Free Hidden Truths by Jae

is a far cry from Boston."
    She's testing me. Rika clamped her hand around the
fork. "It sure is," she said as evenly as she could. "And I'm
looking forward to it."
    "But if you are to marry a ranch hand, are you sure you
won't come to resent him if you have to live without all the amenities in
Boston?" Nattie's brow knitted, but her eyes shone. "I hear they even
have gas streetlamps in Boston."
    Rika took a bite of chicken and nodded. "Yes, but that
doesn't mean life in Boston is easy. The gas lighting is also used in the
cotton mill, making it possible to work until late into the night. Believe me,
I'm no stranger to hard work."
    "What's gotten into you, Nattie?" Nora shook her
head at her daughter. "Stop questioning the poor girl like that. I'm sure
she'll make a wonderful wife for Phin." When Nattie lowered her gaze, Nora
turned to Rika. "You said in your letters you were born in Holland?"
    Rika's throat constricted and made the chicken hard to
swallow. Oh, gracious. She read Jo's letters... and I didn't. Rika knew
only Phineas's end of the conversation, not what Jo had told him about herself.
Her appetite was gone, but she shoved another piece of chicken into her mouth
to indicate that she was too busy to give long answers. Again, she just nodded.
    "What's Holland like?" Nattie asked, friendlier
this time. "Does it look a little like Oregon?"
    Jo would know. Unlike Rika, Jo's family had sailed to
America when she was ten, so she remembered Holland well. Rika's home, however,
had always been Boston.
    Her father rarely talked about the past. Only sometimes,
when he was sober, had he told her stories about her mother and about their
home in Holland. Rika tried to remember but was distracted when she found she
couldn't recall her mother's face. The only picture of her mother had stayed
behind when Rika had left her family.
    Curious gazes rested on her, and Rika pulled herself
together. "It's not like Oregon at all. It's a flat land, with almost no
hills." Her mind flashed back to snowcapped Mount Hood, which Amy had
pointed out on the way to the ranch. Rika's parents had grown up without ever
laying eyes on such a mountain. "There's water everywhere — rivers,
canals, lakes, and the North Sea. Windmills pump water out of the polders that
keep the land from flooding."
    Rika remembered the drawing in their parlor. Her mother had
penciled in an endless sky, rippling water, and numerous green windmills
dotting the landscape.
    "You miss it," Amy said from the other side of the
table. It was the first time during supper that she addressed Rika directly.
    How can I miss what I don't even remember?
    She looked at Amy, who glanced at her plate. "It was a
long time ago. I'm sure I will feel right at home here."

Hamilton Horse Ranch
Baker Prairie, Oregon
April 20, 1868
    " W HOO,
HOO-HOO, hooo." The owl's call greeted Amy when she stepped onto the
veranda. She peered into the darkness but couldn't make out the bird. It was
probably perched on a branch somewhere, waiting to swoop down on unsuspecting
prey. Amy knew it was the male, because she had observed them many times. Owls
mated for life. Now he was out hunting food for the female, who sat on eggs in
their nest.
    Kind of like Papa, she thought with a smile. Unlike
the lady owl, the Hamilton women weren't just sitting around, waiting for him
to get back, though. Amy had a ranch to run, and the responsibility of it kept
her up at night. She held out her hand and felt soft drizzle touch her
fingertips. If the rain keeps up, I'll have to bring in the herd from the
east pasture. And someone needs to check on the yearlings.
    With Kit, Charlie, and Phin gone, they were short on ranch
hands. She had to time all the different tasks just right to make sure
everything got done. Worry gnawed at her. Papa had taught her well, but would
the ranch hands think so too? Hank and Toby would probably go along with her
orders, if only out of respect for Papa. But what about Adam? Whenever Papa
handed