The Complete Oregon Series, page 70
Oh, good gracious. I think I stirred up a hornet’s nest. So the Hamiltons weren’t the perfect family they appeared to be. They were good people, though, and if Nora kept her past a secret, she probably had a reason for it. Rika wanted to take back her careless question about Nora’s accent, but it was too late now.
“I didn’t have the happiest childhood,” Nora said, and again Rika sensed that it was the truth—but only half of it. She told the same kind of half-truths when asked about her own childhood. “And I haven’t seen or heard from any Macauley for seventeen years, so...” Nora shrugged.
“Macauley,” Rika repeated. How many wealthy people with that name lived in Boston? She took in Nora’s red hair and her green eyes, then looked at Amy’s identical coloring. Neither set of green eyes held Mr. Macauley’s cruel expression, but the color was the same. “You’re not related to William Macauley, are you?”
Nora’s gaze jerked toward her. “He’s my father.”
“Father?” Rika shook her head. No, that couldn’t be. William Macauley was too young to have fathered Nora. A sudden thought occurred to her. “Oh! William Senior was your father.” One day, when Rika had complained about their hard-hearted boss, Jo had said he was a saint compared to his father, William Macauley Sr.
“Was?” Emotion colored Nora’s voice, but Rika couldn’t say which one it was—grief? Sorrow? Bitterness?
Rika wanted to squeeze her hand, but she had no right to be so familiar. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I never met him, but I heard that he died about two years ago.”
“Oh, Mama. I’m so sorry.” Nattie reached for her mother’s hand, and Amy wrapped her arm around Nora’s shoulders.
“It’s all right.” Nora returned the soft touches of her daughters. “We weren’t close. I left Boston after a big argument with him, and I never looked back. What happened to the rest of the family, Hendrika?”
I wonder what happened between her and her father. Was he anything like mine? Despite whatever might have happened, she sensed that Nora still cared about her family back East. “I don’t know about your mother, but your oldest brother, William, owns the cotton mill now.” Rika shook her head. Nora’s brother is my former boss. What a coincidence! But then again, the Macauleys own half of Boston.
“We have an uncle in Boston?” Nattie’s eyes shone.
Nora squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. No doubt she didn’t want her daughters to meet any of the Boston Macauleys—and Rika understood why. What she had seen of William Macauley and his brothers made it hard to believe that they were related to the friendly Nora and her daughters. In William Macauley’s cotton mill, Rika had been little more than a slave. Here on the ranch, she was treated like a family member.
“I’m sorry to say this, but he’s not a nice man,” Rika said and caught Nora’s grateful glance. “All he seems to care about is money and power.”
Shadows of the past darted over Nora’s face. “Then he’s truly his father’s son.” She turned to her daughters. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I didn’t want them to be part of your lives. Your father and I swore to be better parents than our own were.”
Nattie exchanged a quick glance with her sister, who stood motionless, the glass of lemonade clamped in her hand. “And you are,” Nattie finally said.
“Mrs. Hamilton? Amy? Nattie?” Hannah’s husband called from the new barn. “We’re hanging the barn door now, just to see if it fits. Do you want to do the honors?”
“Go on,” Nora said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
The Hamilton sisters exchanged a quick glance. Amy pressed her glass of lemonade into Rika’s hands before she hurried to the barn, followed by Nattie.
Rika stared at drops of lemonade spilling over the rim of the glass. “I’m sorry.” She lifted her gaze to meet Nora’s. “If I had known—”
“It’s my own fault, not yours,” Nora said. “Lying to your family is stupid and hurtful for everyone. Those lies will keep you prisoner, because you are so afraid that one day, they’ll find out. With every day, with every lie, the fear becomes stronger.” Her eyes darkened with sorrow.
Nora wasn’t talking about Rika, but the words hit home all the same. Fear had guided Rika all her life—fear of her father, fear of the war, fear of Willem gambling their money away, fear of losing her job, and now fear of being sent away from the Hamilton Ranch. Her life was filled with lies, and Nora was right—the lies didn’t make the fear go away. They just made everything worse. The truth trembled somewhere deep inside her, wanting to be told, but Rika couldn’t.
If she did, she might lose everything, just when she was beginning to feel at home on the ranch.
“Come on,” Nora said. The color returned to her cheeks. “Let’s go watch them hang the door. We might just have a new barn by the time the sun sets.”
The Dalles, Oregon
May 2, 1868
Luke stared into the swirling waters of the Columbia River. A series of foaming rapids and waterfalls accompanied them for miles as they drove their herd of horses upstream. When she had been stationed at Fort Dalles during the Cayuse War, the waterfalls had tumbled fifteen feet until they hit the rest of the water. Now the river carried so much water that the falls were partially submerged and turned into a long line of roaring rapids.
I hope the rivers at home aren’t running so high. Thoughts of her family were with her every mile of the way.
“Boss, look,” Phin shouted and pointed.
Before them, wooden platforms dangled on scaffolds over the falls. Indians leaned over the edge of the platforms and dipped nets on long poles into the foaming river. Downstream, where the river was calmer, fishermen in canoes drove spears into the water.
“They’re fishing for salmon,” Luke shouted over the roaring river.
On the high bluffs to both sides of the river, dozens of lodges had been erected. They were fewer than twenty years ago.
The fort was gone now too. Only a few abandoned buildings remained. The town that had grown around the fort was bustling, though.
When Luke’s herd crowded into town, people jumped back from the busy main street.
A big sign hanging from one of the false fronts caught Luke’s attention. BATHS, the sign declared in capital letters. Her skin itched in reaction. She hadn’t bathed in almost two weeks.
At home, bathing wasn’t a problem. Every Saturday night, Luke dragged a tin tub into one corner of the kitchen and filled it with hot water. Nora hung a sheet from the rafters, and then it was bathing time. Luke always bathed last—“Because Papa is the dirtiest,” Nora said. The girls never questioned it. When the girls were little, Nora had put them to bed right after their own baths, and now they knew that every person should be given privacy while in the tub.
Her ranch hands had no such restraint. Bathing with them anywhere near her was too dangerous.
Later. She urged Dancer on and drove one of the geldings away from a lovingly tended garden, stopping him from making a meal of some woman’s first spring flowers. “Keep them away from the gardens, boys,” she called. She had no money to pay for trampled flower beds and vegetable patches.
They drove the herd toward the livery stable, and Luke dismounted to negotiate with the stable owner. With hordes of miners in town, she wanted to hurry before all the baths were reserved for the night.
Luke slung her new saddlebags, full of supplies, over her shoulder and left the dry-goods store. Her boots pounded down the boardwalk as she hurried toward the baths.
A Chinese man carrying a stack of towels opened the door. “We all full,” he told her. “You wait outside.”
While she waited, she took in the busy town and let her gaze wander to the horizon, where white-capped Mount Hood loomed in the distance. The familiar sight made her feel less separated from her family, but at the same time, it increased the longing to be home.
The door to one of the bathing cabins opened, and a man stepped out, twirling his still damp mustache.
Luke waited while the Chinese man disappeared into the cabin with two buckets of steaming water. Her skin prickled in expectation of sinking into the bath. She hoped the cabin had a sturdy bolt so that she could enjoy her bath without worrying about anyone barging in. She would place a chair beneath the door handle, just in case.
After two more trips with the heavy buckets across his shoulders, the Chinese man gave a nod, allowing her to enter.
She rushed forward—and collided with another man who had his eye on the bath.
They stumbled back and stared at each other.
Her bathing rival was a bit older and smaller than she was, with salt-and-pepper hair sticking out beneath a brown hat. A buttoned coat bulged at the right hip, indicating that the stranger was armed.
Then Luke’s gaze traveled upward and found another bulge. Two bulges, to be exact. She blinked. He...she’s a woman? She forgot about her bath as she stared at the stranger. Years ago, Tess had told her she knew others like her, but Luke had never met another woman who lived her life as a man. Was the stranger living in disguise? If she was, she needed a few lessons. She should at least wrap her chest and cut her hair shorter.
“Go ahead,” the stranger said. Her voice wasn’t that of a man, and she didn’t try to make it sound deeper. “I think you were here first.” She swept her hand at the bathing cabin.
Luke hesitated. She desperately wanted a bath, but decades of living as a man left her little choice. Nora sometimes teased her about her gentlemanly manners and warned her that one day, a damsel in distress would be her downfall. “After you, ma’am,” she said and held her breath, waiting for the stranger’s reaction to being called “ma’am.”
When the stranger smiled, her features softened, and there was no longer any doubt in Luke’s mind. She was dealing with a woman.
“It’s not often that I get treated like a lady,” the woman said. Her tone revealed that she didn’t care. Steely brown eyes told Luke that the stranger could take care of herself. Still, a hint of vulnerability remained around her mouth.
Luke could imagine how hard her life might be. The stranger wasn’t welcome in saloons or as the owner of a business, because she was not a man and didn’t try to pass as one. But looking like this, she also wasn’t asked to participate in needle circles or attend the women’s Bible study. She would never fit in, never be respected by anyone, have no family and no friends.
Lord, I couldn’t live like that. While she had been a loner in the past, now she would rather die than live without her family. Keeping her true gender secret and lying to her daughters was the price she had to pay.
“Frankie?” A woman waved at the stranger next to Luke. She stepped down from the boardwalk and opened her parasol before she crossed the street.
Seems I was wrong about her not having any friends. Luke watched the woman approach. Even from this distance, her clothes and movements revealed a lady of some standing. How had she come to be friends with the unusual Frankie?
Luke took in the lady’s lithe body and golden hair that held a few silver streaks. Blue eyes looked back at her with gentle interest—and then widened. The parasol fell out of the woman’s hand. “L-Luke? Is that you?”
Luke blinked. “Tess?”
Soft arms wrapped around her in a stranglehold.
“Tess,” Luke murmured into the ear of the only friend she’d had for many years.
Finally, Tess moved back an inch and brushed her lips against Luke’s, saying hello in her usual way as if seventeen days, not seventeen years, had passed since they had last seen each other.
“I can’t believe it,” Luke said. A part of her had thought she would never see Tess again. They had exchanged many letters over the years, but she couldn’t entrust her secrets to a piece of paper. “What are you doing here? Last I heard you were in Montana with that partner of yours, Frank.”
“Oh, we were. But when Frankie got sent to Oregon, we decided to pay you a visit. I didn’t mention it in my last letter, because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone in case Frankie’s job took longer than expected. We sent off a letter to you yesterday, but we might make it to the ranch before the letter.” Tess’s gaze traveled to something or someone behind Luke. A smile formed on her full lips.
Luke turned.
The woman in men’s clothes watched them, her head cocked to one side.
Oh. Realization dawned, and Luke found herself staring. That’s Frank? Frankie? Tess’s companion, the person who shares her life, is a woman? So Tess was equally reluctant to entrust her secrets to a letter that might fall into the wrong hands.
“We have some catching up to do,” Tess said. “Are you staying in town for a few days? Is Nora here too?” She looked around for her old friend.
“No,” Luke said. Nora’s absence was like a constant nagging ache. She longed to wrap her arms around Nora and feel the confusing whirl of emotions inside her calm. “Nora is at home, taking care of the ranch, while I’m driving a herd of horses to Fort Boise. I’m just staying in The Dalles until first light tomorrow morning.”
Tess rested her hand in the bend of Luke’s arm. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll have all the time in the world to talk when you get back. We’re staying a few weeks if that’s all right with you and Nora. We’re even thinking about settling down in Oregon.”
“Really?” Luke clutched the hand on her arm, grinning broadly. The thought of her old friend living nearby wiped away her exhaustion.
“We haven’t made a final decision yet. Frankie has some things to wrap up in town, and then we’ll travel west to visit your family. I’m eager to meet Amy and Nattie.”
Another heavy weight dropped from Luke’s shoulders. Tess could make sure Nora and the girls were all right.
“Boss?” Phin called from across the street. He stopped in front of them and stared at Frankie and Tess with a less than welcoming expression.
Luke’s relief waned. Concern stirred in her belly. If her ranch hands saw her with a woman who dressed like a man, they might get a few ideas about her too. Things they had never questioned before would begin to make sense when they compared her to Frankie.
But Phin wasn’t looking at Frankie. His gaze was fixed on Tess. “I don’t want to interrupt, but...”
“It’s all right,” Luke said. “This is an old friend of mine, Tess Swenson.”
“I’m not that old.” Tess gave them a wink.
True. The years had been kind to Tess. She was still a beautiful woman. Only a few wrinkles around her mouth and eyes told the story of her hard life. “This is Phineas Sharpe, my foreman.”
After some hesitation, Phin tipped his hat and then turned to Luke. “The livery stable’s hay looks moldy to me. I’m not sure we can feed it to the horses. Can you come take a look?”
“Now?”
When Phin nodded, Luke turned a regretful glance at Tess.
“We’re staying at the hotel across the street.” Tess pointed. “Come over and have supper with us when you’re done. Just ask for Tess Swenson and her cousin.”
Cousin? Luke almost snorted. But she knew Frankie and Tess didn’t have a choice. If they told people they were sweethearts, they’d be run out of town within seconds. At least Luke had spared Nora that kind of hiding when she had decided to keep living as a man.
She followed Phin to the livery stable, her mind still reeling with the sudden reunion. One look at the hay had her glaring at him. “That hay is perfectly fine. Not even a hint of mold, and you knew that.”
“I wanted to make sure—”
“Nonsense,” Luke said. “I taught you better than that. You never needed me before to decide if the hay is safe for the horses. Why now?”
He shuffled his feet. For a moment, he seemed like the awkward adolescent he had been when he had first come to the ranch.
“I get a feeling you wanted to drag me away from my friend.” Old feelings of protectiveness resurfaced. She never allowed others to treat Tess like anything but a lady. But Phin didn’t know about Tess’s past. To anyone looking at her now, she would appear like a wealthy lady with a strange taste in traveling companions. “What’s going on?”
“Nothin’,” Phin said. “I just wonder...” He hesitated.
“Yes? Come on. Spit it out, boy!” Luke’s patience was running thin. Her time with Tess was short, and she didn’t want to waste it.
He looked up and into her eyes. “I wonder what Mrs. Hamilton would think of you meetin’ your ‘old friend’ at the hotel.”
Why would Nora have anything against me having supper with—oh! Laughter bubbled up when Luke finally understood. “Phin,” she said. “You know me better than that. In all the years of my marriage, I never even looked at another woman.”
“You kissed her,” he said, a silent accusation in his voice.
His defense of her marriage and of Nora’s feelings warmed her heart, but at the same time, it annoyed her that he questioned her devotion. Maybe I’ve upheld my manly image a little too well. Now my men think I’m a philanderer. “Tess is an old friend.”
“But she wasn’t always just a friend, was she?”
Impatient to end this line of conversation, Luke wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but she stopped herself. Phin was more than just a ranch hand. He was a part of her family. “That ended decades ago. Now we’re nothing more than friends. Nora knows that. She has never doubted my faithfulness, and neither should you.”
Phin rubbed his blond stubble that made him look like one of the Vikings from Nattie’s books. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anythin’. I just never saw you actin’ so familiar with a woman other than Mrs. Hamilton. Guess I felt like a son meetin’ his father’s mistress.”
“Tess is not my mistress, and I’m too young to be your father.” Luke gave him a playful slap on the shoulder.
