The Complete Oregon Series, page 96
“What?”
Amy pressed her lips together so tightly that she felt the blood drain from them. She didn’t want to lie, but neither could she tell Nattie the truth. “I’m not ready to talk about it.” She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be.
Head tilted, Nattie stared up at her. Her eyes were dark, and her wet lashes clumped together. “I don’t want to lose you too.”
With one long step, Amy reached her and pulled her into a fierce embrace. “You won’t.”
When Luke’s breathing slowed, indicating that she had finally fallen into a restless sleep, Nora slipped from beneath the tangle of her limbs and got out of bed. Without lighting a lamp, she tiptoed down the hall and opened the first door. “Nattie?”
No answer.
She stepped farther into the room, where a sliver of moonlight showed her that Nattie’s bed was empty.
Her stomach churned. Had Nattie run away? Oh, Lord, please. She peeked into Amy’s room.
That bed, too, was empty.
Without taking the time to dress, she hurried down the stairs.
The front door was open, confirming her fears.
She reached for the screen door but stopped when she saw two people sitting on the veranda’s top step, huddled together in the darkness without a lantern.
“Whatever he’s done, it can’t be as bad as how my old man treated me. Luke’s not like that. He’d never hurt you.”
Nora recognized Phin’s deep voice. His trust in Luke loosened the bands of panic that had tightened around her chest.
“No, but... Oh, Phin, you have no idea.” Nattie’s voice was choked with tears.
Phin wrapped his arms around her. “Tell me what happened.”
Nora tightened her grip on the screen door when she realized Luke’s life was in someone else’s hands. Would Nattie reveal her secret?
Nattie sighed. “I’m not sure I understand it myself.”
“What can I do to help?”
“There’s nothing you can do.” Nattie’s voice was muffled as if she was burying her face against his shoulder. “But you being here, sitting with me, makes me feel better.”
Nora tried to tiptoe back, but as she shifted her weight, the creaking of a board underneath gave her away.
“Boss? Is that you?” Phin hastily let go of Nattie and stood.
“No, it’s me.” Nora stepped onto the veranda, her gaze instantly trying to discern Nattie’s expression in the darkness.
Phin averted his gaze from her nightgown-dressed body. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
After he disappeared into the night, Nora crossed the veranda on bare feet and sat on the top step next to her daughter.
Isaac the owl hooted in a pine tree behind the house.
For the first time in her life, Nora didn’t know how to talk to Nattie, what to say to make everything all right.
“You’re in your nightgown, Mama,” Nattie said.
Nora tugged the thin fabric over her ankles. Unlike her, Nattie was fully dressed. Had she wanted to run away? “I couldn’t sleep, and I worried when I found your bed empty. You weren’t about to just up and leave, were you?”
“What? No. Amy’s the one who runs when she’s scared, not me.”
Another knot of worry lodged in Nora’s throat. Where was Amy?
“She’s in the hayloft,” Nattie said as if sensing her thoughts.
The knot in Nora’s throat loosened. At least Amy hadn’t gone far. “Have you talked to her?”
“A bit. But she’s not ready to talk.”
Again, silence fell between them.
“Do you think my father was a good man?” Nattie didn’t look at her but stared straight ahead into the night, her arms wrapped tightly around her pulled-up knees.
“Your father is upstairs in the bedroom, and yes, she’s a good person.”
“Mama...”
“I know what you’re asking, but I don’t have an answer. I don’t know who fathered you.” She placed her hand on Nattie’s cheek and guided her around to face her. “It doesn’t matter. You’re your own, wonderful person.”
Nattie trembled beneath her hand. “But I don’t look like you and Amy, and I’m not Papa’s...Luke’s daughter either. I don’t resemble any of you.”
“That’s not true. You’re so much like I was at your age that it sometimes takes my breath away. And you have that little bump,” she tapped Nattie on the nose, “just like Luke does. You were so proud of that when you were little. Luke influenced you so much more than the man whose blood you share ever could. She taught you how to ride, where to find the juiciest strawberries, and how to be a good human being. You have always loved her so much, and it breaks my heart to think that it might change now.” Tears burned in Nora’s eyes, and when she blinked, they spilled over and ran in hot trails down her cheeks.
“It won’t,” Nattie whispered as if afraid to say it aloud. “I still love him...her, but I’m so confused. I thought you and Papa met and fell in love and then had Amy and me. But now everything is different.”
“Not everything,” Nora said. “We still love each other, and we love you.”
“But doesn’t love include trust? In all those years, you never once considered telling us?”
“We thought about it a thousand times. Not telling you had nothing to do with lack of trust. We were afraid that you might not be able to accept it...to accept Luke...and our love.”
Nattie rubbed the bump on the bridge of her nose, a gesture that reminded Nora so much of Luke that her heart hurt. “Well, finding out you lied to us all these years sure doesn’t help me accept the situation. You were in my shoes once. Weren’t you terribly angry with Papa...at...her when you found out she’d deceived you?”
It was hard to remember herself as the young woman who had been so scared to love again. “I wasn’t just angry. I was devastated. I thought my plans of a happy family life were ruined.”
“But they weren’t?”
It hurt that Nattie needed to ask, but Nora understood. After discovering such a fundamental lie, Nattie wouldn’t take anything for granted anymore. At least not for a while. “I can’t imagine loving anyone—man or woman—more than I love Luke.” Nora trailed her fingers through Nattie’s shiny black hair. “Luke and I, we did things a little backward, and we’re a pretty unlikely pair, but that doesn’t mean our love is any less than you thought. It doesn’t mean you are any less. Luke chose to be your parent because she loves you. Do you understand that?”
When Nattie turned toward her, her knees pressed against Nora’s thigh. She sniffled and then nodded. “I think I do.”
Rika stepped out of the cabin. Moonlight filtered through the shadows on the veranda. Was there someone sitting on the steps leading up to the main house? Amy? She quickly crossed the ranch yard.
“Amy?” Nora’s voice cut through the darkness.
Rika lifted her lantern so that Nora could see her face. “No, it’s me, Hendrika.” When she came closer, the circle of light illuminated Nora and Nattie huddling close on the top step. “Everything all right?”
“Yes,” Nora said, but it didn’t sound convincing. “Nattie, you best go to bed. I’ll look for Amy.”
Nattie stood and dusted off her skirt. “Give her some time, Mama. You know Amy. If you climb up in that hayloft now, you’ll only chase her away.”
After some hesitation, Nora agreed. She said goodnight and followed Nattie into the house.
Rika stared after them. Should she go to bed too and give Amy some time alone, as Nattie had suggested? But she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Maybe Amy would have an easier time talking to someone who wasn’t part of the family. She walked to the hay barn, opened the big doors, and listened.
Hay rustled.
“Amy?”
Silence.
“Amy? If you’re there, please answer me. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” Amy’s voice came from the hayloft. “Go to bed.”
Rika left the lantern on a hook, groped for the ladder, and climbed through the hay door. With her arm in a sling, she struggled, but the thought of Amy alone and hurting urged her onward.
“What are you doing? You’ll hurt your shoulder!” Amy hurried over and helped her into the hayloft.
“I just want to make sure you’re all right,” Rika said.
Amy didn’t answer, didn’t tell her she was fine. She sank into a pile of hay, wrapped her arms around her legs, and pressed her forehead to her knees.
“What’s going on?” Rika walked over, knelt, and touched her shoulder. The muscles under her hand were stiff. “What happened with your parents?”
“I can’t tell you. I want to, but I just... I can’t.” Amy let go of her legs and flopped into the hay.
Not a lot of things had the power to upset Amy like this. For Amy, only her family, the ranch, and the horses mattered. Rika stretched out in the hay next to her. Their arms touched, but Rika didn’t move away. “Your father,” she said and took a wild guess, “he’s not your father, is he?”
Amy scrambled upright.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Half right,” Amy mumbled. She slung her arms around her knees again and rocked back and forth as if to soothe herself. “How did you know?”
“You asked him if Nora is even your mother. I know you love your parents, and you’d never ask something like that if you hadn’t just received shocking news.”
Amy blew air through her nose. “You have no idea.”
“You know what I would say if someone told me that my father isn’t really my father?” Rika didn’t wait for an answer. “I’d say, ‘Oh thank the Lord!’”
“That’s different,” Amy said.
“I know. Your father...Luke, he’s a good man and a good father.”
“No.”
“No? Don’t be stupid, Amy. You have two parents who love you. Don’t you know how precious that is? What difference does it make if he’s your father by blood or by choice?”
Hay rustled when Amy lifted up on her knees and loomed over her. “You don’t understand.” Her voice rose to a growl. “He’s not my father. He’s not even...”
“Not even what?”
But Amy didn’t answer. She dropped back into the hay and pressed her hand against her mouth as if she was sorry she had said anything.
What could be wrong with Luke to throw Amy in such a tumult? Rika pictured Luke: tall, with the wiry strength of someone who had worked hard his whole life. He didn’t have her own father’s heavy build, though. His gentleness was so much like Amy’s, not because they were related, but because they were both—
She sucked in a breath. “He’s a woman.”
Amy said nothing. Her silence spoke volumes.
“It’s true? Are you sure?”
“Who would make up something so crazy?” Amy mumbled.
Rika rubbed her forehead, but it didn’t help her think more clearly. What on God’s green earth was going on? She thought of the dying soldier who had confessed her true identity to her. Was Luke like that?
No. The soldier had dressed as a man to follow her betrothed into battle, but Luke loved Nora. Even if everything else was a disguise, that part was true. Amy’s parents were two women who loved each other. Lord. How many of them are there? Are there really so many women couples, and I just never knew about it? Maybe it should have been a shock, but for some reason, it wasn’t. When Rika looked at Amy, she understood why Luke preferred life with Nora to life with a husband.
“Nothing makes sense anymore.” Amy lay back and threw her arm across her eyes, shutting out the world. “And at the same time, a lot of little details make sense now. Why they taught us to always knock on their bedroom door. Why Papa...Luke never went to see Dr. Tolridge, no matter how sick he...she was.”
“Come here.” Rika wrestled her right arm out of its sling, lay next to Amy, and opened her arms.
Amy didn’t resist. She melted against Rika, resting against her uninjured shoulder as if they had lain that way a thousand times.
Carefully, Rika lowered her sore arm and clutched Amy to her body. Hot skin pressed against her own, and she nearly groaned. She trailed the fingers of her left hand through Amy’s locks and down her back, feeling the smooth skin beneath the shirt. For an instant, she imagined continuing on and letting her fingers wander down Amy’s buttocks. She shook herself. Stop that. You can’t have such thoughts. And especially not now. “Did they tell you who your father, the man who fathered you, is?”
“Some man in Boston,” Amy said. “Well, at least I wasn’t fathered by a stranger in a brothel.”
“What? A brothel? Where’s this coming from?”
“Mama...she...” A tear splashed onto Rika’s skin. Amy wiped it away, her hand lingering on Rika’s collarbone.
Rika cleared her throat. Twice. “What about your mother?”
“She worked in a brothel after I was born. She doesn’t know who Nattie’s father is.”
Despite Amy’s heat against her, Rika’s body went cold. She pulled Amy closer. “That’s horrible.”
“Why did this have to happen?” Amy whispered. She buried her face against Rika’s neck.
Rika’s head swam with sensation, but she forced herself to focus on Amy’s words, not her body. This was serious. Amy needed her. “Would you rather they never said a word? Keeping so many secrets all of these years...” She shook her head. “That must have been so hard on them.”
Amy lifted her head. “On them?”
“You don’t honestly think they were out to hurt you? Whatever they did, they did for you and Nattie. Your mother didn’t have a choice. You don’t understand how it is to be all alone in the world. For all your strength, you’re so innocent.”
“I’m not innocent.” Amy’s voice rumbled against Rika’s skin.
Rika swirled a handful of Amy’s hair between her fingers and smiled. “Oh, yes, you are.” It was part of her appeal. “You have a kind heart, and you help any creature who needs you. But back East, in Boston, things are not like that. I saw children with dirty faces and hollow cheeks on the street every day. Once, I gave a loaf of bread to a little boy who was clutching his stomach because he was so hungry. My father got so angry...” She closed her eyes. “He broke my wrist.”
“Oh, Rika.” Amy trailed her fingers along Rika’s right arm and cradled her wrist.
It was the wrong arm, but Rika didn’t mind. The touch was soothing. “Between starving and doing whatever it took to keep herself and you alive, your mother didn’t have a choice. It doesn’t make her a bad person.”
“I know. It’s just... They should have told us sooner,” Amy said.
“They were afraid of losing your love.” A ball of emotions lodged in her throat, making it hard to continue. She kept her own secret for the same reason. “Did they?”
When Amy cuddled closer, a few strands of her hair tickled Rika’s skin, making her shiver.
“Did they what?” Amy asked.
“Lose your love.”
Amy gave no answer. Maybe she didn’t have one. She laid her face against Rika’s neck, and Rika cradled her head. Once, she had lain that way with Jo during a long night when her coughing wouldn’t stop, but holding Amy was different. The feeling in her belly wasn’t just the protectiveness of a friend. It was fiercer, but at the same time gentler than what she had experienced before. Is this what love feels like?
She gave a shake of her head, nearly displacing Amy from her comfortable spot. You didn’t love Willem and you don’t love Phin, so how could you feel love for Amy, a woman? But when she stroked the red locks, marveling at the vulnerability of this strong woman, she thought, How can anyone not love her?
But, of course, there was no future in thinking like that. Rika had spent a lifetime listening to reason, not feelings, and she couldn’t afford to change that now. “Ready to climb down?”
Amy shook her head. “Stay with me?”
Sleeping in the hayloft when she had a perfectly good bed was crazy, but Rika nodded and pulled Amy closer, basking in her warmth and her company for as long as she could. Monday, her wedding day, would come all too soon.
Phin slung the reins around the brake and walked around the wagon to help Rika up on the seat.
“You going into town again?” Luke asked.
“No,” Phin answered. “Just drivin’ around, lookin’ for some flowers Hendrika can wear to the wedding tomorrow.”
Luke nodded from her place on the veranda.
Her. Rika still found it hard to believe that Amy’s father was a woman. During breakfast, her gaze had returned to Luke again and again, searching for any hint of female curves beneath the shirt and vest. She found none. Luke’s disguise was perfect. Rika wondered how it might feel to live her life constantly hiding and pretending. You’re about to find out.
Phin stepped up to her and put his hands on her hips to lift her onto the wagon.
The calluses on his palms snagged on the linsey-woolsey dress just as Amy’s did, but his touch felt different. It didn’t cause the mix of heat and tenderness.
So what? That feeling isn’t necessary to survive and live a content life. But that old, familiar way of thinking could no longer convince her. Something had changed inside of her. Survival was no longer enough. I don’t want to be just content. I want to be happy. After working hard for months—her whole life, really—she had earned it.
“Wait.” She turned in Phin’s arms.
“What?” He smiled at her. “You changed your mind and don’t want flowers for the wedding?”
Behind her, Old Jack snorted and stamped his hoof, waiting to get going.
