A Gown Of Spanish Lace Part 17

He placed the robe on the rock floor and lowered himself to it. It really wasn't much harder than the wood bunk he was used to. He pulled the blanket firmly about himself and settled for the night.

He heard her stirring and turned so he could look at her. She was lighting a fresh candle.

He was awakened by a touch on his shoulder. White Eagle bent over him, his lantern held high in his other hand.

"You sleep like old bear," he said with a glint in his eyes.

Laramie stirred, chiding himself that he had not heard White Eagle approach. He quickly laid aside the self-incrimination. White Eagle moved like a shadow. No mortal man would have heard him enter the cavern.

His eyes asked the question that he did not voice. White Eagle responded.

"You have horse," he said simply.

Relief swept through Laramie's whole body. He freed himself of the blanket and sat up. "Then I guess I have a trip to take," he replied.

In the corner Ariana began to stir. Sleepily she opened her eyes and then quickly jerked to full wakefulness. "Did it work?" she asked before she even had time to stir from her blankets.

Laramie could not hide his smile. She was like a small child in her eagerness. "It worked," he replied, and Ariana began to push the blanket back as she unwound herself from the bedding and sleep.

"We must hurry," she exclaimed excitedly, and set about gathering together the last of the supplies in a little heap on her deserted bed.

Laramie and White Eagle exchanged glances. Their plan was working. They would get her out.

Will Russell was in a sour mood. First, his well-laid strategy had not worked out right. Instead of the girl bringing about the change in Laramie he had desired, she had been the final straw in breaking Laramie from the gang completely. Will's sense of loss was exceeded only by his great rage. Sam's knowing looks and mumbled p.r.o.nouncements had not helped to appease his anger.

When the discovery had not been made until noon, Will knew Laramie had worked it out so that he had a long head start. With the snow falling, it had been hard to pick up the trail, but Will knew the direction that must be taken to get the girl back home.

He'd had the boys saddle up and they rode out, leaving only Skidder behind to guard the camp. Will had not wanted Skidder in their little posse. He knew the man would use any possible excuse to put a bullet in Laramie's back.

At first they had ridden hard, direct as the crow flies, toward the small town from which Ariana had been taken. Just before they were forced to make camp for the night, they came upon three horses, feeding casually in a small meadow. Laramie's mounts.

Will's first thought had been that the young man and his prisoner had run headlong into a small band of p.a.w.nee. But that didn't add up. The Indians would have kept the horses. So what had really happened? Will was left scratching his head.

It was clear Laramie had made other plans. But what? Where could he get on foot? Had he changed horses? But why? His own mounts were still fresh. It hadn't appeared that they had been ridden hard. The whole thing had him puzzling.

"Set up camp," Will had growled to his men.

So they set up camp.

The next morning the gang expected an order to break camp, but Will looked in no hurry to leave. Instead, he had sent out scouts to scour the nearby countryside.

"See anythinga"fire three shots," they had been ordered. At the end of the day they had returned with nothing to report.

"Wella"we jest sit here an' wait. He'll hafta crawl out sometime," Will had growled.

In the days that followed, the same procedure was repeated. Sam began to question how long they were to sit and waita"so close to the Indian settlement. Will just growled and said he figured he was still the boss. He'd give the orders.

But a nighttime Indian raid had changed his plans. The braves took all their horsesa"all the saddles. Even the small grub stake right from the center of the camp, as though to mock the little band of outlaws. Will was glad to be left with his scalp, though he would not have admitted it to his men.

The air was blue with curses directed at the "red savages." But Will knew many of them would have been directed at him had his men been expressing their true feelings.

So they were all on foot, tramping their way home. The warm spring sun turned the trail into slush, and then mud. They slipped and slid their way up the winding trail and forded waist-deep creek water.

No, they were not a happy group of travelers. The next raid had been carefully planned to take place in just three daysa"and here they were with no mounts except for a couple of scraggly animals back at the corrala"and those without saddles for riding. Their supplies, even back at the base camp, were dangerously low.

As Will Russell trudged through the sloppiness of spring thaw, he kept checking over his shoulder. Men had been known to mutiny for less reason. He was glad he could count on Sama"who was dutifully bringing up the rear of the straggling band of reluctant hikers. Sam's loose hand was never far from his gun holster.

"Do you have any idea what day it is?" Ariana asked as she raised a tired hand to push windblown hair back from her face.

"I know we've been ridin' fer eight days," replied Laramie.

"Where are we?"

"We've a good piece to go yet," was his simple answer as they plodded on.

Ariana felt like groaning. Her whole body ached. It felt as though they had spent those entire eight days in the saddle. Laramie had pushed them hard. He was intent on putting as many miles as possible between them and the camp in the hidden valley. He had not even allowed them the comfort of an open fire.

Ariana did groan, just thinking about it. The nights had been cold, and the scant blanket she clutched to her s.h.i.+vering body did very little to keep out the wind.

They had outridden the snow. The late spring storm that had swept through their area, giving them cover for their escape, had been followed by a bright warm sun that melted the small drifts and set the creeks to singing.

Ariana welcomed the feeling of warm rays on her back. At least there was one spot of her that was not still s.h.i.+vering from the cold night.

Ariana was surprised when Laramie reined in the buckskin. As soon as his horse stopped, Ariana's roan pulled up beside it, nuzzling the buckskin's lathered neck with its nose.

Laramie said nothing. Just sat his saddle as though born to it, studying Ariana with intent eyes. Ariana s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably. There were times when she felt he looked into her very soul.

"Little town up aheada"'bout a mile," he offered. "We're in need of some more supplies."

Ariana's eyes widened. "Have you beenaway up hereabefore?" she asked incredulously.

"No," he answered with a shake of his head.

"Then howa?" she began but didn't finish.

He smiled then, a lazy, easy smile. He nodded his head toward the north. "It's stickin' outa"plain as daya"on thet hillside."

Ariana flushed and shaded her eyes with her hands so she could stare off into the distance. Sure enough, she could make out buildings against the backdrop of trees and rock.

"We're going to stop?" she asked, hoping the eagerness was not too evident in her voice.

He nodded again. "We'll stop," he promised.

Suddenly Ariana felt she had new strength in her weary bones. She straightened in her saddle and gave her mount a heel. If they were going to be stopping, she was anxious to get there.

The small town had a rooming house, and Laramie ordered a room and a hot bath for Ariana before he went to the stables to arrange for the horses' care. They had pushed the animals hard. Laramie wanted time to check them thoroughly, searching for chipped hooves or sore muscles. He had always made a habit of checking the mounts at the end of each day and had noticed nothing seriously amiss, but the little roan had seemed to have a sensitive spot on her right shoulder. He decided on a little liniment and put on some warm compresses.

By the time Laramie had finished at the stable, the sun was setting. He looked down at his trail-soiled clothes and decided he could sure use a bath himself.

The doors of the town's one store were still open, so Laramie made his way into the building. All sorts of goods lined the shelves and formed stacks of deep piles anywhere the owner could find room.

"Howdy," greeted Laramie.

"Howdy," replied the man, letting his eyes travel up and down the newcomer as if to gather all the information he could in one glance.

"Ridin' through?" he asked casually, but Laramie knew the question was far from casual.

"Thet's right," he replied, his voice just as relaxed and offhanded. He began to finger one of the s.h.i.+rts in a nearby stack.

Both men waited.

"Wouldn't have supposed there'd be call fer this much merchandise in such a small town," observed Laramie. "Business must either be powerful gooda"or a sight poor."

The man responded with a hard laugh. "Where you been, cowboy?" he answered. "Don't ya know there's gold in them hills?" He jerked his head toward the northwest. "Been pouring through here a dozen a daya"an' more on the way. I'm the last store between here an' the strike."

Laramie's head came up. "Ya don't say," he said with interest.

Silence again as Laramie went back to eyeing the merchandise.

"Ya fixin' on minin'?" asked the man, breaking the code of the West to wait until the information was freely given.

"Me?" Laramie's head came up. "Nawa"I don't reckon. Had never thought on it." He hesitated a minute while he turned a black Stetson over and over in his hands.

The man looked disappointed. Laramie let him wait.

At last he looked up and gave a bit of a nod. "Do need me a bit of a grub stake, though," he announced. "Takin' my sister on up to stay with our kin."

Even as he spoke the words, his face flushed slightly. He had read in his mother's Bible an account of someone named Abraham making the same false statement regarding his wife Sarah, many, many years ago.

But the man behind the counter did not seem to question the remark. Perhaps his thoughts ran only to the sale.

"You jest pick out what ya wanta"an' show me hard cash, mister," he replied.

Laramie thought the merchant looked as though he was having a hard time keeping from rubbing his hands together in antic.i.p.ation.

"Usual grub stake," Laramie said. "I'll be by to pick it up in the mornin'."

He hesitated. He had a bag full of stolen coins in the small saddlebag he kept with him, but he was reluctant to squander any of it. Actually, he was feeling uncomfortable even having the ill-gotten money. Still, they needed food and he did need a change of clothes. "An' you can add this to the list," he went on, selecting the articles of clothing. "Pay ya fer 'em right now."

Laramie felt much better after he'd had a bath and dressed in the clean clothes. He even thought about getting his hair cut but decided against it. He didn't want to scatter too much money about the little town. There was no use starting tongues to wagging.

As soon as he had finished his simple grooming, he placed the new black Stetson on his head and picked up his money bag. He tied it carefully around his body under his s.h.i.+rt and strapped on his guns. Then he set off down the hall to see if Ariana was ready to try to find a place that served up supper.

Ariana waited impatiently, one small foot tapping the worn carpet. She was starved. She had lingered in the hot bath, enjoying the soothing warmth on her aching muscles. Then she had toweled herself dry and dressed in her own clothing from the pack-sack Laramie had left behind for her. The garments had felt strange at first after so many days in the buckskins, and she did deplore the fact of the many wrinkles. Still, she felt a little more herself as she pinned her hair carefully and surveyed her image in the darkened mirror in the room. Now she had been waiting for what seemed hours. Her patience was wearing thin. Had Laramie just dumped her and expected her to fend for herself? Was she to find her own suppera"or just do without? He knew she had no money with which to make purchases.

And then a horrid thought raced through Ariana's mind. Did Laramie have money? Were they penniless? Would they need to steal their way to Montanaa"like Laramie had been doing all his life? What ifa"what if he had beena"raidinga"and something had gone wrong? He could have been thrown in jail. Been shot and wounded. She might be on her own in this strange little town. Miles from her parents. Miles from the uncle and aunt she did not know.

Ariana felt the panic rising in her chest. Should she go look for him? Should she deny ever having known him, if he'd been caught? Should she seek out a lawman and explain her dilemma?

A lawman? Strange. Ariana had not thought of that. Certainly it would be the reasonable thing to do now that she was in friendly environs. Surely this little town had law of some sort. They would help her. After all, Laramie wasa"was an outlaw.

Ariana hated to think of him in that fas.h.i.+on. But it was true. True. He was an outlaw. Why had she felt she could trust him?

She began to tremble. Her face paled. Her eyes widened with fear and concern. "Oh, G.o.d," she prayed, covering her face with her shaking hands. "What do I do? Should Iait would be proper toaescapeawouldn't it?"

Chapter Seventeen.

End of Journey Ariana rose shakily to her feet. She lifted her chin and looked about her. The room held very few of her personal items, but she carefully gathered them and bundled them into her little pack. Then she pinned her crushed hat carefully in place on her upswept hair and reached for her wrinkled coat and winter gloves. She would do it. It was the only reasonable thing to do.

She lifted her pack. It felt lighter now that she had emptied it of extra clothing and the heavy coat. There really wasn't much in it at all. Her few personal grooming aids. Her Bible. She let her eyes scan the room again to be sure she had missed nothing. The travel-worn buckskins were folded neatly and left on the chair, the moccasins placed on top of them.

Ariana took a deep breath to give herself courage and reached for the door handle. A sharp knock made her gasp and draw back quickly.

"Ariana," came Laramie's voice. "Ya ready?"

Ariana could not have said whether the intense feelings that pa.s.sed through her were of regret or relief. Quietly she laid her little bundle on the floor behind the door, took a deep breath to calm herself, and reached to undo the lock.

Laramie stood there, clean-shaven and polished until he fairly shone, his s.h.i.+rt still stiff with newness. Even the worn, droopy Stetson had been replaced. Ariana's little gasp caught in her throat. If he had been raiding it seemed he had covered a lot of ground in a big hurry.

He stood looking at her. Ariana looked down at her own faded, wrinkled garments. When she looked back up he gave her a slight nod as though to express his approval.

"Thought ya might be nigh starved," was his comment.

She swallowed and s.h.i.+fted uneasily. "Yesayes, I am," she stammered. "IaI was beginning to thinka"

But Ariana did not finish the statement. She wasn't sure how much she should say.

They left the town bright and early the next morning. Ariana was surprised when she went down to join Laramie that he had added another horse to the number. Bulging packs were secured to the pack saddle.

"Don't worry," he drawled, as though reading her mind. "It's all paid fer."

He did not explain how he had come by the money that paid the accounts.

Ariana was back in her buckskins, her dress repacked in the bundle she handed to Laramie. She noticed a slicker tied behind each saddle. His eyes followed hers. "Keeps out some of the wind and rain," he offered.

Laramie settled the bill with the woman who kept the rooming house, and he held Ariana's horse while she mounted, and they were on the trail once again.

It was almost a pleasant day. Ariana tried not to think of the little town they had left behind. She tried not to scold herself for not having attempted to find a lawman. She tried not to wonder if Laramie could really be trusted to deliver her to the home of her uncle in Montana. She pushed all of the troubling thoughts as far into the back of her mind as she could and tried to concentrate on prayer, even as she swayed slightly in the saddle.

Laramie was still pressing the mounts forward at a fast pace. Ariana had thought he would relax a bit. The spring sun was high in the sky before he took the first break. Ariana climbed down stiffly.