by Jae
"I know he's... she's a woman," Tess said, her voice low, "but when Luke was with me..." She trailed off and shook her head. "You don't want to hear this."
Part of her wanted to pretend Luke had never been with anyone but her, but the bigger part of Nora wanted to learn whatever she could about Luke and understand her even better than she already did. "I know you and Luke were more than friends for a while." When Tess looked away, she squeezed her hands. "I'm not jealous. I'm grateful you were there for her when she thought no one would ever love her."
"And Luke was there for me when I thought no one would ever love me," Tess said. At the mere mention of love, her gaze left Nora and found Frankie.
Nora smiled. "So, what did you want to say about Luke?"
"When I first met Luke, he... she..."
"It's all right." Nora touched Tess's forearm. "Use whatever feels more natural to you. I know Luke wouldn't mind either way."
"When I first met Luke, he was lonely, cut off from the rest of the world by the need to hide and keep his distance. He was starved for some human touch and affection, yet when he shared my bed..." Tess stopped and looked at Nora as if to make sure she was still all right with hearing about Luke's past with her.
Nora's gaze darted left and right, making sure no one was within hearing distance; then she nodded at Tess. "Go on."
"Luke is a wonderful lover, as I'm sure you know." A mischievous smile dimpled Tess's cheeks, and Nora felt heat suffuse her face. "She didn't really know what to do with a woman, but she was gentle and attentive. She came into my life at a time when I had already given up on that, so what we had was special. But she rarely allowed me to touch her freely, to touch her as I would another woman. I always got the feeling Luke was more comfortable if I thought of him as a man — so I did."
It had been like that between Luke and her in the beginning too.
"I take it it's not like that between the two of you?" Tess leaned closer. "Does Luke allow you to caress her breasts, to touch —"
"Lord, Tess!" Blood rushed to Nora's skin, and she knew she was blushing bright red. None of the neighbor women talked about intimate matters so openly. As a matter of fact, they don't talk about it at all. A lady isn't supposed to enjoy relations with her husband, much less talk about it.
"What?" Tess chuckled. "You never used to blush about these things."
Her life in Tess's brothel felt like a lifetime ago, and Nora knew she wasn't the same woman anymore. "Yes." She rubbed the tip of her ear, which was glowing. "But back then, we were talking about the men who touched my body. Luke touches my heart and soul."
Tess pulled her into a quick hug. "I'm so happy for you. And I'm sorry for asking about private matters between the two of you."
"No, it's all right. You can ask. I know you ask because you care about us."
"I do." With one last squeeze, Tess let go. The grin returned to her face. "And you don't need to answer. Your blush speaks for itself."
Again, Nora felt her cheeks grow warm, and she chuckled at herself. "Yeah, well..."
"It's wonderful to know Luke trusts you enough to make herself vulnerable and show you her female side."
It was wonderful. Nora loved the female side as much as the Lucas Hamilton that Luke showed to the world. But old doubts remained, and maybe it was finally time to share them with someone. "Sometimes, I wonder if that kind of trust isn't making things harder for Luke."
"Harder?" Tess shook her head. "How could that be?"
"Before I met Luke, there wasn't much difference between how Luke was in private and how she acted around others. The life she lived was that of a man — in almost every way." Seventeen years ago, small children had terrified Luke. She hadn't known how to comfort Amy and stiffened whenever Amy's little arms wrapped around her in a hug. Back then, Luke had been cut off not just from other people, but from her own emotions. Good gracious, she didn't even name her horse, just because she thought it was unmanly.
"And now?" Tess asked.
"And now Luke enjoys brushing my hair at night, she cries in my arms when one of our horses dies, and sometimes, she comes home with a bouquet of wildflowers and leaves little love notes for me all over the house." Last night, she had found a romantic little note hidden in the drawer that held her chemises. "And," she added with a hint of a blush, "she enjoys it when I make love to her."
A frown deepened the lines on Tess's forehead. "I'd think all of that would make Luke's life happier, not harder."
"Yes, but now she needs to pretend and lie more in the rest of her life to hide that softer side. Now there are two Lukes, where before, there was only one."
A golden-silver lock of hair tumbled from beneath Tess's bonnet when she shook her head. "That part of Luke has always been there. It's just been smothered and ignored all these years. Now for the first time, Luke has someone in his life that he trusts enough to show both sides. Your love isn't trapping Luke. It's freeing him."
"Hey, you two!" A pitchfork of hay rained down on them.
Nora looked up and into Frankie's grinning face.
"Are you here to gab or to help with the haying?" Frankie asked, one hand on her hip.
When Nora let her gaze wander over the field, she found that Amy had finished raking. Now Toby drove the bigger buck rake along the rows of hay and raked them into larger piles.
Tess stuck her tongue out at Frankie, making her look like a little girl despite the gray streaks in her hair. "Gab."
Another forkful of hay hit Tess in the chest. "Help." Frankie returned the playful grin.
Tess picked up her pitchfork and tossed hay in Frankie's direction.
"Hey, what's going on?" Amy strode toward them. "Mama, you did tell them that the hay is supposed to go in the wagon, right?"
Nora laughed. It was good to have Tess back in her life.
Hank steered the wagon to the first big pile of hay, and they pitched the hay into the wagon. The high end and front of the wagon prevented the hay from tumbling out. Emmett climbed up, spread the hay evenly, and packed it down to make room for more.
While Nora worked, she kept an eye on Amy to make sure tossing up the hay didn't hurt her ribs. Amy never flinched. She took the time to show Hendrika how to handle the pitchfork and pitch up the hay without losing half of it.
After several piles of hay, the wagon was filled as high as it could be.
"All right," Amy called. "Let's bring the first load home."
* * *
"Whoa!" Hank called when the wagon rolled through the big double doors of the barn. Right under the hay door that went up into the loft, the wagon pulled to a stop.
Amy jumped down from the wagon. Before Emmett could do it, she extended a hand to help Rika down.
Emmett climbed into the hayloft. From a track on the roof of the barn, the hayfork was lowered into the wagon, and Hank guided it to grasp a load of hay.
"Come on." Amy nudged Rika, who stared up into the loft. "You can help me with the horses." Two geldings were already harnessed to the rope that ran through a system of pulleys. "Grab his bridle."
They urged the horses forward, and the hay was lifted into the loft.
Up in the loft, Emmett shouted, "Stop 'em!"
"Whoa!" Amy pulled the horses to a stop and watched Rika tighten her grip on the gelding on her side.
They smiled at each other.
Hank pulled the rope that tripped the release. The hayfork opened and dropped its load into the loft. While Hank directed the fork back into the wagon, Amy turned the horses to heave up the next load.
After several repetitions, the wagon finally sat empty. A sense of accomplishment swept over Amy, and she shook her head at herself. It's just the first load. Back to work. She turned toward Hank. "You and Emmett take the wagon back to the field. Rika and I will climb up and stack the hay to make room for more."
The two men didn't hesitate to follow her orders. Within a minute, the wagon rumbled out of the barn, leaving Amy and Rika behind.
"You up for it?" Amy pointed to the loft. Stowing away the hay was hard work.
"Of course." Rika never shied away from any task. It was part of what Amy liked about her.
Stifling hot air engulfed Amy as soon as she stuck her head through the open hay door and pulled herself into the loft. The sun had been standing high up in the sky for hours, and heat accumulated under the roof. Sweat trickled down Amy's back, and she hadn't even picked up a pitchfork yet.
"What do I do?" Rika asked, pitchfork already in hand.
The hayfork had dropped the hay in the middle of the loft, and Amy pointed at the big pile. "We spread the hay and make sure to fill the corners and edges of the loft, then we level it to make room for more." To demonstrate, she stuck her pitchfork into the hay and lifted the first forkful. Two quick steps and she dropped it neatly into one corner of the hayloft.
They worked side by side, sometimes brushing against each other when they walked back and forth between the corners and the big hay pile. Heat raced along Amy's skin whenever that happened, and combined with the dusty heat in the loft, it made her blood seem to boil. It was sweet torture, and Amy berated herself but couldn't quite stop.
Finally, she paused and leaned on her pitchfork to wipe sweat from her face. Her gaze swept over the work they had already done and then to the shrinking pile of hay in the middle of the loft. Then she looked at Rika, and for a few moments, she forgot the work still to be done.
Beams of sunlight trickled into the loft, bathing Rika in gold. Her skirt and bodice, damp with sweat, clung to the gentle curves of her body. She had removed her bonnet, and now stalks of hay dotted the mahogany hair. A few tendrils had gotten loose from their pins and stuck to the fair skin of her neck. Her face was flushed with the heat, and Amy watched as a drop of sweat trailed down her neck.
"What?" Rika set down her pitchfork when she noticed Amy's staring. Her gloved hands flew up to touch her hair. "Something wrong with my hair?"
It's beautiful, Amy wanted to say, but of course she didn't. "No. It's just covered in hay dust."
"So's yours." Rika reached out but pulled back before she touched Amy's hair.
Amy cleared her throat. "Let's get something to drink." She walked to the edge of the hayloft, where she'd left her canteen. Maybe cooling off with a sip of water would chase away the inappropriate thoughts swirling through her head. She uncorked the canteen and handed it to Rika first.
With a nod of thanks, Rika lifted the canteen to her lips and tilted back her head. Amy couldn't help watching the graceful arch of her neck as she swallowed.
The urge to press her lips to that fair neck raced through her, and she fought it down. Usually, she had much better control over those urges. She took the canteen back and took a swig. The water was warm, but it still felt good sliding down her parched throat.
A soft hand touched her forearm. Rika had taken off her gloves and trailed her fingers up to the bend of Amy's arm.
The gulp of water in Amy's mouth shot back out.
"Hey!" Rika jumped back when drops of water drenched her.
Coughing and wheezing, Amy stared at her, then at her own arm, which still tingled from Rika's touch. "W-what are you doing?"
"Your arms..."
"What about them?" Amy stared at her arms, halfway expecting to see burn marks where Rika's touch had heated her skin. Instead, her forearms were speckled with tiny red marks where hay stalks had pricked her.
"You should roll down your sleeves," Rika said. She wiped a few drops of water from her face. "And thanks for the refreshment."
Dumbfounded, Amy stared at her for a second; then she discovered the unexpected twinkle in the brown eyes. When Rika had first arrived at the ranch, she had been earnest and serious all the time. Rarely had Amy seen her laugh or smile, and the good-natured teasing in the Hamilton family had clearly been foreign to Rika.
But now a mischievous grin parted Rika's lips, giving Amy a glance of the charming gap between Rika's front teeth. The sight of Rika's playfulness filled Amy with a heady feeling. Laughter bubbled up, chasing away her awkward breathlessness around Rika. "Oh, you! Since I provided you with a nice cooling bath, how about I help you dry off too?"
Not giving Rika time to answer or flee, she picked up a handful of hay and threw it at Rika.
Rika sputtered and blew stalks away from her face. Then she dived for Amy.
They tumbled into the hay, laughing and trying to stuff handfuls of hay down each other's clothes. Light-headedness gripped Amy, and she felt drunk on Rika's laughter.
They rolled through a pile of hay, stalks raining down on them. A warm touch slid up Amy's belly. She froze. Then hay tickled her skin, and she tried to squirm away. Next to the still open hay door, they rolled to a stop with Rika coming to rest on top of her.
"Careful," Amy whispered, not just meaning the open hatch next to them. She felt on the edge of something dangerous, something she couldn't name. Her breath rattled through her chest, and it wasn't Rika's weight on top of her that made her breathless.
Rika blinked down at her from mere inches away. They stared at each other.
Then Rika's eyes widened. "Your ribs!" She scrambled back.
When Rika's heat moved away, Amy sucked in a cooling breath — and then almost choked on it when Rika's hands flew over her body.
"Did I hurt you?" Uncoordinated, Rika searched for any sign of injury. "Lord, I'm so sorry. I didn't think about your ribs."
"It's all right. It's fine." Accidentally, Rika brushed the outer edge of her breast, and Amy gasped. Panic warred with the heat in her belly and finally won. She crawled backward, trying to escape Rika's touch.
"Amy!" Rika lunged forward and threw her arms around Amy. The tight embrace prevented her from tumbling through the hay door. "Amy, Amy, what are you doing? You almost fell!"
The heated whisper brushed Amy's ear. Her heart thumped so loudly that she was sure Rika could hear it. What am I doing? What am I doing?
She had no answer.
"Are you all right?" Rika touched her cheek.
Amy nodded shakily even though she felt anything but all right. "You?"
"I'm fine," Rika said. Her face was flushed from their roughhousing and from uncontrolled laughter. Dark eyes probed Amy's.
Amy slipped out of Rika's arms, careful not to come too close to the hay door again. "We should finish stowing away the hay before Hank returns with the next load."
A shower of hay rained down from Rika when she got to her feet and shook herself. She looked around at the scattered piles of hay. Her full lips crooked into a half smile. "Oh, we really made a mess of things."
Yeah. That was exactly how Amy's formerly well-ordered life felt. A complete and utter mess. Sighing, she shook bits of hay from her shirt and picked up her pitchfork.
The Dalles, Oregon
June 9, 1868
"BOY, I'VE NEVER been so damn glad to see a town in my life," Charlie said as they followed the last bend in the river and the houses of The Dalles appeared before them.
Luke halted Dancer next to Charlie's gelding and gave the young man a pat on the shoulder. The last two weeks had been hard on him. His boot and the stirrup leather rubbed against his injured leg with every step his horse took. Every morning, Luke wrapped a new bandage and thick padding around his calf, but the wound still hadn't closed. It would heal once Charlie stayed out of the saddle for a while, and as soon as they got home, Luke would make sure he did.
"We'll stay overnight," Luke said. It would give Charlie a chance to rest his leg and her an opportunity for a bath. While taking care of Charlie and making sure Phin was all right, she hadn't been able to slip away for a quick dip in the creek. "Phin, take one of the double eagles. Go to the bank and get silver dollars for it. Board your horses, then buy yourself and Charlie a juicy steak and a drink. Book rooms in the hotel for tonight."
The prospect of a good meal and a soft bed put a smile on Phin's face for the first time in days. By the time they dismounte
d on The Dalles's main street with its false fronts, he was joking around with Charlie.
Exhaustion overcame Luke when she led Dancer and Bill Walters's two geldings to the livery stable. Even the trail dust on her clothes seemed to weigh her down. You're not a young man anymore, she told herself with a wry grin, then chuckled when she noticed she had used "man," not "woman." After living in close quarters with two of her ranch hands for every minute of the last six weeks, the differences between who she was and who she pretended to be began to blur.
She longed to go home and rediscover the closely guarded parts of herself in Nora's gentle embrace.
Soon. Two more weeks and she would be home. If they hurried, they might make it in ten or eleven days. On the lonely mountain roads, Luke knew she would count the hours.
