by Jae
Reluctantly, Hank loosened the rope. "But didn't you smell it?" He gestured toward the barn. "Kerosene."
The biting smell of kerosene had stung Amy's nose as soon as she had entered the burning stable. While barn fires could spread quickly, this one had gotten out of control too fast not to be caused by arson. "I smelled it. But we can't afford jumping to conclusions. We need to think this through. Let him go," she said again, emphasizing every word.
Hank wrenched the rope off John, who lay in the mud, gasping for breath and staring at them.
When Amy helped him up, a fresh wave of pain shot through her hands. "Come on. We have to catch the horses, especially Dotty and Nugget."
A few more tense moments ticked by. Hank and John stared daggers at each other, but finally they hurried away to follow Amy's orders.
* * *
"I'm fine, really," Nora said as they entered the main house.
Rika kicked the door closed behind her with her heel. "Let me be the judge of that." The amount of weight Nora put on her let Rika know she wasn't fine at all. Nora was as tall as she was, so they struggled to make it to the side table to light a lamp. "Bedroom?" Rika asked.
The arm around her shoulder tensed for a moment, then Nora nodded. "All right."
They struggled up the stairs. Nora opened the last door at the end of the hall.
The scent of bay rum and leather hit Rika's nose before Nora lit another lamp. Mr. Hamilton was as present here as in the rest of the house, and Rika wondered if Nora had applied bay rum to one of her pillows because she missed her husband. Did Mama ever do that when Father wasn't there? She couldn't see her doing that.
Nora sank into the pillows with a groan. "Oh, finally the room has stopped spinning."
Rika removed Nora's bonnet and probed along her skull. "Do you feel nauseated?"
"No, I — ouch!" Nora flinched. "I'm just a bit rattled."
Rika parted the red locks that still held no trace of gray. Would Amy's hair feel this soft too? The unexpected thought startled her. What was she doing, thinking about Amy's hair when she was supposed to take care of Nora? She forced her thoughts back to the task at hand. "You got a big bump right here, but the skin isn't broken."
"Good." Nora pushed up on her hands to get out of bed.
"Oh, no." Rika pressed her down. "You need some rest."
"I'll rest later. The whole ranch is in an uproar and —"
"And just imagine how much bigger the chaos would get if Amy had to worry about the horses, the barn, and you all at the same time. Don't do this to her," Rika said. If Nora was the kind of woman Rika thought she was, only an appeal to her motherly side would stop her from getting up.
Nora sank against her pillow. "You fight dirty." A smile trembled on her lips. "And speaking of dirty, you should change out of that skirt. Go to Amy's room and take one of hers."
Heat rushed through Rika's soot-stained cheeks. "If I keep going at this pace, Amy will run out of dresses."
The faint lines around Nora's eyes crinkled as she smiled. "Oh, Amy would be grateful if that happened. Then she could finally start wearing her beloved pants to town."
"I'm starting to see the advantages," Rika said. By now, seeing Amy wear a skirt seemed more unnatural than seeing her in pants. "At least pants would have been less likely to catch fire." She directed a regretful glance at the hem of her skirt.
"Catch fire?" Nora jerked upright, then groaned and grabbed her head with both hands. Her face blanched. "You went into the burning barn?"
Rika could hardly believe it herself. "We had to get the horses out."
Nora squeezed her eyes shut as if she wanted to avoid the mental image. When she opened her eyes again, they held warm regard. "You are a courageous young woman, Hendrika Bruggeman. Thank you."
The last name made Rika flinch. She didn't feel courageous at all. I don't even have the courage to tell these people who I really am. "I'll sit with you for a while," she said, "and then go change into another skirt."
* * *
The drenched sleeves of Amy's dress clung to her. Her arms felt heavy, and her heartbeat pounded in her burned palms. "This one should do it." She handed John the last bucket.
John passed it on to Hank. The bucket went from Hank to Emmett and finally to Toby, who in turn used the water to soak the grass next to the barn. The stable was still smoldering, but at least this way, the fire wouldn't reach any of the other buildings or ruin too much grass.
"Amy," Toby called. "Did you see this?"
Cursing her sodden skirt, Amy walked to where Toby was pointing. In the light of breaking dawn, she saw footprints leading from the hills to the ruins of their barn. Next to the indentations left by the boots, a brownish substance had been baked by the heat of the fire. Amy bent down and rubbed a bit of it between her burned fingers.
"Chewing tobacco." She hurled it away.
Only one man in the area was chewing and spitting wherever he went.
"That goddamned bastard!" Hank slapped his fist into his open palm. Then he ducked his head. "Sorry, Amy."
"Don't be sorry for cursing." Growing up around ranch hands, she had heard worse. "Be sorry for almost lynching John. You owe him an apology." She held Hank's gaze until he looked away. "Now would be a good time for that."
Hank's teeth ground together. He had his pride, and apologizing to someone he considered an Indian in front of his friends and colleagues... Amy knew it was a lot to ask. But if she wanted to have a good crew, they needed to establish mutual trust and respect. And the men needed to learn that her orders were not suggestions they could take or leave.
"I'm waiting, Hank," she said.
"Sorry," Hank mumbled.
Amy kept staring at him. He had almost killed John. A halfhearted sorry wouldn't do.
Hank turned away from Amy and finally looked John in the eye. "I'm sorry," he said more loudly.
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."
