by Jae
Amy reached over and gripped Rika's hand with both of hers.
The gentle touch of Amy's thumb against her palm sent tingles up Rika's arm, distracting her from her thoughts of the past for a moment. "My whole life has been a struggle to survive, and I never thought it could be different, that there could be more to life," Rika said. "Now that I know love exists, I have a hard time thinking it's a bad thing — no matter what kind of love. Compared to all the cruelty I've seen, how can love be a sin?"
"Mama and Papa say the same thing, but I let myself believe for so long that I need to hide that part of myself."
Now it was Rika's turn to squeeze Amy's hands. "It's all right. Maybe it's easier for me because I never really thought about two women together before. I didn't let the thought that it's wrong fester in my head and in my heart like you did."
"Then where do we go from here?"
"Hm." Rika peered at the basket, then grinned up at Amy through half-lowered lids. "We could start by having dessert." She lifted one of the dark red berries from the basket and held it out to Amy.
Amy's gaze darted back and forth between the strawberry and Rika. Then she leaned forward and ate the strawberry out of Rika's hand, careful not to touch her fingers with her lips in the process.
Rika licked remnants of berry juice from her fingers.
Chewing, Amy watched her. Her eyes darkened with a hunger that had nothing to do with food. She cleared her throat and reached into the basket. "Here. You try one."
Rika moved closer and ate the strawberry out of Amy's hand. The sweet, ripe taste burst on her tongue. Before she stopped chewing, she picked up the next berry.
They fed each other berry after berry. With each one, lips became more daring and fingers lingered longer.
"This is the last one," Amy finally said.
"Share with me?"
When Amy nodded, Rika took the strawberry from Amy's hand with careful teeth. She straightened and waited with the strawberry clamped between her lips.
Amy slid closer. Her knees pressed against Rika's. Heat shot through Rika as Amy's hand came to rest against her hip. Amy leaned forward and bit off a piece of the strawberry.
Their lips brushed.
Then all thoughts of strawberries vanished as they kissed, again and again.
Shuddering, Amy pulled away and rolled onto her back.
Rika settled down next to her. She slid her hand into Amy's and closed her eyes with a contented sigh. Her thoughts drifted.
"Before you met me, did you ever think you might have feelings for women?" Amy's low voice interrupted her daydreams.
Rika turned her head and opened one eye. "Before I met you, I never had feelings for anyone. Not that kind of feelings. How did you know?" While Rika hadn't grown up around love of any kind, Amy had seemed aware two women could love each other, even before meeting Tess and Frankie.
"A few years ago, I used to spend a lot of time with Hannah. One afternoon, we went riding. When our horses got tired, we rested on a meadow, just like we're doing now."
A strange feeling bristled along Rika's skin and made her hold on tighter to Amy's hand. She rubbed her finger over Amy's calluses. Had Amy held Hannah's hand too? Had they lain together, resting against each other like this?
Her throat tightened. Blood rushed through her ears, and she heard Amy's voice as if from under water.
"Rika?"
A squeeze to her hand made Rika blink. She shook her head to clear it.
"Hey." Amy caressed her wrist and leaned over her, staring down at her with a concerned look in her eyes. "You all right?"
Rika licked her lips and opened her mouth. "I don't like the thought of you with Hannah."
Amy's fingers froze against Rika's wrist.
"Oh." Rika pressed her fingers to her traitorous lips.
Tilting her head, Amy stared down at her. Then, slowly, a grin formed on her lips. She pulled Rika's hand away from her mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm. "You've got nothing to worry about, you know?"
"You don't have feelings for Hannah anymore?"
"No." A kiss to the inside of her wrist made Rika's arm tingle up to her shoulder. "I've never felt for Hannah or anyone else the way I feel for you," Amy whispered against her skin.
The roaring in Rika's ears finally receded. She relaxed back onto the blanket.
After a while, with their shoulders resting against each other, Amy continued. "When we were out riding together, Hannah used to go on and on about Josh and how she felt about him, how her heartbeat picked up when she heard his step, how her hands got damp and her stomach fluttered when he was close." Amy swallowed. She glanced at Rika, then away. "And it dawned on me that she could have been describing my feelings for her."
Rika tightened her hold on Amy's hand. Don't be childish. That was years ago, and Hannah is happily married now. She forced herself to focus on Amy. "You understood what you were feeling even back then?"
"Not at first. I told myself it was what every girl felt for her best friend."
"What changed?"
"A few years ago, two widows in town were living together," Amy said, gazing into the sky as if it showed her the past. "Some of the boys and girls made fun of them, calling them strange for preferring to keep company with each other rather than accept a new husband. But I never paid much attention. To me, it felt perfectly..." She hesitated but then said, "...natural for them to want to spend time with each other, not with a man."
"Just like you wanted to spend time with Hannah." Rika pressed a hand to her stomach until Amy reached over and took that hand too. "Those two widows... were they just friends?"
Amy's grip on Rika's hands tightened. "No. One day, someone found them in bed together, having... you know. Sharing the bed like a man and a woman would."
Rika stared at their entwined hands, then up into Amy's eyes. "That's when you knew what your feelings meant?"
Biting her lip, Amy nodded. "I knew I was the same, but I didn't want to be. Not when it could cost me everything. People drove them out of town." Amy shivered. "No one did anything to defend them. No one, not even my parents. So I knew I needed to bury my feelings deep inside and never act on them."
Rika rubbed her hands along Amy's arms until the goose bumps disappeared. "Did you ask your parents why they didn't help?"
"Oh, no." Amy shook her head energetically, eyes wide. "At least not back then. I never talked to anyone about it. I was afraid someone would think I was too interested in such relationships."
"Hm." Rika trailed her fingertips over the calluses on Amy's palm, then the ones on her fingers, as if they were a map leading her to all the answers. "Maybe your parents avoided bringing it up or defending the widows for the same reason."
"That's what Mama said too. Mama and Papa only learned about what townsfolk did to the widows days after it had happened. But back then, I thought they agreed with what the people in town said." Amy lowered her gaze. "I thought if they ever found out, it would change how they feel about me."
"Amy." A squeeze to her hands got Amy to look up and meet Rika's gaze. "Nothing could change your parents' love for you." She swallowed down a complicated mix of sadness, envy, and happiness.
Amy pulled one of her hands out of Rika's grasp and ran her fingers through her hair. She rolled around and stared down at Rika from just inches away. "I know they love me. But how could it not change how they feel about me when it changed how I feel about myself?"
Do I feel different about myself too? Rika closed her eyes and listened, trying to reach deep inside, but all she felt was Amy's warm, almost desperate grip on her hand, the way their fingers fit against each other. She opened her eyes and smiled. "Maybe it changed how they feel about you. But change isn't always bad, is it?"
Amy's grip on her hand loosened, and she returned Rika's smile. "You're right. It's not." She sank back onto the blanket and exhaled.
Rika cuddled closer until she felt Amy's warmth. Her eyes drifted shut.
A
light breeze brushed over her bare feet, and she wiggled her toes, enjoying the feeling. The wind carried the scent of wildflowers and moss. The sun shone down on them, and Amy's hand holding hers warmed up Rika's skin even more. Birdsong and the river's soft gurgling almost lulled her to sleep.
She forced open heavy lids. When she turned her head to look at Amy, Amy met her gaze and smiled.
A feeling Rika had never known filled her. This is peace. She breathed in the scent of wildflowers and Amy. Or maybe, she thought, maybe it's love.
* * *
Two weeks later, Amy wandered across the meadow, gaze on the ground. She trailed her hand through the grass, parting it, and plucked a yellow buttercup. After discarding two that weren't pretty enough, she added a pink wildflower.
A few feet away, Ruby and Cinnamon lifted their heads and eyed Amy's bunch of flowers.
"Oh, no. You two go on eating your grass. These are for Rika." She lifted the flowers to her nose and inhaled their sweet scent. Her eyes fluttered shut as she imagined Rika's delighted, gap-toothed grin when she gave her the flowers.
A horse snorted behind her.
Amy whirled around.
Papa slid out of the saddle and wiped her forehead with her bandanna.
Weeks ago, Amy had tried starting to think of her as "Luke," but it wasn't working. Nothing had really changed. Papa still worked hard at the ranch, still loved Mama, and still helped out the neighbors. She behaved the same and looked the same as ever.
Man or woman, this was the only father Amy had ever known, and her brain — or maybe her heart — refused to call Luke anything but "Papa."
"Hello, Amy. I thought that was you. What are you doing here?"
"Um... nothing." Amy hid the flowers behind her back. "I'm on my way into town to take Rika riding."
"Amy." The lines around Papa's eyes deepened when she smiled. "You don't have to hide this from me. Don't be embarrassed. I think it's sweet."
Slowly, Amy brought her hand out from behind her back. She fiddled with the stems and tugged on a tiny leaf. Not hiding her feelings for Rika was still new.
"In fact," Papa said, "I'll pick some for your mother." She dropped Dancer's reins, ground-tying the well-trained gelding, and shoved back her hat.
Side by side, they wandered across the meadow and pointed out clumps of especially beautiful flowers to each other.
"Is this strange for you?" Amy asked when they stopped at the edge of the meadow to add some wild roses.
"What?" Papa asked. "Picking flowers?"
"Yes. No. I mean..." A flower fluttered to the ground as Amy gestured, and she bent to pick it up, then turned to look at Papa.
"You mean is it strange for me to know that we're both picking flowers for a woman?"
Amy nodded, glad that Papa said it for her.
Two more roses completed Papa's bouquet. She paused and let her gaze sweep over the meadow. "No. I think it will be harder for me once Nattie comes home with a suitor. I can relate to you loving a woman."
Sometimes, it was still hard for Amy to remember that her father was like her — a woman who loved another woman. At the same time, it made things easier for her. If she ever got up enough courage, she could ask her parents for advice. She nodded thoughtfully and used her knife to cut all the stems to the same length.
Papa's gaze rested on her.
Amy fidgeted until she almost cut herself.
"Something on your mind?" Papa asked.
Something? A million things. A dozen different thoughts, questions, and emotions spun through Amy's mind.
Papa took the knife away from her. "What is it? You know you can talk to me about anything."
Amy looked down at grass-stained fingertips. "If you hadn't been able to marry Mama, would you still..."
"What?"
Heat climbed up Amy's chest, and she knew her cheeks were glowing. "Would you still want to... to live with her and kiss her like a husband would?"
"Of course I would." Papa rubbed the ring on her hand. "A few words spoken in front of a judge or a priest don't change how I feel about Nora." Her eyes narrowed. "But this isn't really about your mother and me, is it? What are you asking?"
"Rika has been married once, but I can't offer her that."
"You can offer her love."
"Yes, and that's what has me so..." Other words formed in Amy's head, but she couldn't say them.
Papa laid down her bunch of flowers and gripped Amy's hand with both of hers. "Amy, your mother and I took a big risk by telling you the truth about us. We did that because we wanted you to have someone you could talk to about your feelings. So please, whatever it is, don't think you have to go through this alone."
Remnants of hurt about not being told sooner still lingered within Amy, but it paled in comparison to her gratitude. She lifted her gaze and looked into Papa's silver-gray eyes. "Is it right to want to kiss Rika and to... to touch her if we're not married and will never be?"
"Come here." Papa sank into the grass and nodded at Amy to sit down next to her.
Her cheeks still burning, Amy sat. At least this way, she wouldn't have to look Papa in the eyes.
"When I married your mother, I promised to love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of our lives," Papa said. "If you can promise Rika the same, if it's not just a passing infatuation, then I think you should consider yourself married — with all the rights and obligations that come with it."
It sounded so simple. Maybe it was. But what if she had no earthly idea how to go about fulfilling certain rights and obligations? Amy pinched her nose.
"What is it?" Papa asked.
Amy combed her fingers through the grass and stared at the ground. "The girls in town... I heard them talk about the marriage bed."
"Oh." Papa swept off her hat and fanned her face with it. Was she blushing? Then she put down her hat and gave Amy a sidelong glance. "So, what did they say?"
Amy hesitated. A young woman wasn't supposed to talk to her father about such intimate matters. But her father was not like any other father. "They said women are supposed to lift their nightgown, lie back, and wait until their husbands are finished with... their business. But Rika and I..." She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "What do you do when there is no husband?"
Papa plucked a blade of grass and studied it as if the answer were written on the green stalk.
Lord, how embarrassing. I shouldn't have asked. Amy pulled her knees up and leaned her forehead against them, hiding her flushed face.
When she opened her mouth to apologize for her inappropriate question, Papa finally spoke, "Well, if two people love each other, I would hope that the marriage bed holds more for them than just lying back and waiting until it's over, no matter if they are husband and wife or two women."
Amy wanted to ask how, but embarrassment kept her jaw locked. She licked dry lips and ripped out handfuls of grass. Loving Rika wasn't the problem. She just didn't know what to do with all those feelings of love and passion that were bottled up inside of her. "B-but what if I don't know what to do?" she blurted before she could stop herself. "What if I get it all wrong?"
"If you touch her with love, you can't go wrong, Amy. Think of her pleasure first and foremost, not just your own."
When Amy lifted her head off her knees, she met Papa's steady gaze. Holding her gaze was hard, but she didn't want to miss a word Papa said.
"If you have ever pleasured yourself, you know what feels good to you."
Heat seared through Amy. She ducked her head to hide her flushed cheeks.
Papa tapped Amy's knee and got her to look up. "Rika might like to be touched the same way. Ask her what feels good to her, and let her know what feels good to you," Papa said. "Listen to what her body says. Just keep talking, and you'll be fine."
Not sure what to say, Amy just nodded.
"If you think of it as a marriage, you have a lot of time together, not just one night. Even if the first time isn't perfect, Rika won't love you any less.
You have the rest of your lives to get to know each other's bodies, so don't put so much pressure on yourself, all right?"
"All right." Amy took a freeing breath. Her embarrassment waned, and she squared her shoulders, proud to be having this conversation between adults with her father. "Thank you, Papa."
Papa squeezed her shoulder. "You're welcome." She stood and brushed a few stalks of grass from her pants. Her flowers in one hand, she rested the other on Amy's shoulder. "Come on. Let's go and bring our loves these flowers before they wilt away."
* * *
