by Jae
Amy's gaze dropped to the saddle horn.
When Rika landed in the saddle behind her, Amy urged Cinnamon into a fast walk.
The sudden forward motion made Rika grab Amy's hips to avoid getting tossed off. She felt Amy flinch and let go. "Are you hurt?" she asked. Her own body was probably covered with scratches and bruises from her encounter with the tree.
"No." Amy's voice rumbled through her. "It's just... Your gloves are wet, and your hands are freezing."
"Oh." Rika curled her fingers into fists. "No wonder." She laughed shakily. "My whole body feels frozen."
Cinnamon trudged up a hill.
Rika slid back. "Amy!"
Amy sighed. "Hold on to me."
Rika threw one arm around Amy, stopping her backward slide. She tugged off one glove, then the other with her teeth before she slid her now gloveless hands around Amy. "Better?"
A shaky breath vibrated through the body under her hands. "Um. Yes."
Amy's jacket was dripping, and her shirt was as wet as Rika's dress, but heat still emanated from her. Rika's hands, pressed to Amy's sides, instantly felt warmer than the rest of her body. She resisted the urge to snuggle closer to share Amy's comforting warmth. "Aren't you cold?"
A snort of laughter escaped Amy, and she chuckled about something Rika didn't understand. Or maybe the laughter was Amy's way of coping with the danger they had narrowly escaped. "No," Amy said. "Not particularly."
Exhaustion settled over Rika. When her grip loosened and her arms slid down, she felt Amy's hand on her forearm, holding her in place.
Rika forced herself to sit straighter in the saddle. She couldn't afford to fall asleep right now, no matter how tired she was. Her gaze slid over muddy fields; then she turned to look back at the river.
"Amy!" She clutched Amy's sides. "Look. The mare and the foal are following us." She had worried about leaving them behind but thought the foal was too exhausted to make the trip back to the ranch.
"I know. Horses are herd animals. They don't want to be left behind."
"Will the foal be all right?" She watched as he broke into a stiff-legged gallop to keep up with Cinnamon and his mother.
"He'll be fine." Amy's still gloved hand stroked hers for a moment, then retreated. "Thanks to you."
Amy's praise, her gratefulness, warmed Rika's cold body from the inside out.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Cinnamon stopped in the ranch yard.
A buckboard with two horses stood tied to the porch rail.
When Rika slid out of the saddle, the door to the main house opened and Nattie stepped outside, followed by Hannah. "Hey, Amy, look who's here to —" Nattie pressed a hand to her mouth when she took in their sodden clothes and the mud-crusted horses. "What happened?"
"Later." Amy pushed past her. "Rika needs to get into some dry clothes first, and I need to go out and find Ruby."
The thought of Amy crossing the river to find Ruby made Rika's heart pound. She hurried after Amy and grabbed her arm. "Send one of the ranch hands."
Amy shook her head. "This is my responsibility."
Anger heated Rika's skin. "Being responsible is one thing, but this is just dumb. You can't even swim!" The words were out before she remembered that Amy was running the ranch and she was just a guest. But she refused to take them back. She remembered too well how scared she had been when Amy had tumbled into the raging river.
"You still can't swim?" Hannah asked.
Amy shrugged and freed herself from Rika's grip. "Mama can't swim, and Papa doesn't like to either, so no one ever taught us."
"Then she's right," Hannah said. "Send one of your men."
Not waiting for a decision, Nattie gathered up her skirts. "I'll get Toby. And I'll take care of the horses."
Amy's jaw bunched, but she didn't stop her when she led away Cinnamon and the mare. The foal followed them to the stable.
"Come on, you two," Hannah said. "Let's get you into some dry clothes."
Rika pointed at the cabin. "I'll go and change into one of my own skirts."
"Good idea." Amy smiled for the first time since she had seen the foal on the small island. "Because that," she pointed at the dress Rika was wearing, "is my last clean dress."
* * *
"You rode into the river, even though you can't swim?" Hannah said after Amy finished her tale. She had followed Amy into her room, too impatient to hear what had happened to wait until Amy finished changing.
With Hannah's back to her, Amy struggled out of her sodden pants. "What was I supposed to do? Watch the foal drown?" Her shirt followed the pants, and she ran a washrag over the mud spatters on her skin. When Hannah turned to answer, Amy felt her friend's gaze on her body, but this time, it didn't send shivers across her skin. Her heart continued with its steady beat. It no longer sped up at the thought of Hannah looking at her half-dressed body.
Maybe I'm finally getting over this... reaction, she thought. Oh, yeah? You almost jumped out of your skin when Rika put her hands on your hips to hold on. And you almost kissed her. Lord, what were you thinking?
She ducked her head and hunched her shoulders. Rika was a woman. And not just any woman but Phin's future wife. Amy's body didn't listen to that admonishment, though. The thought of Rika's closeness raised goose bumps all over her skin. Her back to Hannah, she trailed her index finger across her lips, which had almost touched Rika's, then shook her head to get rid of the confusing feelings.
"How did you get back to the bank after Ruby ran off?" Hannah asked.
"Rika rode after me." Amy's nails bit into her palms. The helplessness of those moments gripped her again. "She can barely ride and she had promised to stay out of the way if something unexpected happened, but she rode into the river just the same."
"What was she supposed to do? Watch you drown?" Hannah asked, repeating Amy's words about the foal.
Amy knew she never would have made it out of the river alive, much less rescued the foal, if not for Rika. But still, watching Rika struggle to stay in the saddle and then seeing her be pulled down by the river... Amy shivered.
A soft touch to her arm jerked her back to the present.
Amy flinched and turned, halfway expecting to see Rika stand in front of her. But, of course, it was Hannah, who looked at her with compassionate eyes.
"Lord, that must have been so hard. I bet it brought back some awful memories for you." She rubbed her hand along Amy's bare arm.
No butterflies, Amy noticed. She slipped on a dry shirt. "Memories?"
"Of the Wakarusa River," Hannah said.
"Wakarusa River?" The name sounded familiar, but there was no river with that name around here. Amy knew every stick and stone in the Willamette Valley.
Hannah's dark eyes probed her. "You don't remember? Your mother almost drowned because she couldn't swim. If your father hadn't jumped in after her..."
Images of a bobbing raft on a wild river drifted across Amy's inner eye. Her heart jumped. "I don't remember much about our journey to Oregon," she said. In fact, she barely remembered anything about her early childhood. Mama and Papa didn't talk about it, so she had no way of knowing which of the vague images and impressions had really happened and which were just products of her imagination. Some of her hazy memories didn't make sense at all, so she concluded that they weren't real.
"I was eleven, so you must have been three or four," Hannah said. "It was the river where you lost Rosie."
"Rosie," Amy repeated. A half-forgotten memory resurfaced. Her doll had fallen into the river, and they couldn't replace it on the Oregon Trail. Her gaze veered to the shelf with the carved horses. That's when Papa started making them for me.
"Yes." Hannah giggled and poked her in the side. "Once upon a time, Amy Hamilton played with dolls, just like any other girl. Don't worry. I won't tell your ranch hands."
Amy poked her back, and for a moment, their friendship was how it had been years ago, before her confusing feelings made Amy awkward around Hannah. Maybe
these... feelings for Rika will go away too.
The memory of full lips and warm breath mingling with hers flashed through Amy.
She sighed.
Not today.
Fort Boise, Idaho
May 20, 1868
"THERE IT IS!" Luke pointed at the wooden palisades. She had never been so glad to reach a fort — not because she felt threatened by Indians and the fort provided safety. Reaching Fort Boise meant she could turn around and go home.
The Hamilton horses streamed in through the gate, and Luke received instructions to herd them to an empty corral. When the last horse loped into the corral, the tension drained from Luke's shoulders.
"Where can I find Colonel Lundgren?" She wanted to receive her payment and be on her way. If Phin and Charlie agreed, they would restock their supplies and give the horses a few hours of rest and then head out.
"You need to talk to the quartermaster, Captain Kelling." Lieutenant Moylan pointed to a sandstone building. "He's in charge of buying horses."
Luke dismounted and waved at Phin to follow her, leaving Charlie with the horses. She knocked on the door and stepped into the quartermaster's office.
A tall man in uniform sat behind a desk and wrote numbers in a ledger.
"Captain Kelling?" Luke asked.
He looked up and nodded.
"Luke Hamilton. I'm bringing the horses Colonel Lundgren ordered."
The captain flipped a few pages in the ledger. "Ah, yes. A dozen Appaloosa geldings. Thirty dollars per head."
Thirty? Luke rubbed the back of her neck. "There must be a mistake. Colonel Lundgren and I exchanged letters, and we agreed on forty dollars for each of the geldings and sixty dollars for Midnight, his personal mount." She took the last letter from her pocket and slid it in front of Kelling.
Kelling didn't look at the piece of paper. "It says thirty dollars in my ledger."
"Then your ledger is wrong," Luke said, trying not to lose her patience. Over the years, Nora taught her to read and write, so she knew what price was recorded in the letter. "If you ask the colonel, I'm sure he'll clear up the misunderstanding."
Kelling squinted at the numbers in his book. "There is no misunderstanding, and I don't need to ask the colonel. Thirty dollars per head. Take it or leave it."
Phin exchanged a helpless glance with Luke.
"Then I'll leave it — and you get to explain to your superior why you couldn't procure the horses he needs." Three hundred and sixty dollars was still a lot of money, but Luke refused to accept less than what the horses were worth. Years of hard work went into breeding, raising, and training them. "Come on, Phin. Let's go."
She turned on her heel and strode to the door, hoping he would call her back. What would she do if he didn't? She couldn't return home empty-handed.
Her hand landed on the door handle.
"Wait," Kelling said. "Maybe we can compromise. What do you say to thirty-five per head?"
That bastard! Luke was sure the rest of the money would go into his own pocket and the colonel would never learn about it. "I'm saying no."
"Forty dollars is a lot of money for a horse," Kelling said.
"Not for one of mine. These aren't second-class, untrained colts. They were carefully selected and trained to be cavalry horses. Colonel Lundgren knows their worth, so I'll go and talk to him now." She swung open the door.
"Wait," Kelling said.
Luke turned around.
The captain's jaw muscles tightened. She could almost hear his teeth grind against each other. "Forty dollars is practically daylight robbery," he said. "But fine. If you somehow got the colonel to agree on it..."
"He agreed." Luke held up the colonel's letter but bit her tongue and forced herself not to say anything else. Making enemies wouldn't help her family or the ranch.
He slammed his ledger shut. "All right. I'll inspect the horses, and if they are as good as you say, I'll get you the money."
Luke gave a terse nod. She followed Kelling out the door and to the corral, where he looked at the horses' hooves, checked their teeth, and slid his hands over their backs.
He might be a son of a bitch, but at least he knows something about horses.
Kelling couldn't hide the gleam of appreciation in his eyes when he looked at the Hamilton horses. "All right," he finally said. "Forty dollars per head."
"Sixty for Midnight." Luke pointed at the black gelding.
A dark glare hit Luke, but she didn't look away.
"You'll have to sign for the money," Kelling said.
"Not a problem. I'm keeping my side of the agreement." She let the words hang between them as she followed him back to the quartermaster's office.
Captain Kelling walked to his desk and opened a drawer. A key unlocked a wooden box, and Kelling counted out twenty-five double eagles.
Bastard. Just the fact that he had five hundred dollars right there told her he knew about her arrangement with Colonel Lundgren. Sharp parting words lingered on her tongue, but she swallowed them. She had her money. Now she just wanted to get out of Fort Boise and back to her family.
She pocketed the money, nodded at Phin to follow her, and walked through the door. "Phin," she called before he crossed the parade ground to join Charlie.
Phin stopped and turned.
"Here." She handed him twelve of the golden coins. "It's safer if you hold on to half of the money until we're home." If something happened to one of them, her family would still have half of the money.
Instead of pocketing the coins, Phin stared at them. "That's a lot of money."
"And I have a lot of trust in you."
Their gazes met. Silent understanding passed between them, and then Phin nodded.
"All right." Luke clapped him on the back. "Let's go home."
* * *
"Dammit!" The rough curse drifted through the gray half-light of dusk.
Luke paused outside of the sutler's store.
Muffled groans and grunts came from a dark alley. Boots scraped over the packed ground.
"Hold her still!" a man hissed.
Clothing rustled.
Luke dropped the sack of provisions and hurried into the alley to see what was going on. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she stopped.
Two men knelt in the alley and forced the struggling limbs of a Shoshoni woman to the ground. A third man stood over her and fumbled with his pants.
Normally, Luke stayed away from fights that weren't her own, but she couldn't ignore this.
One of the kneeling men looked up. He jerked when he saw her. "Bill!"
The third man, his pants half-unbuttoned, turned and Luke recognized one of the soldiers who had wanted to drive away her horses and blame the Shoshoni. He studied her with cool eyes. "You can have a turn with her — after we're done."
Blood pounded through Luke's head, and she spat out her words. "Let her go."
"Don't get your feathers in a ruffle," the man said. "She's just an Injun."
"Let her go," Luke repeated. Her hand rested on the grip of her revolver.
The three men exchanged glances.
Luke tensed. She kept her gaze on Bill, the apparent leader.
"Back off." Bill straightened to his full height. "She's not worth fighting over."
"If she's not worth it, then just walk away," Luke said.
Bill's gaze flickered down, to Luke's weapon hand, then back up to her eyes.
The Shoshoni woman took advantage of their distraction. She freed one of her feet and kicked out. Her foot hit the back of Bill's knee.
Mud spattered when Bill crashed down.
One of the other men drew his revolver.
A flash from the revolver's muzzle lit up the alley, and a bullet whizzed past Luke. Chips of sandstone sliced her cheek.
Luke swung up her revolver.
Boom!
The man went down, screaming and clutching his thigh.
"Stop!" Luke yelled. She cocked the weapon but didn't fire. If she could he
lp it, she didn't want to shoot anyone else.
"Hey!" someone shouted behind Luke, but she kept her gaze and her revolver trained on Bill.
"What's going on?" Sergeant Johnson shouldered past Luke.
Relief trickled through Luke. "These three soldiers," she spat out the word because they didn't deserve the title, "tried to force themselves on a woman."
