by Jae
"You can't have this one," Amy said, sounding like Luke when she had made up her mind about something.
"Amy." Nora put a warning growl into her voice. "She's our guest and it's her money."
"Not this horse." Amy squared her shoulders. "Remember when I tried to ride a yearling when I was little? The result would be the same. Pairing a green horse with a green rider is a bad idea. I'll think of something else to pay back the money."
Pride warmed Nora. Her sometimes hotheaded daughter was taking her responsibility as the ranch's caretaker seriously. "Let's get out of the rain and make proper introductions inside." She asked one of their ranch hands to unload the wagon and take care of the horses and then herded the two younger women into the house.
She watched Johanna take in the short divan, the armchairs, the china cabinet, and the rolltop desk in one corner of the parlor. What would a woman from back East think of the home they had built for themselves? Nora was proud of her home, but the young Boston ladies she had known twenty years ago would have frowned upon it.
But with her simple dress and no large dowry, Johanna was clearly not a Boston Brahman but a working-class girl.
Johanna's serious face revealed nothing. The young woman was hard to figure out. Nora guessed her to be two years older than Amy. In her dark eyes lurked a caution that was absent from her daughters' gazes.
Nora offered her guest a place near the hearth and watched her settle into an armchair. The carpetbag never left the young woman's hands.
That could have been me seventeen years ago, Nora realized. Before meeting Luke, she had never trusted anyone, maybe with the exception of Tess Swenson, her only friend back then. Her marriage with Luke had started out as unconventionally as Phin's arrangement with a mail-order bride. One difference, though. I doubt she will discover something so shocking about her new husband. Nora hid a grin. Now she could laugh about it, but seventeen years ago, she had thought her world had come to an end when she found out her husband was a woman.
"So, you are Johanna Bruggeman," Nora said. "Phin has told us so much about you."
Johanna's pale face took on an even pastier shade.
Is she nervous about us knowing what she wrote Phin in his letters?
"Please call me Hendrika," the young woman said. "In Holland, where my family comes from, we tend to use our middle names."
Right, she's from Holland. That explained the exotic cadence to the familiar Boston accent.
"I'm Nora Hamilton." She gestured toward Amy. "And I guess you already met my daughter Amy. I hope you won't hold her appearance against her. I promise she doesn't always look like a scarecrow. And we'll work something out to give you back your money."
Amy clamped her hands around the backrest of Luke's favorite armchair.
"It's already forgotten," Hendrika said, and Nora thought she detected a flash of honesty beneath the polite mask.
"You'll meet Nattie, my other daughter, later. She's visiting with the neighbors but will be home in time for supper. It'll be just enough time for you to settle in and wash up."
A nod from Hendrika answered her.
"Amy, I thought she could share your room until she feels more at home here," Nora said.
Now it was Amy who went pale. "Share my room? Why can't she stay in Phin's cabin?"
"That cabin needs a good scrubbin' before it's fit for a woman," Nora said. "And I don't want her to be on her own. I thought it would be nice if she could stay at the main house until Phin gets back. You're out on the range for most of the day anyway, so you won't get in each other's way."
Her suggestion didn't meet with enthusiastic agreement from either of the young women. Hendrika's grip on her carpetbag tightened until Nora thought she might break a knuckle. Hendrika looked at Amy. "I'll be fine in the cabin," she said. "I don't want to be in the way."
"You're not —"
"The cabin is fine," Hendrika said. "If you could show me the way, I can get my things stowed away and then come back to help with supper."
Ah. Nora recognized the proud glint in Hendrika's eyes. Twenty years ago, Nora would have said the same. Before she met Luke, she had believed she had to pay for everything she received one way or another. Love and friendship had been unfamiliar concepts for her. She hoped that as part of the Hamilton Ranch, Hendrika Bruggeman would become familiar with both.
* * *
The cabin's door creaked open.
Needs to be oiled. Rika added the first item to her list of things she could do to help out around the ranch.
The musky smells of wood smoke, damp earth, and linseed oil engulfed Rika as soon as she entered the cabin. Her boots stepped onto packed earth. After the boarding house's oak floor and stone walls, the cabin's dirt floor and rough-hewn logs would take some getting used to, but Rika knew she would make do with whatever life threw at her.
Amy slipped past her and lit a kerosene lamp. When she turned up the wick, the flickering light revealed a table charred black on one side. No cook stove. Very likely, the cooking was done at the main house. Shelves held broken bridles and harnesses the cabin's owner hadn't gotten around to repairing.
A carpet might be nice. And the hearth needs to be cleaned.
In the light of the kerosene lamp, she walked to the bedroom while Amy followed. A brass bedstead warred for space with a low dresser, a chest at the foot of the bed, and a washstand.
Amy's gaze followed Rika's, and she looked as if she was trying to see the small cabin through Rika's eyes. She cleared her throat. "I know it's not much. It was the first home my father built when we arrived in Oregon, so it's rather simple."
"It's quite all right," Rika said. "I didn't live in a palace in Boston either." Her words brought with them the image of a dilapidated house and of nights lying awake, listening to rain drip through the leaky roof while Willem was out drinking.
White teeth flashed in the low light when Amy chewed on her lip. "Maybe Mama was right. If you want, you can have my room in the main house and I could sleep over here."
That wasn't what Amy's mother had suggested. Why would Amy rather give up her room than share it with Rika? Rika drew her brows together. Had she done anything to make Amy suspicious? Or did Amy simply dislike strangers or women from the East?
"No, thank you," Rika answered. "If your family lived here once, I'll be fine here too." If she stayed at the cabin, she could at least get used to her new home before having to share it with the stranger who would become her husband.
Rika set down her carpetbag at the foot of the bed and pulled out her only clean skirt. When she peeked into the pitcher on the washstand, she found that it still held some water that smelled fresh enough. She poured the water into the bowl and looked around for a piece of soap and a towel.
"Here." Amy, apparently familiar with where things were kept in the cabin, handed her a towel and soap. "I'll go and look in on the horses before supper. The gray mare needs some ointment."
The door closed behind her before Rika could answer.
* * *
Rika stared at the ranch hands, who laughed and teased during supper. She watched Amy and her dark-haired sister, Nattie, heap second helpings of chicken and dumplings onto their plates, not afraid of being thought unladylike.
Story after story distracted her, and Rika paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. In her family, meals had been a silent affair, the children too afraid of angering their father by chattering on and on.
Fear and silence didn't rule this family, though.
"They named her Emeline Anna Buchanan, after her grandmother," Nattie said. "Little Emmy took quite a long time to arrive. Twenty hours of labor! Can you believe it?"
"I sure can." Her mother grinned. "It took you all night to be born too. And we were stuck in the middle of the Blue Mountains, with no neighbors, midwives, or doctors around. Your father was a mess."
Everyone around the table laughed as if it was common knowledge and they had all teased Mr. Hamilton about it a tho
usand times.
"Twenty hours," Amy mumbled. "Then I'd rather have a foal than a baby. Horses are quick about it. No big fuss."
Her mother looked up with twinkling eyes. "That's what you said when your sister was born too. You asked your father if you could have a filly instead."
"Thanks a lot, Amy." Nattie pinched her sister.
Plates rattled when Amy's knee hit the table.
"Everything all right with the food, Hendrika?" Nora asked. "You're not eating."
Rika stared at her food. "Oh, no, the food is wonderful. I'm just a bit worn out from the long journey."
The gaze of Nattie's probing gray-green eyes met Rika. "You've certainly come a long way just to marry a stranger. A ranch in Oregon is a far cry from Boston."
She's testing me. Rika clamped her hand around the fork. "It sure is," she said as evenly as she could. "And I'm looking forward to it."
"But if you are to marry a ranch hand, are you sure you won't come to resent him if you have to live without all the amenities in Boston?" Nattie's brow knitted, but her eyes shone. "I hear they even have gas streetlamps in Boston."
Rika took a bite of chicken and nodded. "Yes, but that doesn't mean life in Boston is easy. The gas lighting is also used in the cotton mill, making it possible to work until late into the night. Believe me, I'm no stranger to hard work."
"What's gotten into you, Nattie?" Nora shook her head at her daughter. "Stop questioning the poor girl like that. I'm sure she'll make a wonderful wife for Phin." When Nattie lowered her gaze, Nora turned to Rika. "You said in your letters you were born in Holland?"
Rika's throat constricted and made the chicken hard to swallow. Oh, gracious. She read Jo's letters... and I didn't. Rika knew only Phineas's end of the conversation, not what Jo had told him about herself. Her appetite was gone, but she shoved another piece of chicken into her mouth to indicate that she was too busy to give long answers. Again, she just nodded.
"What's Holland like?" Nattie asked, friendlier this time. "Does it look a little like Oregon?"
Jo would know. Unlike Rika, Jo's family had sailed to America when she was ten, so she remembered Holland well. Rika's home, however, had always been Boston.
Her father rarely talked about the past. Only sometimes, when he was sober, had he told her stories about her mother and about their home in Holland. Rika tried to remember but was distracted when she found she couldn't recall her mother's face. The only picture of her mother had stayed behind when Rika had left her family.
Curious gazes rested on her, and Rika pulled herself together. "It's not like Oregon at all. It's a flat land, with almost no hills." Her mind flashed back to snowcapped Mount Hood, which Amy had pointed out on the way to the ranch. Rika's parents had grown up without ever laying eyes on such a mountain. "There's water everywhere — rivers, canals, lakes, and the North Sea. Windmills pump water out of the polders that keep the land from flooding."
Rika remembered the drawing in their parlor. Her mother had penciled in an endless sky, rippling water, and numerous green windmills dotting the landscape.
"You miss it," Amy said from the other side of the table. It was the first time during supper that she addressed Rika directly.
How can I miss what I don't even remember?
She looked at Amy, who glanced at her plate. "It was a long time ago. I'm sure I will feel right at home here."
Hamilton Horse Ranch
Baker Prairie, Oregon
April 20, 1868
"WHOO, HOO-HOO, hooo." The owl's call greeted Amy when she stepped onto the veranda. She peered into the darkness but couldn't make out the bird. It was probably perched on a branch somewhere, waiting to swoop down on unsuspecting prey. Amy knew it was the male, because she had observed them many times. Owls mated for life. Now he was out hunting food for the female, who sat on eggs in their nest.
Kind of like Papa, she thought with a smile. Unlike the lady owl, the Hamilton women weren't just sitting around, waiting for him to get back, though. Amy had a ranch to run, and the responsibility of it kept her up at night. She held out her hand and felt soft drizzle touch her fingertips. If the rain keeps up, I'll have to bring in the herd from the east pasture. And someone needs to check on the yearlings.
With Kit, Charlie, and Phin gone, they were short on ranch hands. She had to time all the different tasks just right to make sure everything got done. Worry gnawed at her. Papa had taught her well, but would the ranch hands think so too? Hank and Toby would probably go along with her orders, if only out of respect for Papa. But what about Adam? Whenever Papa handed out tasks that required two people to work together, Adam made sure he was already partnered with another ranch hand so he wouldn't need to work with Amy. But now that she was the boss, he couldn't avoid her any longer.
I need to show him that I won't allow him to question my authority.
Amy glanced at the dark sky. A curtain of clouds hid the twinkling stars, offering no guidance.
The door to Phin's cabin opened, and a ray of light danced across the ranch yard. Hendrika stepped outside.
Quickly, Amy took a step back, seeking refuge in the darkness.
Hendrika directed her gaze at the sky.
Was she seeking guidance too? Or maybe she was just enjoying the fresh air after being stuck in a stuffy stagecoach all day. Amy didn't know. She often found she didn't understand other women at all.
When Hendrika retreated into the cabin, Amy turned and headed inside too. Tomorrow would be a long, hard day, and if she wanted to prove herself to the ranch hands, she needed to get some sleep.
* * *
Rika trudged across the ranch yard in the gray light of dawn. After a sleepless night, her eyes burned as if all the trail dust from Boston to Oregon had accumulated in them, but she forced herself to keep moving. Seeking out work instead of waiting for orders had served her well so far. It had gotten her promoted from the dusty roving room to the weave room with its tidy aisles and better light, and it would help her establish herself as a hardworking, reliable woman — good wife material — before Phineas came home.
She rubbed some color into her cheeks and knocked on the main house's door.
It opened, and Nora stood in the doorway, drying her hands on her apron. "Oh, good morning. Come on in." She held the door open for Rika. "I hope you slept well."
"Like a baby," Rika answered. Well, like a colicky baby, she added, but she couldn't explain why she was so nervous about the future. Besides, she found it hard to fall asleep in such a quiet place, with no clatter from the street and no mill girls snoring and coughing.
When Rika entered the kitchen, Nattie gave her a quick wave before she turned back to the stove.
Bacon sizzled in a frying pan, and the smell made Rika's mouth water. "Can I help in any way?"
Nora pulled a baking pan of golden-brown biscuits from the oven and gestured to the china cabinet. "You could just sit and relax, but if you want to, you could set the table."
Rika took the stack of plates and set them on the table the way she remembered from supper.
"Oh, no, it's just us this morning," Nora said. "One of our neighbors came over before sunrise to tell us that our fence is down in the western pasture. Amy and the boys already left to mend it, and they won't be back until later."
Amy and the boys. Did Amy really do a man's work around the ranch? Did the Hamiltons think nothing of letting their daughter tame wild horses and mend fences?
She had barely seen Amy since she had arrived, but it was hard to tell whether it was ranch work that kept Amy so busy or if she was avoiding Rika for some reason. While Nora was very welcoming, her daughters seemed more ambivalent about her presence.
"I have to pay a visit to our neighbors today," Nora said when they sat down for breakfast. "I promised Ruth to come see the baby as soon as it was born, but I put it off yesterday because I didn't want you to arrive to an empty house."
A piece of egg almost lodged in Rika's throat. She stayed home to
make me feel welcome? No one had ever changed her plans because of her. Maybe Nora was just being nice to make up for Phineas's absence.
"I can't put it off again today," Nora said, "but I thought you might like to come with me and meet the neighbors."
Rika clamped her hand around her fork. Meeting the neighbors would mean answering more questions about her past and having to come up with more lies. "Oh, I thought I'd clean the cabin today."
"Are you sure you don't want to wait and have some help with that?"
"I could help her, Mama," Nattie said before Rika could answer.
The offer was polite, but Rika didn't want to be a burden. "That's nice of you, but I'm sure you have your own chores."
