS HEARTBREAKING," Rika said, raising her voice over the whinnying of the
weanlings. She clutched the corral rail, then turned to Amy.

Amy smiled, once again touched by Rika's compassion. The
urge to stroke Rika's cheek made her fingers itch, but she curled them into
fists. With the ranch hands riding around or sitting on the corral rails, they
weren't free to touch each other. "The foals will be fine. They're old
enough to be separated from their mothers." She slung one arm around
Rika's shoulder, careful to make it appear like the casual gesture of a friend,
and pulled her closer, comforting her with her warmth. "See how big Lucky
Star is getting?"

They turned and watched the black filly galloping around the
corral in search of her mother.

"Your father won't sell her, will he?" Rika asked,
switching to male pronouns since the ranch hands and a few neighbors were
within hearing distance.

"Oh, no." Amy wanted to lean closer and inhale the
scent of sun-warmed grass on Rika's skin, but she held herself back. "Not
when Lucky has been such a good-luck charm for me."