Hidden Trusts

by Jae

  She looked around. The woman had disappeared in the chaos.

  Maybe that's a good thing. Luke hoped she would be safe from the soldiers in the future.

  "Walters!" Sergeant Johnson shouted. "Goddamnit, button your pants!"

  The man named Bill flinched and did up his buttons. "We didn't do anything, Sergeant."

  "Yeah," his friend said. "No woman here, see?"

  The third man groaned and pressed his hands on his thigh to stop the bleeding.

  "I'll take Mister Hamilton's word over yours every day of the week, Walters," Sergeant Johnson said. "But I'll let our superiors decide what to do with your useless asses." He waved at two of his men to drag away the injured man. "Come on. I bet Captain Kelling will be happy to throw you in the brig."

  Luke groaned. Oh, wonderful. Of all the men in the fort, it had to be Captain Kelling who would decide on a punishment for the three would-be rapists. If he heard that Luke was involved, he might decide that there had never been a woman in that alley. She gritted her teeth and prepared for another battle.

  Traveling home would have to wait for a while.

  Hamilton Horse Ranch

  Baker Prairie, Oregon

  May 21, 1868

  SUNLIGHT DANCED over the Molalla River as it meandered through the valley, a murmuring rivulet instead of a raging torrent.

  Amy stopped to allow Ruby a mouthful of water. She uncorked her canteen and took a swig. Cool water trickled down her parched throat. She had been in the saddle since sunup — her routine for the past few days.

  Since you were stupid enough to almost kiss Rika.

  As much as she tried not to think about it, the thought intruded again and again.

  She told herself she wasn't really avoiding Rika. Dozens of tasks kept her out on the range: checking springs and waterholes to make sure they weren't clogged with debris after the flood, riding line to keep the horses from drifting off the Hamilton land, and seeing how far along the hay was.

  Yeah, sure. Truth be told, the main ranch would have kept her busy too. The shed could do with a new coat of paint, and Phin's cabin needed to have a wood floor installed, but she decided to leave that to the boys.

  Thinking about Phin's cabin brought back images of Rika. With a grunt, Amy lifted the reins and directed Ruby away from the river.

  She rode along the gurgling stream bordering the eastern corner of their land. Something rustled in the hazel bushes ahead, and a squirrel skittered across the path.

  Ruby tossed up her head and pranced sideways.

  "None of that, girl." She stroked Ruby's neck, then pulled the mare's head around and urged her up a hill.

  One of their line shacks lay below. The small cabin held enough supplies to feed a ranch hand for a few days so he didn't have to return to the main house. Since she was there, she might as well check and see how much flour and coffee beans were still at the shack.

  Dusk settled over the hills. Maybe she would stay at the line shack overnight. She had done it before, so Mama wouldn't worry as long as she came home before breakfast.

  She urged Ruby into a gallop, glad to have something to do other than think about Rika. When she neared the cabin, she slowed to a lope, then a walk.

  The cabin's corral lay empty, and the grass grew high.

  Still, the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

  Ruby's ears flicked forward.

  "Someone here, girl?" Maybe a traveling man or a wrangler in search of a job. Amy didn't mind. They were welcome to a few of the supplies, as long as they left a coin to pay for what they had taken.

  She rode up to the cabin, a greeting on her lips, but something held her back from calling out. This time of year, it was better to be careful and watch out for strangers who were handy with a lariat and a running iron. Around here, even rustlers knew the worth of a Hamilton horse.

  A quick glance showed her that the pile of stacked-up wood in front of the cabin had gotten smaller. Someone is here. Someone without a horse or Ruby would whinny a greeting.

  One name shot through her mind: Adam!

  Any other traveler would have a horse.

  Don't be silly. She shook her head. Adam was long gone. This was probably just a down-on-his-luck wrangler who lost his horse.

  She slid her hand down to the revolver at her side. Since the fire, she never rode out without Papa's spare revolver.

  Before she could reach her weapon, the click of a hammer echoed through the silence.

  Fear stabbed her chest, robbing her of breath. Steady. She slid her gaze to the source of the sound and tensed her muscles against the impact of a bullet.

  Nothing happened.

  Not yet.

  "I told you you'd regret firing me," someone said from behind her.

  Adam. She pressed her teeth together until her jaw muscles hurt. "I didn't fire you," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "You gave your notice because you didn't want to work for me. So let's just go our separate ways without any bad feelings." This wasn't the moment to talk about the barn he'd set afire or his attack on Mama.

  He didn't answer. Instead, Amy heard his footsteps circle around until he was facing her. Long stubble covered his cheeks, and the fire in his eyes made him appear even wilder and more dangerous.

  Amy flicked her gaze to his weapon. If I charge him, maybe I can kick away his revolver.

  He waved two fingers toward his chest. "Oh, yeah, come on. Try it." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Don't think I wouldn't shoot a woman. If you wear pants like a man and act like a man, I'll shoot you like a man."

  Amy hesitated. He would shoot. But if he didn't kill her now, what would he do to her? What was he planning?

  "Get off the horse."

  She didn't move, knowing that she would be at his mercy once she was on the ground.

  "Get off the damn horse, or I'll shoot her!" His revolver swung down, now aiming at Ruby.

  "All right, all right. I'll get down. Don't hurt her." Amy wrapped the reins around the saddle horn and swung her leg over the cantle. If she dropped down, Ruby would be between Adam and her, blocking his view. If she could draw her revolver...

  "No." Adam's voice stopped her. "Not on that side. Climb off on my side." The muzzle of the revolver swung back up and pointed at the middle of her chest.

  Grinding her teeth, Amy dismounted on Ruby's right side. She gave Ruby a clap on her rump and sent her away. If Adam shot at her, at least Ruby wouldn't be hit.

  Ruby trotted to the corral but then stopped and looked back at Amy.

  Home, Amy tried to tell her mentally. Go home and get help. But she knew she was Ruby's herd at the moment. Ruby wouldn't leave unless something scared her off.

  "Hands up. Come over here," Adam said.

  She had no choice. Her thoughts raced as she stepped toward Adam, but with his revolver pointing at her, she couldn't do anything.

  His weapon still aimed at her, Adam used his free hand to reach beneath her jacket. His fingers slid over her body, making her shiver with revulsion. "Get your hands off me!"

  "Oh, come on. You're enjoying this." His grin widened. Then his searching hand found the revolver she carried against her hip. "That's what I thought." He took the weapon. "Did no one ever tell you little girls shouldn't play with revolvers?" He tossed it away and prepared to step back.

  No! If she wanted to survive, she needed a weapon. She needed to stay close to him to fight for the revolver. If he stepped out of reach, he could shoot her from a safe distance.

  She lurched forward and hammered both fists at the spot where his neck met the shoulder of his weapon arm.

  Her well-placed blow hit Adam before he could react. It worked, just as Papa had taught her. The revolver dropped from his hand.

  With a cry, Amy dived for it.

  The tip of Adam's boot caught her in the ribs.

  Pain lanced through her, and Amy fell back. Despite the throbbing pain, she groped for the revolver.

  "Oh, no, you don'
t!" Adam snatched her collar and dragged her to her knees.

  Amy struggled, but his grip was too strong. She couldn't break free.

  "Thought you could best me, huh?" Adam sneered and bent down.

  Had he found the revolver?

  As his weight shifted forward, his grip on her collar loosened.

  Amy rammed her head into his stomach.

  They fell and rolled. Amy stabbed her hand forward, trying to shove her fingers into his eyes.

  Adam jerked his head to the side at the last moment.

  Her hand hit his cheekbone.

  He grunted. With his greater strength, he rolled them around again.

  Agony shot through Amy when his weight pressed down on her. His tobacco breath hit her face. She tried to hit his eyes, his ears, his throat, but Adam's big hands clamped around her wrists, shackling them to the ground.

  No, no! Let go. Get off me! Under the weight of his body, Amy struggled to suck air into her lungs. She thrust upward with her knee, driving between his legs, as Papa had taught her.

  Adam's eyes widened. His body stiffened against hers. An unhealthy flush shot up his neck. His mouth fell open, and he howled.

  Yes! Her hands were free. Amy shoved at his chest and crawled out beneath him. Her heart slammed against her ribcage.

  The revolver!

  She had to get her hands on a weapon before Adam recovered.

  Her gaze darted left and right. All around them, the grass was trampled, but no metal glinted anywhere.

  Amy scrambled to her feet.

  Adam grabbed her ankle. With one sharp tug, Amy crashed to the ground. She spat out earth and clawed the grass. Facedown, she flailed her hands, searching for the revolver, a stick, a stone, any weapon at all.

  Cold steel pressed against the side of her head.

  Amy froze. Somehow, Adam had found one of the revolvers.

  Her arms dropped to the ground. She sucked in a breath. Pain flared through her ribs. "Adam," she said through a constricted throat. "Don't be stupid. If you kill me, my father will string you from the tallest tree in Oregon. And that's if Mama doesn't get you in front of her rifle first."

  They both knew it was true. No one, not even the law, would stop her parents if Adam hurt her.

  Adam grasped her shoulder and pulled her around. He leaned over her, his face crimson and his eyes wild. "Yeah, but I bet Mama's pretty little head is still hurting good. And dear Papa isn't here now, is he?" Adam chuckled. The pressure at her temple increased, and Adam's hate-filled eyes stared at her from just inches away.

  "No," an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere behind Adam. "But I am. And so is my Spencer carbine."

  Oh, thank God! Amy trembled, this time with relief, not fear.

  Adam jerked his head toward the voice, still pinning Amy so she couldn't see her savior.

  The voice was female. A hysterical chuckle bubbled up Amy's throat, and she clutched her ribs. Adam being defeated by a woman again. It was almost as good as knowing she would survive.

  "Drop the revolver," the woman said.

  When Adam hesitated, another voice came from beside the first one. "Drop the weapon and step back, or you will be too dead to be sorry." The voice was softer than the first one, but equally determined. The hammer of another weapon clicked.

  Adam withdrew the revolver from Amy's temple and, cursing, hurled it away. Moments later, tanned hands dragged him off Amy.

  "Careful," Amy said. "My revolver has to be somewhere around here."

  "I got it," the first voice said. While his companion kept her weapon trained on Adam, the man bent and picked up Amy's revolver.

  Man? Amy blinked. The voice made her think the person with the Spencer carbine was a woman, but the hat, the pants, and the short hair told her she was wrong.

  His female companion hurried over and helped tie up Adam.

  When Amy tried to get up, the woman pressed her down. "Stay down until you catch your breath, Amy."

  Amy squinted at the stranger. "How do you know my name?" There was something familiar about the woman, about the way the sunlight reflected off her golden-silvery hair, about the curve of her lips when she smiled. Had they met before?

  "Because you look like your mother." The stranger grinned. "And you fight like your father."

  * * *

  Tess blinked at the young woman. With her green eyes, flaming red hair, and freckles sprinkled over a creamy-golden complexion, the young woman staring up at her looked almost exactly like Nora.

  Or at least like Nora did when she first came to work for me in the brothel.

  Then Tess took the time to study her more closely. Denim pants and mud-spattered chaps covered muscular legs, and Tess caught glimpses of a sturdy body beneath a canvas jacket and a men's shirt. A piece of leather could barely restrain a mass of wind-tangled hair. During the struggle, a few tendrils had escaped and now fell into her face.

  "How do you know my parents?" Instead of the wary caution Tess was used to from Nora, her daughter's face showed dazed curiosity.

  What had Nora told her daughters about her past? For now, it was better not to tell Amy she'd been the madam of the brothel in which her mother had worked. "I'm Tess Swenson, an old friend from Missouri. I knew you when you were just a three-year-old girl."

  Did Amy remember anything about that time? Did she remember living in the brothel?

  Lines of concentration formed on Amy's brow, but no sign of recognition lit up her eyes.

  Maybe it's better that way. Tess reached down and offered her hand to help Amy up.

  "Are you here to visit Mama and Papa?" Amy asked while she struggled to her feet.

  "We're here to see your mother and meet you girls," Tess said. "We already met Luke in The Dalles."

  Now Amy's face lit up. For a moment, she looked like three-year-old Amy when Tess had offered her an apple for the horses. "So he made it all right? All the horses are fine?"

  "I didn't ask about the horses, but Luke seemed fine. He was only worried about his family and the ranch."

  "We're doing just fine." Amy straightened, then clutched her side. An expression of pain rushed over her face.

  Tess gripped her elbow. "Oh, yeah. Just fine. I can see that." This young woman was as stubborn as her parents. "Did he hurt you?"

  "No. I'm fine, just a little winded," Amy said.

  If we hadn't gotten lost searching for the ranch and stopped at the cabin to ask for the way, she wouldn't be fine now. Tess shuddered. "Come on. Let's get you home." It was time to keep her promise and take care of Luke's "chicks."

  * * *

  Each of Ruby's steps sent waves of pain through Amy, but she struggled not to let it show.

  "Who is he?" the man Tess had introduced as Frankie asked, pointing his rifle at Adam. His voice was oddly soft for a man — so soft that Amy had mistaken it for the voice of a woman, but the hands holding the rifle looked as if they knew how to fight. "Why did he attack you?"

  "Adam was one of our ranch hands, but he didn't like working for a woman," Amy said. Everything had been fine with Papa in charge, but so much had happened since Amy had taken over. She longed for Papa's return, but at the same time, she wondered what he would say about all of this. Would he think she wasn't capable of running the ranch on her own?

  Tess directed her mare closer to Amy and threw a grim smile over her shoulder. "Oh, don't we know that situation. Most men hate taking orders from a woman."

  "Mama had to threaten him with a rifle. She chased him off the ranch, and in revenge, he set fire to our barn and attacked Mama." A shiver raced down Amy's spine when she thought of that night, the panicked squeals of the horses in the burning stable, Rika's skirt catching fire, and then Mama stumbling toward them, holding her head.

  "Nora!" Tess blanched. "Is she all right?"

  "She's fine. She always said she's got a hard head." Amy forced a smile. Mama wouldn't want her friend to worry about her.

  The color returned to Tess's face. She chuc
kled. "Oh, yes, that she did." Her grin deepened the lines around her eyes and mouth, telling Amy that Tess was probably twice her own age, but Amy still found her beautiful.

  "You can't prove it was me," Adam shouted from his place running next to the three horses.

  "We can prove that you were about to shoot a defenseless woman," Frankie said. "Now shut up and save your breath for keeping up, or I'll drag you behind my horse all the way to the ranch."