The complete oregon seri.., p.74
The Complete Oregon Series, page 74
“It does.” Amy smiled.
Nattie clapped her hands, making Dotty nudge her foal away from them. “Oh, finally—a filly with a meaningful name.”
“Come on, girls.” Nora ushered them away from the stall. “Let’s get breakfast on the table.”
Willow Creek, Oregon
May 10, 1868
Luke led the first horse of her string into the creek. “Come on, Midnight. Not very far now, then you’ll get some grass and rest.” After saying good-bye to Tess, she was even more eager than before to make it to the fort and back home, but she knew the horses and men needed some rest. By the time they had herded the last horse through the creek, they were mud-spattered, tired, and hungry. “All right. Let’s make camp here and—”
The sound of hoofbeats interrupted her, and she reached for her rifle. A silent signal brought Charlie and Phin to her side. Weapons raised, they waited for whoever was approaching.
The first horse appeared on top of the hill.
Luke lowered her rifle. The rider’s blue uniform was familiar. She had worn the same uniform many years ago.
Behind the first rider, a dozen more soldiers reined in their horses. Two of them urged their horses down the hill while the others stayed back. A quick glance at the insignia on their uniforms showed that the young lieutenant was in charge. “Good day,” he said. “Lieutenant Moylan with the Eighth Cavalry.”
Luke tipped her hat. “Luke Hamilton from the Willamette Valley. We’re bringing a herd of horses to Fort Boise. What brings you to Willow Creek? You haven’t been sent out to escort us, have you?”
“Afraid not,” the young officer answered. “We’re searching for a band of Indians who have stolen stock and killed one of our men. Have you had any trouble with Indians?”
Dancer shifted beneath Luke, sensing her tension.
“No,” Luke said as calmly as possible. “All of our horses are accounted for.”
“So you haven’t seen any signs of Indians in the mountains?” the lieutenant asked.
Next to Luke, Charlie cleared his throat but said nothing.
“None,” Luke answered. “Maybe your thieves joined the bands at the Owyhee River. The mountains aren’t very hospitable this time of year.”
Lieutenant Moylan nodded, but the bearded sergeant next to him still stared at her. Had he guessed that she was lying? Only long years of practice kept her mask of casual indifference in place.
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” the sergeant asked.
Every muscle in Luke’s body stiffened. Nora and she had feared that question for years. She stared at the man, trying to see more of his features beneath his thick beard. He looked familiar.
“Hamilton...” The sergeant studied her. “You aren’t the Luke Hamilton who fought in Mexico, are you?”
The tension fled from Luke’s frame. She pictured the sergeant’s face twenty years younger, and a name finally came to her. “Pete Johnson?”
The sergeant beamed. “Yes. Lieutenant, this man saved my hide more than once in the Mexican War.” He looked at his superior. “Maybe we could return the favor and accompany him and his men safely to Fort Boise. The Injun thieves are long gone anyway.”
Lieutenant Moylan hesitated but then nodded. “All right. At least our mission won’t be a total failure. I know the colonel is waiting for these horses.”
Oh, wonderful. That’s what I get for being a war hero. Now instead of just two men, twelve soldiers would be watching her every move. Finding a quiet place behind a bush to relieve herself was going to be a challenge.
“Darn, boss, I didn’t know you fought in the Mexican War,” Charlie said as they set up camp. “You always said you didn’t want to fight in a war that was not your own.”
Luke shrugged. “I was young and naive.” The war had been the perfect way to join the dragoons without being subjected to careful scrutiny by an army doctor. She had qualified just by being able to ride and shoot. Back then, she had desperately needed the order and discipline the dragoons brought to her life.
“I knew you were a dragoon in the Mexican War,” Phin said. “Nattie told me. But I didn’t know you were such a good liar.” He lowered his voice so that none of the soldiers would hear.
Luke gave him a wry smile. If only you knew.
“Yeah,” Charlie agreed. “You almost convinced me that we never met any Indians. But why lie? Why cover for the red bastards who took our horses?”
“Easy, Charlie.” She sent him a warning glance. “I didn’t like them stealing our horses any more than you, but they weren’t out for a fight, so I doubt these are the Indians who killed the soldier. The lieutenant won’t care, though. He’s out to find some Indians and kill them. He won’t care that it’s just one warrior with an old man and two women. I don’t want to be responsible for their deaths.” She pinned Charlie with her gaze until he looked away. “All right. Let’s set up camp.”
As soon as the young lieutenant retreated into his tent, a pack of cards appeared from one of the saddlebags and a bottle of whiskey circulated among the soldiers.
Charlie held out his tin cup too.
Luke didn’t stop him. One drink wouldn’t matter, and she hoped he had the good sense to refuse more. When a soldier passed her the bottle, she handed it to the man next to her, though. She watched them start a game of cards but didn’t join in.
Years ago, she would have joined her companions in a card game and laughed at their bawdy jokes, just to fit in. That kind of entertainment didn’t hold much interest for her anymore.
In the past, she had lived her life as a man among other men and had lost touch with her female side. But over the last seventeen years, she had shared her home with three women, and it had changed her. She could still fit in with the men but no longer aimed to be like them in every way. Now she just wanted to be herself, whatever that was.
“You all right, boss?” Phin asked from across the fire. He had refused the soldiers’ whiskey too.
“Yeah,” she said. “Just thinking.”
“Hm, me too.” Phin came around the fire and sat next to her. “I wonder how things are goin’ at home.”
Luke constantly wondered the same thing. “Well, if your betrothed is even halfway helpful, I think Nora might have gone back to teaching by now.”
“How can you know that?”
“I know my wife,” she said. Nora was a practical woman, and if money got tight, she would leave the chores at the ranch to Nattie and Phin’s bride and would return to her teaching duties.
“Do you think Johanna can handle life on a ranch?” In the firelight, Luke saw the concern in his eyes.
A grin made its way onto her lips when she remembered Nora’s early attempts at building a fire or baking bread. “She’ll have to learn. Don’t worry. Even if Nora is back in the classroom, Amy and Nattie will teach her what she needs to know.”
“Amy givin’ my future wife lessons in how a ranch wife should behave...” Phin laughed. “Now that’s a scary thought.”
Sharp words hovered on Luke’s tongue, but she swallowed them. Phin hadn’t meant to criticize Amy. Still, it was true that Amy wasn’t the kind of woman most men would want as a role model for their wife. Sometimes, Luke wondered if their upbringing would condemn her daughters, especially Amy, to a life of loneliness.
Phin broke a twig into little pieces.
“If you’re so worried about Johanna, why did you propose to a woman you don’t even know?” Luke asked. “Why not court one of the neighbor girls, someone who grew up on a ranch?”
“Ah.” Phin threw the twig into the fire. “They’re silly gooses.”
“All of them? There’s not even one woman you like in the whole valley?”
Phin licked his lips.
“So there is someone you like.” Grinning, she hit his shoulder. “Why not propose to her?”
“I’m not right for her.” Phin stared into the fire. “I can’t offer her what she deserves.”
“I thought the same when I first met Nora,” Luke said.
Phin still gazed into the flames. “That’s different.”
You’ve got no idea just how different it is.
“Want me to check on the horses?” Phin asked.
Luke got up. “No. I’ll go.” She needed to find a hidden spot to relieve her screaming bladder anyway.
Protected by the darkness and the sharp ears of the horses grazing nearby, she ducked behind a shrub of sagebrush and relieved herself. When she pulled up her pants and buttoned them, a horse snorted.
Luke peeked through the branches of the shrub while she closed the last button and rearranged the padding in her pants.
Two soldiers headed toward the latrine, one of them carrying a shovel. “The lieutenant shouldn’t have agreed with Johnson,” the taller man said. “Now we’re stuck babysitting a bunch of horse breeders instead of finding the damn Injuns who killed Roy.”
“Ah, Moylan is a green officer who hasn’t seen any action yet. Every howl of a coyote out here makes him jump.” He spat out and hit the sagebrush Luke was hiding behind. “He was just waiting for a reason to return to the fort.”
“Maybe we should give him a reason not to return to the fort,” the other soldier said.
“How?”
His friend chuckled. “If we drive off a few of Hamilton’s horses and tell the lieutenant they were stolen by Indians...”
Heat shot through Luke. No one would use her horses for such a plan. The worn grip of her revolver felt soothing against her palm as she drew the weapon. With a resounding click, she cocked the hammer and stepped out of her hiding place. She smashed her boot onto a few branches.
The two soldiers whirled around.
“If even one of my horses goes missing, I’ll shoot the two of you,” she said.
“You wouldn’t dare,” the taller man said. “Our comrades would lynch you.”
Luke just smiled at him. She had learned that it unnerved most men more than shouting ever could. “Oh, only if they think it was me who killed you. I’ll tell your lieutenant you were killed by the same Indians who stole the horses you drove off.”
In the silence of the night, the smaller man gulped audibly. “We were just joking about driving off your horses, really.”
“I don’t like your brand of humor, Private.”
“It’s not our problem if you don’t have a sense of humor,” the taller soldier said.
Luke stared him down, knowing he was the instigator. “Then make sure it doesn’t become your problem. If all my horses make it safely to Fort Boise, we’ll part as friends. If not, you won’t be there to regret it.”
The two soldiers stared at her. In the near darkness, she couldn’t make out their expressions, but she still didn’t look away.
“All right,” the tall soldier finally said. “We’ll leave the horses alone.” He strode off in the direction of the latrine, and his friend followed.
Luke put her revolver away and stared into the darkness. Great. Instead of enjoying the safety of a cavalry escort, she’d have to sleep with one eye open. She adjusted her pants and walked back to the camp to let Phin and Charlie know.
Hamilton Horse Ranch
Baker Prairie, Oregon
May 14, 1868
Amy heaved her saddle onto her shoulder and carried it out of the stable. When she placed it on Ruby’s back, she noticed Hendrika standing in front of the corral where they kept Nugget, Dotty, and the two foals. Her arms rested on the top rail, and her chin leaned on her hands. She stared at the horses as intently as if she had forgotten that anything else existed.
She’s really fond of Lucky. And it wasn’t just the filly. Hendrika visited Cinnamon every night before bedtime, and the way Ruby nickered when she saw her coming made Amy think even the bossy mare had gotten an apple or two from her.
She’ll make a good wife for a horseman like Phin. The thought should have been a joyful one since Phin was her friend, but somehow it wasn’t.
“Hey,” she said. “How’s Lucky doing?”
Hendrika whirled around. “Oh. I didn’t hear you come up.”
“Mama calls it the ‘horse trance.’ She often has to drag Papa and me from the stable when we forget about supper.” Thinking of Papa made a ball of worry form in her belly. How was he doing, out there on the trail? She leaned against the corral rail next to Hendrika and watched the foals.
Jason, Nugget’s golden colt, chased Lucky around the corral. Lucky leaped and bucked. After a while, she trotted to her mother to rest.
“Wanna go in and say hello?” Amy asked, then instantly rebuked herself. What are you doing? You’ve got work to do. But despite her best intentions, she couldn’t resist spending a little more time with Hendrika.
“Could we?” Hendrika looked at her with a hopeful glance. “Will Dotty and Nugget let us in there?”
“Sure. We always handle the foals from a very young age, get them used to people before they’re turned out with the herd.” Amy opened the gate and slipped through, then closed it behind them.
Instantly, Nugget’s colt bolted to the other end of the corral. Lucky peeked out from behind her mother.
“Dotty,” Amy called and made a clicking sound with her tongue.
Dotty lifted her head. When Amy clicked again, she loped toward them. The filly followed.
“Hey there, Dotty. I brought a guest to admire your daughter.” Amy turned to Hendrika. “Come here and pat Dotty. It’ll show the little one that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Hendrika reached out a hand and let the mare sniff it, exactly as Amy had shown her weeks ago. She slid her hand down the long neck to scratch behind Dotty’s withers.
A little nose appeared from behind Dotty. Lucky pranced forward to see what was going on.
Hendrika held out her hand, palm up. She didn’t try to touch the filly or get any closer; she just stood and waited, barely breathing.
Amy’s breath caught too. Watching these two look at each other seemed like an endless, magical moment.
Finally, Lucky took one step forward, then another. Her nose touched Hendrika’s hand, and something, probably the tickling of little whiskers, made Hendrika smile.
Jason, the palomino colt, followed his mother and trotted over.
“Oh, now you are being brave after a girl showed you how it’s done,” Amy murmured while she rubbed his withers.
Hendrika chuckled. “It seems your family has a history of breeding strong females.”
For the first time, someone from outside the family had commented on how different the Hamilton women were—and made it sound like a compliment, not something to wrinkle her nose at.
Amy smiled. “I guess we do.” She gave the colt one last scratch. “Come on. I need to ride out before it gets dark.”
“Where are you going?” Hendrika asked as they walked to the gate.
“I need to check on the other foals, the ones who have already been turned out with the herd.”
When Amy turned to close the gate, she saw the longing in Hendrika’s eyes. The other woman remained silent, however. Hendrika had never again asked to ride with her since the fiasco shortly after her arrival on the ranch. But four weeks had passed since then, and Hendrika was more used to horses and how they reacted now. Nattie and Mama had taken her riding a few times.
Amy hesitated. Another glance into Hendrika’s eyes made the decision. “If you’re done with your chores, you could come with me.”
“I don’t want to be in the way,” Hendrika said.
“You won’t.” With no wild mustangs around anymore, she should be safe. “Just promise me that you’ll get off the horse and stay out of the way should something unexpected happen.”
“You won’t even know I’m there,” Hendrika said.
I seriously doubt that. Amy was always much too aware of Hendrika’s presence, but that was her problem. She couldn’t make Hendrika feel unwelcome just because she was having those feelings. “Come on,” she said. “You can help me saddle the horses.”
Ten minutes later, Amy cursed herself. Brilliant idea. Why didn’t I just saddle the horses and let her watch?
Now Hendrika wanted personal instructions every step of the way. “Like this?” she asked and rubbed the brush over Cinnamon’s back.
Her eagerness to learn and to help was hard to resist.
“Longer strokes,” Amy said. “Put some muscle into it. You won’t hurt him.” She stepped closer and reached around Hendrika to take over the brush. Her body pressed against Hendrika’s on every brush stroke, making Amy sweat. “See?” Her voice trembled, and she hoped Hendrika wouldn’t notice.
“Yes.” Hendrika reached for the brush, and their fingers touched.
Amy pulled back. When she couldn’t stand watching the slender fingers slide over Cinnamon’s coat anymore, she pointed to the saddle hanging over the top rail. “Now the blanket and the saddle.”
Hendrika grasped the blanket and placed it on Cinnamon’s back, taking care to slide it back in the direction of the hairs, not against it.
“Who showed you how to do that?”
“Emmett,” Hendrika said while she made sure that the blanket covered Cinnamon’s withers. “He’s nice. All the ranch hands are very nice to me.”
Of course they are! They’re nice to every young, unmarried woman. Amy bit back her comment, though. The boys would be perfect gentlemen. They knew Papa would never stand for anything else. And they respect Phin too much to make unwelcome advances to his betrothed. As Phin’s friend, she should do the same, especially because she was a woman. Admiring another woman that way wasn’t right.
“Do you want me to try saddling him?” Hendrika asked.
Amy nodded. “Go ahead. Grasp the cantle, the part in the back, with your right hand and the base of the fork with your left hand.”
