by Jae
Nattie shrugged.
"What's going on?" Amy barely managed to keep her voice even. They weren't going to make her confess her unnatural feelings to Nattie, were they? She pressed her hands against her churning stomach.
"Please sit down," Papa said. "We need to talk."
Uh-oh. No pleasant conversation ever started like that. Her shaky knees plopped her down on the divan next to Nattie.
The mantle clock ticked away. Amy's heart pounded twice for every beat of the clock.
Papa looked at Mama.
Mama looked back. Her hands clamped around Papa's forearm. They talked without saying a word, and Amy watched with longing. The connection between her parents filled the room, like a living, breathing, wonderful thing.
Finally, Papa turned his head. The silvery color of his eyes darkened to a rain-cloud gray. He wrapped his arm around Mama as if she were the only thing keeping him from drowning. "Your mother and I talked about it. We didn't make this decision lightly, but we think it's time to tell you."
"Tell us what?" Nattie asked.
Papa swallowed. "It's not easy for me to say this."
Heaviness settled in the pit of Amy's stomach. She wasn't ready to hear more bad news. The thought of Rika being gone soon was enough to keep her up at night.
"What I have to say will confuse you terribly," Papa said, "and you might not love me anymore, but please..." He lifted his hand, palm up, like a beggar pleading for a coin.
Amy shook her head. Not love him anymore? "That will never happen."
"Papa, please." Nattie's fingernails scratched along Amy's chaps, searching for some hold. "You're scaring me."
"I never wanted that. I never wanted you to be afraid or disappointed or confused —"
"Luke," Mama interrupted. She slid even closer to him on the arm of his chair. "I think you should just tell them. There's no way to prepare them for this."
Papa bent forward. His breathing came in quick gasps, and he looked as if he was about to be sick.
Mama laid a hand on his neck as if protecting his vulnerability.
The tension in the room made Amy's stomach roil.
"There's something about me that I kept hidden from most of the world for a long, long time." Papa pressed three fingers to his mouth as if he wanted to hold back the words.
He kept something hidden? It couldn't be something big, could it? After all, Papa was the most honest, most honorable man Amy knew.
"My full name, for one thing," Papa said, circling around the truth like a hawk around a field mouse, getting closer and closer until, finally, he added, "I wasn't born Luke Hamilton."
Nattie's fingers clamped around Amy's arm. "You're an outlaw?" Nattie whispered.
His mouth twitched and then curved up as if he wished it were that easy. "No." He lowered his lashes and studied the diamond pattern of the Brussels carpet. "My mother named me Lucinda."
"Lucinda?" The name echoed through Amy's head. "But that's... that's a girl's name."
"Yes, it is," Papa said slowly, as if every word hurt. "I was born a girl."
Why was he talking like that? Amy squinted at him. "This isn't funny, Papa."
"I'm not joking."
"This doesn't make sense," Nattie said. "People can't switch bodies."
"True." Papa dragged up his gaze and met Amy's eyes, then Nattie's. "But we can choose what to do with our bodies. Some women choose to live as men."
Amy's thoughts were galloping in a thousand directions at once. "You mean like Frankie?"
"I mean like me," Papa said.
"I don't understand." Nattie's voice shook.
"Oh, sweetie. I wish there was an easier way to say this." Papa rubbed his red-rimmed eyes, then looked up. "I'm not a man. I'm a woman."
"No!" Nattie shouted. "You're lying!"
Amy jumped up and shook her head until it pounded. No, this wasn't true. It couldn't be. Her gaze slid over her papa, looking for something, anything... But all she saw was the man she loved and admired. "Impossible!"
Her gaze darted to Mama. Amy pressed her hands together and silently begged Mama to deny it.
But Mama nodded, her lips forming a thin white line.
The sick feeling in the pit of Amy's stomach spiraled out of control.
Mama turned her head to press a kiss to Papa's temple and entwined their fingers.
For the first time, Amy noticed that Papa's hands didn't dwarf Mama's. Not the way Josh's hands looked next to Hannah's. For a man, Papa's hands were slender, their backs not dotted with hair.
Her own hands flew to her mouth. "No. No. This can't be true."
Nattie cried and shouted, and Mama said something, but the buzzing in Amy's ears drowned out their voices. Her world spun on its axis, refusing to right itself. She couldn't listen right now. She couldn't stay.
She jerked free from Nattie's viselike grip on her forearm and fled.
Hamilton Horse Ranch
Baker Prairie, Oregon
June 26, 1868
RIKA CURSED HER injured shoulder. It condemned her to sit at the table with the pastor. At least Phin got to bustle around, lifting a pot of water onto the hook above the fire, while she faced Reverend Rhodes's stare alone.
She hooked her fingers in her crocheted shawl and lowered her gaze under the pretense of re-adjusting the sling. The smell of leather and grass still clung to the fabric, bringing a mental image of Amy. Rika's cheeks heated at the thought of Amy dressing her.
"...on Monday," the pastor said, making Rika's head jerk up. "What do you think? I have a beautiful sermon about the sanctity of marriage."
Phin and Rika exchanged a glance. Was he as insecure about getting married as she was?
Shouts from outside shattered the uneasy silence in the cabin.
Rika strained her ears. What was going on?
"Amy!" Luke shouted over the din of the other voices.
She'd never heard him shout. Unlike her own father, he seemed like a calm and gentle man. Something was wrong. Something with Amy.
With an apologetic glance at the pastor, Rika hastened to the door, almost colliding with Phin and the coffee pot in his hands. She veered to the side and opened the door.
Amy hurried past the cabin, her strides as long and fast as she could make them without outright running. She disappeared into the stable, not glancing at Rika.
"Please, Amy!" Luke flew down the veranda steps. "Amy, wait!"
Nora caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs. She rubbed her hands up and down his arms.
Rika stuck her head out the door and strained to hear what they were saying.
"We need to give her some time," Nora said, her voice gentle, as if she were talking to a scared child or an injured animal. "She's just confused. Her whole world has been turned upside down."
Amy! What happened? Rika's heart slammed against her ribs. She stepped out of the cabin.
"Hendrika?" Phin called.
She glanced back.
Phin gestured at the pastor and the Bible on the table.
If she wanted to start her new life as a married woman soon, she needed to stay and have coffee with the pastor. This is what you came here for. It's what you wanted. Close the door and sit back down.
But she didn't move. She sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, and made a decision. Making sure Amy was all right was more important than securing her future as Phin's bride. "I'm sorry," she said. "But something's wrong with Amy."
"Marriage needs to be taken seriously, Ms. Bruggeman," the pastor said. "You can't walk away when we were discussing —"
"Excuse us," Phin said. Three quick steps brought him next to Rika.
Luke stormed toward them, his dark lashes clumped together by... Rika stared. Were those tears?
"What's wrong with Amy?" Phin asked his boss. "Half an hour ago, she was fine."
"Something I said really unsettled Amy. I need to talk to her, to explain..." Luke waved his hands as if to shoo them out of the way.
&nbs
p; Nattie stepped onto the veranda, paused, and then walked over to them. Her gray eyes looked like coals in her pale face, the red rims like a ring of embers. When her father tried to make eye contact, her gaze veered to the side.
Phin hurried over and gripped her elbow. "You all right?"
"I'm fine," Nattie said with trembling lips.
"What on God's green earth happened?" Rika asked. Amy had fled to the stable, and even the usually calm Nattie looked as if she'd been through hell.
No one answered her.
Something boiled over inside of Rika. She was fed up with the lies bubbling beneath the surface. The Hamiltons hid their own secrets — and now one of those secrets had hurt Amy. But how could Rika shout at them and demand to know what had driven Amy away when she, too, was lying?
The barn door banged open.
Ruby pranced into the yard, led by a grim-faced Amy.
"No!" Her father took a step, then stopped as if coming closer would scare her away. "Amy, please, stay and talk to me."
"Let her go if she wants," Phin said. "She'll stew a little and then be back. That's what she always does."
"This isn't like the other times," Luke answered, his gaze fixed on Amy. His voice vibrated with tension. "I can't explain, but it just isn't."
Amy grabbed the reins and prepared to swing onto Ruby's bare back.
"Oh, no, you don't!" Rika flew across the yard. She reached out to grab the bridle. Pain shot through her arm, and she cried out as it fell back into the sling.
"Rika!" Knees bent to jump on her horse, Amy stopped. "What are you doing?" She dropped the reins to cradle Rika's arm.
"Stopping you from running away again," Rika said. She grasped the bridle with her left hand.
Instead of looking at her, Amy squinted over her shoulder to where her parents stood. The vacant expression in her eyes reminded Rika of the soldiers in the field hospital. Those young men looked dazed, numb, as if they were still on the battlefield, with mortar shells exploding all around them. "Get out of the way," Amy said, her voice flat.
Rika tightened her grasp on the bridle. "If you go, take me with you." In her shell-shocked condition, Amy shouldn't be alone.
"You can't ride with your shoulder."
"I'll manage." Rika raised her chin.
When Amy stared at her, the haze finally lifted from her eyes. She sighed. "It's not fair to stop a panicked horse from running," she whispered.
Rika let go of the bridle and rubbed Amy's hand until she relaxed her fingers around the strand of mane in her grasp. "Why are you scared?" Rika lowered her voice too. "What happened?"
"Amy." Luke inched closer, hands at his sides, no hasty moves. "Please come back inside. I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but please, at least stay and talk to your mother."
"Is she even my mother?"
Luke flinched as if Amy had slapped him. "Lash out at me all you want. The Lord knows I deserve it. But don't hurt your mother."
The bit of mane fell from Amy's grasp. Her shoulders hunched. "I'm sorry, Mama."
"Come inside," Nora said.
Amy handed Phin the reins and slouched back to the house.
When Rika returned to the cabin, the pastor still sat at the table, white-knuckling his Bible. "Monday," he said firmly. "I hope once you are married, you'll start keeping better company."
Hamilton Horse Ranch
Baker Prairie, Oregon
June 26, 1868
AMY COULDN'T THINK when she sat still. Not that pacing through the parlor helped.
"For land's sake, sit!" Nattie said.
The sharp tone stopped Amy's pacing. Nattie had never talked to her like this.
"I'm already feeling sick to my stomach, and your pacing doesn't help."
Strangely, it made the tight band of steel around Amy's chest loosen. Compared to the tumult inside of her, Nattie seemed almost calm. For a moment, she had thought Nattie was unaffected or had even known Papa's secret. Papa. The word left a bitter taste on her tongue. He's not your papa. She. Lord. She pressed her fingertips to her temples. Nothing made sense anymore.
"It's really true?" Nattie asked, her voice trembling. "Are you really...?"
"A woman," Luke said. "Yes."
Nattie swung her head back and forth. "I don't believe it."
"Please," Luke said, "don't make me show you." The lines of despair in the pale face made Amy's protective instincts flare.
How strange. She'd never needed to protect Papa. Luke. Lucinda. Not Papa. Her brain was stuck on that one thought. "It's all a lie," she said. "My whole life and Nattie's... all one big lie. How could you do that to us? How could you trick Mama into believing —"
"Wait a minute, Amy." Mama thrust out her hand. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, but Luke never tricked me into anything."
"You knew?" Amy asked and then shook her head at herself. Of course Mama knew. She had shared her life and her bed with Luke for decades. The air whooshed out of her lungs. "D-does that mean..." She glanced at Mama, then at Luke, who again dropped her gaze to the Brussels carpet. "You share your bed with... a woman?"
Mama fanned her fingers over Luke's shoulder. "I share my bed, my body, and my life with the person I love. Her gender doesn't matter."
"Doesn't matter?" Nattie shot up from the divan. "How can you say that? Of course it matters! Suddenly everything is so... so..." Tears sprang into her eyes.
Amy wrapped her in her arms and rocked her as she had when Nattie had been a little girl. She didn't know if it helped Nattie, but it had an unexpectedly soothing effect on her. She looked at Mama, who stood next to Papa... Luke, as she always did, chin up, emerald fire in her eyes.
"Luke's gender didn't matter when she led our wagon train to Oregon," Nora said, her voice velvet-lined steel. "Her gender didn't matter when you, Nattie, broke your nose and were crying for Luke to hold you. And it didn't matter when —"
"It mattered when you lied to us," Amy shouted. "You lied to us every day of our lives."
Luke's head jerked up. "No." She took a step toward them, then stopped and held out her hands. "Please don't believe that. I wasn't pretending. It's not an act. I showed you my true self all along. I just let you believe that this true self is male."
"But why?" Nattie asked. She lifted her head from Amy's shoulder and rubbed her eyes.
"Because this," Luke tugged at her shirt, "is who I am. There is no other life for me."
Nattie sniffled. "No, I mean, why lie to us? Why did you let us believe that you're a man and our father?"
"I never wanted to deceive you. I thought I was doing what was best for you."
"Best for us?" Nattie's voice sounded like the squeaking of chalk over a blackboard. "How can all the lies be what's best for us?"
"In the beginning, you were too little to understand and to keep my secret. If you had blurted it out to the wrong person..." Luke pressed her lips together until they formed a razor-sharp line.
Again, Mama threaded her fingers through Luke's. It was a familiar gesture, one that Amy had witnessed a thousand times over the years, but now it looked different. Nothing would ever be the same again. "You need to be careful not to give Luke away," Mama said. "If the wrong person learns Luke's secret, we will all be in danger. The ranch could be burned down or Luke killed over this."
Amy's stomach turned to stone. The panicked squeals of the horses in the burning barn echoed in her ears, and she imagined Mama kneeling in the ashes, crying, clutching Luke's dead body. She dug her short nails into her palms and forced away the image.
"We couldn't risk our lives, our safety on the discretion of a child," Mama said.
"We haven't been blabber-mouthed children for many years." Nattie's eyes flashed like knives. "You could have trusted us."
"This was never about trust," Luke said. "I trust you with my life, otherwise I wouldn't tell you now."
"Why are you telling us now?" Nattie asked.
From across the room, Luke's gaze met Amy
's. "Because I'm through ducking my head in shame for who I am."
Like I do. Amy hung her head. The message was intended for her. When she noticed what she was doing, she forced her chin up. She looked from Luke to Mama and back again. Everything she had believed in, everything she thought was true now proved to be a lie, but one thing was still clear without a doubt: her parents loved each other, and they wanted her to see how proud they were of their love.
