Free Hidden Truths by Jae Page B

Mama," Nattie said before Rika
could answer.
    The offer was polite, but Rika didn't want to be a burden.
"That's nice of you, but I'm sure you have your own chores."
    Nora tilted her head. "Yes, you do, Nattie. If I'm not
back on time, I'll need you to prepare supper. I haven't seen Ruth and Emeline
in ages, and if the pastor comes over to see the baby, I'm sure he'll keep me
there all afternoon, trying to convince me to take over teaching school
again."
    Teach school? Since when did married women teach
school? Rika had gone to school for four years, and no female teacher ever
stayed on after getting married. The West was truly a strange place.
    "You could teach if you wanted," Nattie said. Her
eyes, which seemed to change color, were now a determined gray. "Amy and I
have things at the ranch well in hand. I am not a child anymore, you
know?"
    "We'll see," her mother said.
    *  *  *
    When Rika straightened, her knees groaned and pain exploded
in her back. She dropped the brush into the bucket of water black with soot.
Ashes and lye soap tickled her nose and made her sneeze.
    "One more bucket should do the trick." She used
her elbow and hip to open the door, not wanting to get the soot from her hands
all over the newly cleaned cabin. A soft drizzle still fell outside. Does it
ever stop raining in Oregon? Still, after she had cleaned the cabin all
morning, the cool rain felt refreshing. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she
breathed in the clean air. She drew back her hands and flung the dirty water
into the direction of the hazel bushes next to the cabin.
    "Hell and tarnation!"
    Rika's eyes popped open. Her hand flew to her chest,
covering her pounding heart.
    Instead of seeping into the earth beneath the hazel bushes,
the bucket's contents had hit one of the ranch hands.
    No. Rika shook her head. Not a ranch hand. The voice was
that of a woman. That of —
    She gasped. Amy!
    Drops of black water stained Amy's collarless shirt and ran
down strong legs improperly displayed by gray pants and worn leather chaps. The
now clinging shirt left no doubt that Amy wasn't wearing a corset.
    When Amy swept off her hat to wipe her brow, a mass of red
hair tumbled onto sturdy shoulders. Amy shook herself like a dog with fleas.
"Being around you seems to be hard on my clothes, Miss Bruggeman. What did
you throw at me — a pot of ink?"
    Had something like that happened at home, Rika's father would
have flown into one of his rages, but Amy just grinned.
    "Just some dirty water. I'm cleaning the hearth."
Her heartbeat calmed, but she couldn't stop staring at Amy's strange attire.
Was this some Oregonian tradition she had never heard of? Did local women think
it was perfectly normal to dress in male garb?
    "Amy? What about the east pasture? Should we —"
Two of the ranch hands came around the corner and stopped when they saw Amy.
"What happened to you?"
    "She did." Water dripped off Amy's finger when she
pointed at Rika. "Apparently, Phin's future wife thought the rain wouldn't
make me wet enough."
    "Maybe she thought you needed to be put in your
place," the older of the two men mumbled. His gaze clung to Amy's chest
the same way that her wet shirt did.
    Fire smoldered in Amy's eyes. She crossed her arms over her
chest. "What did you just say, Adam?"
    Rika's heart jumped into her throat. While she found Amy's
way of dressing curious too, she didn't want to cause any trouble for her.
    Amy stood in front of the man, her shoulders squared and her
gaze fixed on him without flinching.
    For a moment, Rika was afraid the man would hit her, and she
had a feeling that Amy wouldn't back down even then.
    "He said the place is probably a mess," the second
man said and pointed at the cabin. "Come on, Adam. Let's get the horses
off the east pasture."
    "No." Amy kept her gaze fixed on Adam. "I
need you to fix the corral gate first. It's sagging, and if it continues to
rain like this, the wood will swell and we won't be able to open the gate
anymore."
    "That's