by Jae
A simple nod was answer enough.
"All right." Amy slid her hands over Dotty's swollen belly, then moved to the stall door. "Thank you," she said when she passed Rika.
Amy's trust settled over Rika like a warm blanket. Her cheeks glowed. She entered the stall and looked at Amy over the stall door. "You're welcome."
* * *
Rika yawned and watched Dotty curl back her upper lip in something that looked like the equine equivalent of an answering yawn. "You tired too, girl? I'm not keeping you awake, am I?"
In the last two hours, nothing had indicated that the foal was about to come. Maybe it wouldn't be born tonight after all.
She watched Dotty chew on a mouthful of hay, then walk away. A minute later, the mare returned to the manger and got another bite before she moved away.
Was that what Amy meant with "restless," or was her unfamiliar presence making the mare nervous? If she ran to the main house and woke up Amy, just to discover that it was a false alarm, Amy would think Rika was no help at all.
Dotty crossed to the other end of the stall and settled her large body into the straw.
Is this it? Was the foal coming now, or had Dotty just settled down to sleep? Rika hesitated, one hand on the bolt that kept the stall door closed. She wasn't even sure if horses lay down to sleep. In the corral, she had seen horses doze while standing up.
After a few moments, Dotty rolled to her feet. Sweat gleamed on her dark coat. No sound of pain interrupted the silence, but by now Rika sensed that something was wrong.
The foal is coming!
She hurried out of the stall, stopping just long enough to close the door behind her.
Darkness greeted her in the main house. The screen door creaked as she closed it behind her, but inside, everything was silent.
Moonlight filtered in through the windows, and Rika didn't stop to search for matches to light a lamp. Holding on to the banister, she rushed up the stairs. She forced herself to slow down just enough not to wake the entire house. Her heart thumped against her ribcage. She tapped on Amy's door.
"Amy!" She knocked again, then opened the door.
Nothing moved in the near darkness of Amy's room. Amy had likely fallen into an exhausted sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
"Wake up, Amy!" Rika hurried across the room to shake Amy awake.
Her foot collided with an unexpected obstacle. She stumbled and pitched forward. "No!" Her hands reached out to break her fall.
"Uff." The air was squeezed out of her lungs when she landed much sooner than expected — and much softer than expected too.
The warm surface beneath her jerked and groaned. "What...?"
Stunned, Rika stared down into the gleaming white of Amy's eyes.
"Rika?" Amy mumbled, her voice rough with sleep. Her hands slid up Rika's back, as if to make sure she was really there.
Heat flowed through Rika at Amy's touch, freeing Rika of her frozen state. She rolled off the bed and its inhabitant. "Sorry. I think the foal is coming," she blurted out.
Amy jumped out of bed. Apparently, she had gone to bed fully dressed. Now she shoved her feet into the boots in front of the bed. Rika had stumbled across them earlier. "Hurry!" Amy grabbed Rika's elbow and dragged her along.
In the stable, Dotty had lain down again.
"Her water already broke." Amy pointed to the wet straw in the stall.
"What do we do?"
Amy took up position in front of the stall but didn't enter. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" All of this excitement and now Amy did nothing? Rika watched as the mare's neck arched, her legs stiffened, and Dotty let out a low grunt. She felt like a young father, forced to watch helplessly.
"Dotty has been through this before, and all her foals were born without a problem. We're just here in case something goes wrong. If there are complications, every second counts."
The thought sent a shiver through Rika, and she prayed that everything would go smoothly this time too.
Dotty got up, paced a few times, then went down again.
"Oh, no." Amy's brow furrowed.
"What? Is something wrong?"
"She's lying too close to the wall. There's no room for the foal to be born." Amy waited a few minutes, but when the mare didn't get up, Amy shoved back the bolt and opened the stall door.
Rika slipped into the stall behind her, plastering herself to Amy's side. "What do we do?"
"We've got to get her up," Amy said. "Help me. If I tell you to, push her from behind until she moves."
Dotty didn't look as if she wanted to move. Her legs tensed when another contraction started. Rika stared at the whitish bubble that appeared between the mare's hind legs. The contours of little hooves stretched the white sac; then one tiny leg broke through.
It slipped partway back when the contraction ebbed.
"Now!" Amy said. She pushed against Dotty's hip, causing the mare to lift her head to look at her.
With trembling hands, Rika pushed the horse from behind.
Dotty gave a snort of protest, then folded her legs beneath herself and got to her feet.
"Good girl." Amy's voice soothed both Rika and the mare. She weaved her fingers through Dotty's mane and urged her over, more to the middle of the stall.
Rika's knees wobbled when she detected that one little hoof was still sticking out of the mare when she lay down. For a moment, she was afraid that Dotty would crush the foal's leg, but the mare made it down safely.
The second hoof broke through the white sac. A gush of fluid dribbled into the straw, then a nose appeared.
Rika wanted to clap and shout, but she stood rooted to the spot.
With gentle hands, Amy pushed the membrane from the foal's head.
A white mark sat in the middle of the otherwise dark forehead. Rika had learned that horse breeders called it a "star."
Lord, I hope it's a lucky star for the little one.
Dotty groaned and grunted, trying to push out the foal's shoulders.
Rika realized her hands were clamped around Amy's arm, and she let go. "Sorry."
An understanding smile crossed Amy's face. While she acted calm, her eyes reflected the same tense excitement Rika felt. Amy might have witnessed many foals being born, but she still felt the magic of the moment.
The foal slipped out of the mare little by little. With one final grunt from Dotty, the hips and hind legs slid into the straw.
Amy brushed the white sac away from the foal and wiped it down with a handful of straw, revealing a dark coat and a white blanket on the hip. "It's a filly," she said with the biggest grin Rika had ever seen on her. Then she stepped back. Her arm brushed Rika's.
They stood in silence, watching as Dotty turned and snuffled her daughter's face. She nickered and then began to clean the foal's coat.
"Oh." Rika exhaled carefully, as if a loud breath would interrupt the bonding between mother and foal. "She's so beautiful."
Amy turned toward her. Their gazes touched and held. "She is," Amy said. "Very beautiful."
Something trembled deep inside of Rika, but she couldn't put a name to the unknown feeling. A part of her wanted to reach out and touch Amy, wanted to bond with her in the silent way the mare established contact with her foal.
Amy looked away, breaking their eye contact. "Papa will be so pleased. Black horses with such a nice, big blanket are rare. This little one will be an important part of our breeding program one day."
Sudden sadness gripped Rika. She wouldn't be there to see the foal grow up. Even if she could convince Phineas that she was his betrothed, they wouldn't stay at the ranch for much longer. In his letters to Jo, Phineas had mentioned that he wanted to establish his own ranch soon.
"Everything all right?" Amy asked.
Rika didn't look at her. She kept her gaze fixed on the foal. "Yeah. Everything just happened so fast."
"I told you mares don't take twenty hours giving birth."
"Yes." She hadn't meant just the f
oaling, though. Three months ago, her life had been so different that she couldn't have imagined her life in Oregon now. The routine of the noisy weave room and the bustling activity in the boarding house had formed the pattern of her days and left little room for anything else.
Now she was playing midwife to a mare with Amy Hamilton by her side. In a way, it felt completely unreal and absolutely right at the same time.
"Look," Amy whispered.
The filly struggled to get up, but her hind legs didn't support her body yet. Dotty nudged her foal with a gentle muzzle, encouraging her to try again.
Finally, the filly stood on wobbly legs. Dotty got up too, breaking the umbilical cord. The filly nuzzled her mother's flank, searching for her teat. Moments later, she started to suckle.
"Oh, dear Lord!" A voice interrupted the moment. When Rika turned, she saw Nattie stand in front of the stall. "What a beautiful foal. Look at that nice blanket. Good girl, Dotty."
"She did great," Amy said and yawned.
A cloak of exhaustion settled on Rika too.
"Why don't you two head off to bed?" Nattie said. "I don't think Nugget will foal tonight, so I'll keep an eye on Dotty and the little one for a while longer."
Hesitantly, Rika directed her gaze away from the suckling filly.
Amy opened the door, and they walked out into the ranch yard. The drizzle had stopped, and the moon and hundreds of stars were shining down on them.
Rika smiled. So it was a lucky star for the filly.
Not saying a word, they walked to the cabin. Rika put one hand on the door but then looked back at Amy. "Goodnight," she said.
"Goodnight."
She waited until Amy's steps faded away before she let the door fall closed behind her.
* * *
Despite her exhaustion, Rika was up before sunrise. She hurried through the chores she had taken over from Nora. In her eagerness to go to the stable and see the filly, she nearly dropped the eggs she collected from the henhouse.
"Slow down," she told herself. Now that Nora taught school on most days, the Hamiltons needed her help more than ever, and she didn't want to do a shabby job. She fed the hens and put the eggs in the springhouse to keep them cool and fresh.
Only then did she allow herself to wander to the stable.
She stumbled to a halt.
The spot in front of the stall door was already occupied.
When Rika walked down the center aisle, Amy turned. Her red locks were mussed, but her green eyes sparkled as if she hadn't been up half of the night.
Their gazes met, and they smiled at each other like two proud parents.
"How is the filly?" Rika asked.
Amy turned around to face the stall. "Hungry, it seems." She chuckled.
Rika stepped next to her.
The black filly had her head bent beneath her mother's belly and was suckling. Dotty stood patiently.
"I could watch all day," Rika said.
"Me too, but I don't think the ranch hands would like it. We need to check on the colts today."
Steps announced the arrival of more visitors come to admire the foal.
Nora and Nattie joined them and peeked over the stall door.
"Oh, what a beauty," Nora said. "Luke will hate to have missed this year's foals being born, especially this one. Is it a colt?"
Amy shook her head. "A filly."
"Then I hope you found a good name for her," Nora said. She glanced at Rika. "It's an old family tradition. Nattie gets to name all the colts and Amy the fillies."
"Poor little filly," Nattie said to the foal. "Now you'll get teased by the rest of the herd for having an odd name."
A nudge from Nora silenced her. "So?" She looked at Amy. "Have you picked a name?"
"I thought I'd let Hendrika pick the filly's name," Amy said. Her gaze wandered to Rika, then veered away.
Rika's breath caught.
In the sudden silence, Dotty's soft nickers sounded unusually loud.
"Me?" Rika pressed both hands to her chest. "Name the filly? Oh, no, I can't."
"Sure you can. Can't be any worse than the name my sister would pick," Nattie said.
Nora said nothing. Her silence made the importance of Amy's generous offer even clearer.
Rika looked at the filly, studied the graceful arc of her neck and the perfect dots on her white hindquarters. No name came to mind. "I can't think of a name beautiful enough for her."
"Don't think," Amy said. "Just feel and the right name will come to you."
Rika closed her eyes, then looked at the filly and her mother again. Just feel. She tried to remember what she had felt when she had first seen the filly last night. "Lucky," she whispered. "Lucky Star."
"Lucky Star," Nora repeated. Her gaze probed deeply into Rika. "Is that how the filly makes you feel?"
It was. Despite Jo's death, maybe it had indeed been a lucky star that led her to Oregon and to this place, where she got to witness the birth of a foal. "Well, with the big star on her forehead and Amy there to watch over her when she was born, Lucky Star just seems to fit."
"It does," Amy said.
Nattie clapped her hands, making Dotty nudge her foal away from them. "Oh, finally — a filly with a meaningful name."
"Come on, girls." Nora ushered them away from the stall. "Let's get breakfast on the table."
Willow Creek, Oregon
May 10, 1868
LUKE HERDED THE last horse through the creek. "Let's make camp here and —"
The sound of hoofbeats interrupted Luke. She reached for her rifle. A silent signal brought Charlie and Phin to her side, and they waited, riffles raised, for whoever was approaching.
The first horse appeared on top of the hill.
Luke let go of her rifle. The rider's blue uniform was familiar. She had worn the same uniform many years ago.
Behind the first rider, a dozen more soldiers reined in their horses.
Two of them urged their horses down the hill while the others stayed back. A quick glance at the insignia on their uniforms showed that the young lieutenant was in charge. "Good day," he said. "Lieutenant Moylan with the Eighth Cavalry."
Luke tipped her hat. "Luke Hamilton from the Willamette Valley," she said "We're bringing a herd of horses to Fort Boise. What brings you to Willow Creek? You haven't been sent out to escort us, have you?"
"Afraid not," the young officer answered. "We're searching for a band of Indians who have stolen stock and killed one of our men. Have you had any trouble with Indians?"
Dancer shifted beneath Luke, sensing her tension.
"No," Luke said as calmly as possible. "As you can see, all of our horses are accounted for."
"So you haven't seen any signs of Indians in the mountains?" the lieutenant asked.
Next to Luke, Charlie cleared his throat, but he said nothing.
"None," Luke answered. "Maybe your thieves joined the bands at the Owyhee River. The mountains aren't very hospitable this time of year."
Lieutenant Moylan nodded, but the bearded sergeant next to him still stared at Luke. Had he guessed that Luke was lying? Only long years of practice kept Luke's mask of casual indifference in place.
"Don't I know you from somewhere?" the sergeant asked.
Every muscle in Luke's body stiffened. Nora and she had feared that question for years. She stared at the man, trying to see more of his features beneath his thick beard. He looked familiar.
"Hamilton..." The sergeant squinted at her. "You aren't the Luke Hamilton who fought in Mexico, are you?"
The tension fled from Luke's frame. Only one man from her days as a dragoon had known her true gender, and he was long dead. She pictured the sergeant's face twenty years younger. A name finally came to her. "Pete Johnson?"
The sergeant beamed. "Yes. Lieutenant, this man saved my hide more than once in the Mexican War." He looked at his superior. "Maybe we could return the favor and accompany him and his men safely to Fort Boise. The Injun thieves are long gone anyway
."
Lieutenant Moylan hesitated but then nodded. "All right. At least our mission won't be a total failure. I know the colonel is waiting for these horses."
Oh, wonderful. That's what I get for being a war hero. Now instead of just two men, twelve soldiers were watching her every move. Finding a quiet place behind a bush to relieve herself was going to be a challenge.
