A Gown Of Spanish Lace Part 5

Little girls cried and young boys shuffled in agitation. It just wasn't like their teachera"to just disappear. Something awful must have happened.

At last the tired, hungry searchers returned to their homes, chilled by the cold winds and hampered by blowing snow. There simply was no logic in searching on through the darkness.

In spite of the continued blowing snow, the next morning the sheriff organized a posse of town citizens to fan out into the surrounding hills and even beyond to the plains. An intense search was made along the creek bank, in the fear that Ariana might have slipped and fallen while crossing the footbridge. No sign of her was found.

Bernard Dikerson asked his father to post reward money for her safe return, and the man responded. As the day wore on and the searchers drifted back with no news, the whole town was stricken.

Nothinga"not a trace of the missing girl was found. The doors of the school were closed, and folks of the town huddled in whispering groups, shocked and saddened by the tragic and mysterious disappearance of the beloved schoolteacher.

In the parsonage, the fear and grief filled every room. The Bensons clung to each other. They prayed, they cried, they reminded themselves that they had a sovereign G.o.d, then they prayed and cried some more.

"Surely G.o.dasurely G.o.d knows where she is andaand can preserve her," insisted Pastor Benson. With her handkerchief clutched in her hand and tears on her cheeks, Mrs. Benson shakily nodded her head in agreement.

Ariana could not tell if it was day or night when she was roused from sleep by the nudge of a well-worn boot. The big man stood over her, staring down into her face.

"Time to ride," he ordered.

Ariana struggled to stand. She moved nearer the fireplace, brus.h.i.+ng futilely at her wrinkled skirts. The door opened and Sam came in. He was s.h.i.+vering from the cold and muttering words of profanity.

"Fool weather fer anyone to be out," she heard him grumble.

"Where's yer coat, ya dumb ox?" demanded the big man, no sympathy in his tone.

"Didn't think I'd need it jest to get the horses ready," Sam replied, not looking up from the coffee he was pouring.

Ariana's eyes dropped to her feet. Sam's heavy coat had been her bed for the night. She felt her cheeks warming with the thought that he had chosen to face the bitter cold rather than awaken her. It both embarra.s.sed her and gave her reason to hope. Perhaps the man was not all bad.

"How're the horses?" asked the big man between gulps of coffee.

Sam nodded. "Near froze to death, I'm thinkin'. Anxious to be movin' so's their blood'll flow agin."

"Then let's git movin'," said the big man, and he drained his cup of the last swallow of coffee.

"Girl ain't et yet," remarked Sam.

The big man turned to Ariana and scowled. "Best grab ya a biscuit or two. Won't be stoppin' fer no teatime."

Ariana moved forward. Every bone in her body protested. First the ride through the cold. Then the night on the crude bed on the floor. Her entire being hurt.

She reached for a biscuit, but the pain in her wrist brought a sharp intake of breath. For a moment she felt faint and fought to stay upright.

Sam made a motion as if to move toward her, but then stopped. Neither made comment.

As soon as the room came back into focus, Ariana reached out with her left hand and claimed one of the biscuits lying on the table. She switched it to her right hand so she could accept the cup of coffee Sam held out to her.

The biscuit was hard. The hardest thing Ariana had ever tried to chew. Hesitantly she dipped one edge into her coffee and chewed off the softened portion. It was not pleasanta"but at least it was edible.

Ariana did not have to be encouraged to take full advantage of all of the warmth she was offered. She accepted the heavy mittens, the blanket, along with the moth-eaten beaver hat for her head. Even with this, she still s.h.i.+vered against the cold.

She could hardly tell if it was day or night. The snow continued to fall, obliterating the suna"if indeed it was somewhere up above. The swirling whiteness wiped out all landmarks. All sign of the world around them. Ariana wondered if the two men really knew where they were going or were simply wandering on through the storm. She dared not ask any questions.

After what seemed hours and hours of stumbling their way along the hidden trail, the big man pulled up his horse and the other horses stopped in line behind him.

"Snow's deep," he said when Sam pushed up beside him. "Think it might be wise to camp here tonight."

"I was sure hoping to git on home to my own bed," said Sam.

"It's been slow goin'. Don't think we'll make it home tonight. A bit too risky on thet ridge."

Sam nodded. He didn't seem about to argue on that score.

"There's a cave mouth in there somewhere," said the big man, motioning vaguely. "See iffen ya can find it."

Sam moved off cursing. "Jest hope no big bear found it first," Ariana heard him say.

The big man turned to her. "Git on down," he said, not offering her any a.s.sistance. Ariana wasn't sure if her legs would hold her, but she moved stiffly to obey.

It was as she had feared. Even though she clung to the horse for support, she could not stand upright. Her legs gave way and she found herself in a heap in the deep snow.

"Women," groused the big man to accompanying curses. "Don't got no more starch in their backbone then a snake."

Ariana quite expected to remain in the snow until she could find the strength to movea"unless Sam took mercy on her. But to her surprise the big man reached down and roughly scooped her up. He carried her easily to the side of the trail and deposited her unceremoniously on a tree stump without bothering to brush off its cap of snow.

Ariana sat silently, willing herself to hold her tears at bay. They would only freeze on her frosted cheeks, making her even more miserable than she already was.

Sam returned after some moments and announced he had found the cavea"and it was uninhabited.

Sam moved the horses toward it. Ariana managed to get one foot to proceed the other. With great difficulty she followed the trail broken by Sam and the mounts. The big man brought up the rear.

They gathered in the cave. Sam built a fire, and to Ariana's surprise it was warmer than the cabin had been. But soon swirling gray smoke filled the cave and made Ariana's eyes sting. She moved back into the farthest corner, even though she longed to take advantage of the heat that radiated from the beckoning flames. Sam made the coffee, and along with more hardtack and pemmican, they shared the simple supper. Ariana was only too willing to curl up on spruce boughs and Sam's buffalo robe. She was exhausted. Besides, it was only in sleep that she could shut out the horror of her present experiencea"even if only for a few hours of time.

Chapter Six.

Arrival As they traveled the next day, Ariana grieved as each hour took her farther and farther away from her family and home. She ached for her father and mother. If only she had some way to communicate with them. To let them know she had not been harmeda"at least not yet. She worried about her students. What would they do? What would they think of her, failing to show up for cla.s.ses?

She prayed and worried by turn. Frantic mental searching for ways of escape, followed by clinging to the one word, trust. "Surely G.o.d knows where I am, even if I don't," she would remind herself, and then turn right back to worrying again.

Stop it, she scolded herself. I can't trust and worry at the same timea"can I?

It was so difficult to obey her own admonition.

The blinding snow still swirled around her. Her tired pony stumbled on and on. Her bones ached. Her flesh felt numb with cold. She sometimes wondered if she was more dead than alivea"but they traveled on through the blank whiteness.

Guessing it to be afternoon, she had a strange sense that more than falling snow obliterated the pathway. She looked around but could make out little of the landscape. At times she knew she was very close to brus.h.i.+ng up against something on one side or the other. She caught brief glimpses of solid rock. Is it some sort of pa.s.sageway? she wondered. But she could not see well enough for her question to be answered.

She was slumped in her saddle, eyes half closed, when she felt the steps of her horse quicken. Then she heard a neigh from the big black that the man ahead was riding. Sam's horse pushed at hers from behind.

From the near distance came an answering whinny. Ariana felt a new stirring of the animals and the two men who guided her. Before her eyes buildings began to take shape. She could not see them clearly through the snow, nor could she count them. Was it a town? But no, they all looked poorly kept. Ramshackle. And then she heard the big man say "Whoa" in his loud raspy voice, and the four horses stopped as one.

Ariana did not move. She was aware that someone stood near her. She wondered if she would be lifted down or left to fall off her mount.

"Git her to the south shack. I'll have one of the boys take care of the horses," the big man's voice instructed, and she was moving off again, her horse being led away by Sam.

There was no way she could have made it into the building on her own. Sam half supported, half carried her. Once inside, he helped her to a wooden bunk in the corner.

"I'll git a fire goin'," he announced. "It'll soon be almost livable in here."

Ariana did not respond.

She heard the man moving about the cabin and sensed that the fire had been started. But she didn't care. Didn't care about any of it. She was cold clear through and weary beyond belief. Her swollen wrist did not hurt any more than the rest of her. She closed her eyes and almost immediately fell into a deep sleep.

Ariana woke up stiff and sore and in a strange place with no idea how long she had slept.

Her first conscious thought was that the sun was now s.h.i.+ning. She could see its faint light through the cracked, dirty window. She breathed a prayer of thanks for the sun. Now someone would be looking for her. Now there was some hope she would be found.

Her next awareness was that she was not alone. She felt a moment of panic and her eyes quickly scanned the room.

Sam sat on his log stool with his back against the cabin wall. He was tilted back so his feet could extend to be propped up on a rough table.

"Mornin'," he said lazily when their gaze met.

Ariana groaned in response. It brought a little chuckle.

"Little stiff?" he asked good-naturedly.

Ariana struggled to get her feet off the bed and under her. Every movement hurt.

"You'll git yer bones shook outa"all in good time," Sam commented, cutting himself a chew of tobacco.

Ariana concentrated hard on standing to her feet.

"Brung ya the things ya be needin'," went on Sam, and he dropped his heavy-booted feet to the floor with a clunk.

Ariana looked about her. The room was small. It had a potbellied stove, the rough wood table, two log stools, and the bunk in the corner on which she had slept. Over by the door, a simple shelf held a dented basin and a sickly green, chipped enamel pitcher. On the floor stood a pail with water. A second pail stood near. Sam nodded at it now.

"Yer slops," he explained. "Winder is nailed shut so's ya'll jest have to wait 'til we come to dump 'em."

Ariana noticed her schoolbag on the table. She was comforted to see even that little bit of home.

Sam stood to his feet. "Reckon ya'd like to get washed up. Water's hot in the kettle."

Ariana had missed the kettle that sat near the back of the stove.

"I'll brung ya over some vittles."

Sam shuffled toward the door.

Ariana moved as though to follow. She wanted to call after the unshaven man. She had so many questions. Where were they? Is this where she would stay? For how long? Why? Why?

Before she could get her voice to work, he had gone. She heard the thunk of a heavy bar falling into place over the outside of the door. She was locked in.

Ariana spent most of the first two days in her captive cabin in tears of fear and frustration. She was locked in. Solidly and securely. She didn't know where she was or why she was there. The most frightening thought was that she didn't know what her captors intended.

There was no way out. She had already pushed with all her might on the door and clawed at the window until the tips of her fingers bled. There was nothing she could do. Nothing but weep and pray.

On the third day, Ariana awakened from a troubled sleep and took a fresh look at her situation. So far, nothing too terrible had happened to her. She was a prisoner, yes, but other than that first encounter with the two men and her damaged wrist, she had not been hurt or mistreated, at least so far. Only Sam had been to the cabina"though she had heard other voices outside and other footsteps on the path. She should thank G.o.d for each day of safety. Her fathera"and the townsfolka"would be looking for her, led by the sheriff and his men. Maybe they were closing in even at the moment. She just had to be patient. Be calm. Trust. Really trust in her heavenly Father. Her fighting and agitation and tears were getting her nowhere. Ariana wiped her eyes and decided that those tears would be her last.

"Well, ya got her herea"now what?"

Sam spit at the fire and turned back to eye his boss. The big man said nothing. He seemed to be thinking.

At last he stirred and turned to Sam. "So fara"plan's worked jest fine," he said with satisfaction. "Ya picked a good one. Pretty an'a"well, she oughta race the blood of any man. Even one as cool and calculating as the Kid."

He stopped and laughed, not a pleasant sound. Sam s.h.i.+fted nervously on his wooden block.

"The storm did jest what we wanted it to," went on Will Russell, then stopped to curse and spit on the floor. "Not even an Injun could track us through all thet."

Sam s.h.i.+vered at the thought of the storm. There had been more than once when he'd thought they would all end up frozen in the saddle.

"So nowa"" prompted Sam.

The big man scowled. "What ya frettin' on now?" he growled.

"Ain't frettin'," responded Sam, unruffled. "Jest wonderin' how long I'm gonna be playin' nursemaid to the little schoolmarm."

Will stomped across the room and looked out the window at the sunny day. The snow lay in s.h.i.+mmering drifts across the floor of the canyon. The buildings all wore big fluffy caps of winter snow, and the trees bowed down with the weight of the whiteness. It was a pretty world.

But Sam could tell his thoughts were on other things. " 'Bout time to have us a meetin'," Will said, and he grinned an ugly grin that showed his stained teeth and highlighted the jagged scar crossing his cheek.

He turned back to Sam. "Tell the fellas we want to have them all in here followin' supper. Who's on guard duty?"

Sam thought for a moment. "Right nowa"James. Then Curly. First night s.h.i.+fta"McDuff."

"Good," said the big man. "I wanna be sure that Skidder is here fer this meetin'. And the Kid. Make sure the Kid's here."

Will Russell began as usual, spitting on the floor, then clearing his throat. His son watched as the big man's eyes scanned the group of rough and rugged men, a motley crew, to be sure.

"Ya all know thet we got us a guest," was his opening statement. He paused. There was no response.

"Now this here guest isa"special. I can't give ya none of the particularsa"jest want to say thet the keepin' is important. Thet's all thet's necessary to say. Iffen anything should happen toa"our guesta"thet is anything thet would lend itself toa"leavin'a"well, I wouldn't take a bit kindly to thet."