Hidden Trusts

by Jae

  "Ruby is the boss? I thought the stallion is the boss of the herd?" Were the Hamilton horses as unusual and liberal as their owners and had appointed a mare herd leader?

  Amy smoothly slid into the saddle and pulled her mare around to face Rika. "The stallion protects the herd against predators or other stallions, but the real boss is the lead mare. She knows where the best food and the best route to safety are. The others trust her to make the right decision."

  Rika watched Amy. Amy sat loosely in the saddle, tall but relaxed. Instead of gripping the reins, her fingers held them so lightly that it seemed she didn't need them to steer the horse. Her legs held gentle contact with the mare, as if they were conversing through their bodies. Sudden envy or maybe longing gripped Rika. She didn't have that easy understanding with anyone, not even an animal.

  "Ready?" Amy asked.

  Her hand around the reins felt sweaty, but Rika nodded, not wanting to look scared and incompetent in front of the tough Amy.

  The red mare started to walk, but whatever signals Amy gave her had been so smooth that Rika didn't see them.

  Cinnamon's muscles tensed beneath her, and he arched his neck, but he didn't follow Ruby. How on earth do I get him to move?

  Amy turned around in the saddle. "You changed your mind?"

  "Um, no, I just... I'm a bit rusty. How do I get him to move again?"

  Ruby pivoted and came trotting back. Amy squinted at Rika. "How can you not remember something that basic? How long has it been since you have ridden a horse?"

  "A while," Rika said. "But if you're patient with me, I'm sure it'll all come back to me quickly." She'd always been a quick learner, so by the time they reached the herd, she should at least be able to stay in the saddle.

  Amy rolled her eyes. "Your memory must be as leaky as a sieve. Move your hand with the reins forward to give Cinnamon's head room to move and squeeze his sides with your calves."

  Rika thrust her hand forward and squeezed with her legs.

  Cinnamon took a step, and Rika clutched the saddle horn.

  "Relax," Amy said. It seemed to be the order of the day. "Loosen your legs. If you keep squeezing, Cin will think you believe he's dumb and didn't understand you the first time you told him to walk."

  The big body under Rika swayed from side to side as the gelding moved his hind legs. His head bobbed up and down as if nodding to Amy's words.

  Amy turned in the saddle and watched her. "You really are rusty. Don't stiffen up. Move your hips with his movements."

  It looked so easy and effortless for Amy. She and Ruby moved as one, in perfect harmony. A ray of sunshine slipped between two piles of gray clouds. With her hat dangling on a rawhide string down her back, Amy's hair gleamed the same coppery red as her mare's coat.

  Rika slowly relaxed as the horses carried them away from the ranch. The rhythmic cadence of the horses' steps mingled with the creaking of Amy's saddle whenever she turned around to make sure Rika was still all right. A pine-scented breeze blew through Rika's hair and played with Cinnamon's mane.

  Finally, Rika's gaze lifted from the horse beneath her. She took in the long lines of mountains rising in the distance to the east and the west. Did all this land belong to the Hamiltons?

  Every once in a while, they passed little groups of horses, all of them carrying a four-leaf clover brand on their spotted hips.

  Rika pointed. "Is that the sign that says they are yours?"

  "The Shamrock brand, yes."

  "Why the shamrock? Is your father Irish?" Despite his absence, Amy's father seemed present everywhere on the ranch. The ranch hands talked about him with an admiration and respect that Rika had never held for Mr. Macauley or any other employer.

  Amy shook her head. "The four leaves represent the four of us — Papa, Mama, Nattie, and me."

  Growing up with a father like that was hard for Rika to imagine. "What if your parents had another child after the horses were branded?"

  "Hm." Amy's brows pulled together. "Guess they were pretty confident that they wouldn't have another."

  The ground beneath the horses' hooves got even muddier. The splashing and gurgling let Rika know they were close to a river, and moments later, the glittering band appeared behind a row of cottonwoods.

  "The water is really high for this time of the year," Amy said, her brow wrinkled. "We could sure use some of your Dutch windmills now to drain the land."

  Ribbons of fog swirled along the river and then lifted to reveal the shape of a large, bluish-gray bird standing along the riverbank. Its yellow beak shot out and splashed into the water.

  "A blue heron." Amy reined in her horse to watch the bird fish.

  Rika's horse kept walking. "Amy?" she squeaked. "How do I get him to stop? Do I just tell him 'whoa'?" That's what she'd heard her father say to their horse.

  "Dammit. You lied to me. You've never been on a horse, have you?" Amy glared at her. "You don't need to say anything. Horses listen to what your body says. If you stop moving with him and sit deep in the saddle, he'll stop."

  They listen to what my body says? Rika wondered what her stiff posture was telling Cinnamon. "And if he doesn't?" she asked as the gelding carried her past Amy.

  "Then you help him understand with the reins. Just pick them up a little. Don't yank them back, or the bit will hurt his mouth."

  Rika tugged at her reins, and Cinnamon came to a stop. Relief flowed through Rika, and she imagined communicating it to Cinnamon through her body. She unclamped one sweaty hand from around the saddle horn and patted his neck. "Good boy."

  At their loud voices, the blue heron lifted its long neck and turned its face toward them. With a croak, it pumped large wings and took flight.

  "Oh, no. Did we chase it off?"

  "Don't worry," Amy said. "He or she's just checking in with his partner sitting on the eggs. Their young ones will hatch soon." She pointed at the bird, following its flight until it landed on top of a cottonwood.

  Rika counted half a dozen large nests clustered together in the branches of tall trees along the river. "Oh, they have a whole community up there. We had nothing like this in Boston."

  "I don't know what Nattie finds so fascinating about the East." Amy gave a dismissive shrug. "If there are no birds, no rivers, and since you can't ride, apparently no horses, I wouldn't want to live there."

  "Of course we have birds and rivers and horses. It's just..."

  "Yes?"

  Rika looked away. "Oh, nothing." She didn't want to admit that she'd never had the time to study trees and birds or to learn how to ride. Amy wouldn't understand. Rika tried to picture Amy in Boston, tending looms, but the image of Amy in the weave room, surrounded by clattering machines, just wouldn't come. Amy belonged out here, riding in her improper pants.

  "Come on," Amy said. "If the earth is as saturated in the east pasture as it is here, we've got to get the herd into a more hilly area before they ruin the spring grass. We'll talk about you lying to me later."

  A lump formed in Rika's throat, and she gripped the reins tighter. Maybe if she proved she was a quick learner and helped with the herd, Amy would forgive her lie.

  When Amy directed her horse away from the river, Rika squeezed her legs and grinned when Cinnamon fell into step behind Ruby. Oh, if Jo could see me. I'm riding a horse, all on my own!

  Cinnamon plodded up a hill, and this time, Rika didn't need to grab the saddle horn to keep her balance.

  Amy's horse snorted and pawed the ground once, obviously wanting to run, but Amy easily held her back. They continued in a steady walk.

  Thudding sounds came from somewhere in front of them. Cinnamon's ears twitched toward the sounds, and after a few seconds of listening, Rika figured out what they were. Hoofbeats! Did we find the herd?

  But instead of a herd, a single horse thundered toward them.

  Not one of the Hamiltons' Appaloosas, though. The horse's sand-colored coat had no dark dots and no white blotches.

  When he saw them, he veer
ed to the right and fled at a gallop, his dark mane trailing in the wind.

  "Dammit," Amy said, making Rika blink at her language. "It's a mustang stallion. If I don't catch him, he'll steal our mares." A sharp glance from her green eyes hit Rika. "You stay here and don't move a muscle until I get back. And get off the horse."

  Before Rika could answer, Amy urged her mare forward, already reaching for the rope tied to her saddle. Mud spattered as Ruby broke into a run.

  Cinnamon moved to follow.

  "Whoa!" Rika pulled back on the reins. Sweat broke out all over her body and her muscles tensed as pictures of hanging on to a running, out-of-control horse flashed through her mind. But thankfully, Amy was right about Cinnamon's training. He gave a neigh of protest or maybe a good-bye to his friend but stopped walking.

  Rika's heart hammered, measuring the time while they waited.

  After a while, Cinnamon lowered his head and ripped at tufts of lush grass.

  Is he supposed to do that? Can horses eat around that bit in their mouth? She didn't want him to hurt himself, so she tugged at the reins.

  Obediently, Cinnamon brought his head up, and she patted his neck. Should she dismount, as Amy had said? Once she got down, she wouldn't be able to climb into the saddle without Amy's help.

  Cinnamon's ears flicked forward.

  Hoofbeats thudded toward them.

  Amy? Rika gazed at the approaching horse.

  Instead of Ruby, the sand-colored mustang raced toward them. If the tiny dot in the distance was Amy, the stallion would escape. He'll steal the mares.

  The stallion's eyes flashed. His hooves thundered over the ground.

  Cinnamon pranced beneath her.

  Fear leaped up in Rika, but then she repeated what Amy had told her. "Horses look big and tough, but they scare easily." Maybe if she scared the stallion a little, if she shooed him toward Amy, they could still catch him.

  Her legs trembled as she pressed them against Cinnamon's sides and squeezed.

  Cinnamon hopped forward.

  Rika slid back in the saddle and grabbed the saddle horn.

  The stallion veered away from them but didn't stop. He was already too close. His hooves slashed through the air.

  A squeal drowned out the thumping of hooves.

  Cinnamon exploded under her, rearing in panic.

  Her hands lost their desperate grip on the saddle horn, and Rika fell.

  * * *

  Amy rejoiced when fast hoofbeats approached. Had the stallion swerved when he came to the river with its high water level, just as she hoped? She slowed Ruby and shook out a loop. One quick flick of her wrist and the rope would settle around the mustang's neck.

  But instead of the stallion, Cinnamon raced toward her, his saddle empty and the reins flapping behind him. He thundered past her. Something had scared him badly.

  "Hendrika!" Amy's heart leaped. She urged Ruby from a brisk lope into an all-out gallop. Hoofbeats pounded in Amy's ears, or maybe it was her own heartbeat. They raced toward the small hill where they had left Hendrika.

  There!

  Relief shot through her at the sight of Hendrika walking toward them. Ruby slid to a stop next to her, and Amy flew out of the saddle. She gripped Hendrika's shoulders. Her gaze darted up and down her body. "Are you all right?"

  Hendrika nodded, her eyes wide. Mud covered her skirt and bodice, and she had lost her bonnet, but otherwise, she seemed unharmed.

  Amy let go of her. "What happened?"

  "The stallion was running right toward us, and I thought I could block his way, but he reared and then Cinnamon reared too."

  "Block his way?" Amy wanted to grab Hendrika and shake her. How could Hendrika think that Cin would march toward a wild stallion that came charging right at him? "I told you to stay and not move a muscle!"

  Hendrika wrapped her arms around herself. "But he was getting away."

  "The river would have stopped him. But now he did get away and Cinnamon too, thank you very much."

  Mud-spattered arms tightened around Hendrika's upper body. Her shoulders hunched.

  "Are you hurt?" Amy asked.

  Hendrika shook her head. "Just sore."

  Long years of practice helped Amy shed her anger and her fear, and by the time she reached for Ruby's reins, she had calmed down. Papa had taught her at a young age that an angry person had no business getting on a horse. She could deal with her emotions and with Hendrika later.

  Part of her wanted to leave Hendrika behind while she rode and searched for Cinnamon, but she didn't want to risk something else happening while Hendrika waited here, alone.

  She mounted and directed Ruby downhill so that she was below Hendrika. "Come on. We need to get help to catch Cinnamon and the stallion." At the thought of slinking back, having to ask Adam and the other men for help, anger sparked again, but Amy forced it down. She reached out her hand and pulled her left foot out of the stirrup, making room for Hendrika to put her foot there. "Climb up behind me."

  Still trembling like a scared filly, Hendrika gripped Amy's hand and let herself be pulled onto the horse behind Amy. When Ruby started to move, Hendrika's hands slipped around Amy's hips.

  Amy's stomach fluttered. Heat suffused her cheeks, and she was glad Hendrika was behind her and couldn't see her face.

  Stop this madness. You've got enough trouble as it is.

  * * *

  When Amy pulled Ruby to a stop in the ranch yard, Adam and Hank were just packing up their tools next to the repaired corral gate.

  Hank hurried over and helped Hendrika down. "What happened?"

  "Where's Toby?" Amy asked instead of answering. She didn't dismount, knowing she'd have to head out again in a moment.

  "He went to check on the yearlings, like you told him," Hank said.

  Damn. Now she had no choice but to ask Adam for help. "I need you two to ride out with your lariats. There's a wild stallion down by the Molalla River, and he's heading toward the east pasture. I want him caught before he can steal any of our mares. And keep an eye out for Cinnamon." Very likely, the gelding had calmed down by now and was already on his way back home, but she still worried. She hoped she would find him when she moved the herd from the east pasture.

  "Oh, now you're finally sending men to do a man's work." Adam lifted his lip in a sneer.

  The anger Amy had held in check since the stallion had gotten away bubbled to the surface. Adam would never dare talk like this to Papa or to Phin.

  Ruby shifted beneath her, feeling Amy's tension, and Amy forced herself to calm down. "I'm sending you because I still need to move the herd and I can't get the herd, search for Cinnamon, and catch the stallion all at once."

  "Please, help her," Hendrika said, her eyes still wide. "It's all my fault. Please, I don't want Cinnamon to get hurt or the stallion to steal your mares just because of me."

  Her gentle pleas did what Amy's order hadn't accomplished. Adam headed to the paddock to catch his horse. It rankled Amy that Hendrika had resorted to a doe-eyed look while she was trying to get the men to accept orders from a woman. She ignored the accidental brush of Hendrika's shoulder against her leg and turned to Hank. "Don't let that stallion get away."

  When Papa got home, she wanted him to find the ranch thriving, not half of their mares gone.

  Hank tipped his hat. "We won't."

  Amy pulled Ruby around and loped toward the east pasture.

  Hamilton Horse Ranch

  Baker Prairie, Oregon

  April 22, 1868

  WHEN RIKA CLOSED the door behind her, Nattie looked up from a bowl of peas.

  "Hendrika!" Nattie hurried over. "What happened?"

  Rika glanced down at herself. Her bodice was drenched with water and mud. Grass stains covered her skirt. Every muscle in her body hurt, especially those in her thighs, her back, and her backside. She let Nattie lead her toward the warming fire and plucked a blade of grass from her skirt. "I wanted to help, but I fell off the horse and the stallion got away." />
  "Amy let you ride a stallion?" Nattie looked ready to murder her sister.

  "Oh, no. I was riding Cinnamon, and I tried to stop a wild stallion from escaping. I thought if I could just scare him a little and shoo him toward Amy... I didn't think that Cinnamon would be the one getting scared. He always seemed so calm."

  Nattie licked her lips as if she didn't know what to say. "You don't have any experience with horses whatsoever, do you?"