Part 7 (2/2)
”I don't know nothin' 'bout lookin' afteraafter a woman,” he added. ”Know far more about carin' fer a horse.”
Sam chuckled, then said, straight-faced, ”Reckon there's not much difference.”
Laramie waited.
”Ya gotta feed 'em an' keep 'em warm and healthy,” commented Sam.
Laramie stopped his brus.h.i.+ng. ”Buta”it's the healthy part what gets me,” he observed in a soft drawl.
”Meanin'?” asked Sam, not missing a stroke.
”Wella”fer startersa”how long ya think she's gonna be here? Thet might have a heap to do with what she be needin' to stay healthy and all.”
It didn't look as though Sam was going to be drawn in. He shook his head to indicate he had no information, or else would give none.
”Well, it seems to me thet she's needin' more'n a basin and a slop pail,” argued Laramie.
Sam chewed on his mustache.
”Wella”she did ask me fer a tub of some kind,” he replied with little concern or emotion.
”A tub?”
”She wanted to bathea”wash her hair an' her clothes, she said. Womenfolk do thet. Right in the dead of winter,” Sam noted with some astonishment.
Laramie nodded. He led the brush over the chest of his horse and on down the left front leg.
”Where we gonna git a tub?” he asked.
Sam shrugged. ”I've no idee,” he answered.
”But thet was what she asked fera”a tub?”
Sam nodded and spit into the straw at his feet.
”Then I guess I'll jest have to ride on out and find us a tub,” mused Laramie to himself.
Sam's head came up. ”Ya can't do thet,” he exclaimed. ”Yer pa'd have yer hide.”
”He told me to take care of her,” said Laramie, his hand continuing the even strokes with the brush.
”He said to guard her,” growled Sam. ”Nota”fuss.”
Laramie let Sam's words drift into the air of the steamy barn, and then he turned to the older man.
”I really don't see much difference,” Laramie said softly, ”her being a woman. Ya can't do the one without the other.”
Mrs. Benson rose from her knees and wiped her eyes one more time. One day had slowly pa.s.sed into another, day after day, and still there was no trace of Ariana.
She had grieved and hoped and wept and fretted and prayed. She had tried with all of her heart to trust. She had pleaded with G.o.d. Had begged for His intervention. She had even bargaineda”offering her own life in the place of her daughter. Still, the searchers returned empty.
But this morning as she wept before the Lord, a strange peace had entered her aching heart. She couldn't explain it. Wasn't even yet sure if she could fully trust it. But something seemed to be a.s.suring her that Ariana, wherever she was, was in G.o.d's care. Her mind had told her that ever since that first dreadful night, but now her heart was answering yes.
”G.o.d,” she whispered softly into the quiet of the room, ”help me to trust. Help me to go on with life. Help me to forgive those who have tried to find her and have now gone back to minding stores and caring for businesses. They tried, Lord. They tried everything they knew. They couldn't go on searching forever. They have livesa”families of their owna”to tend to. Help me to leave Arianaain your hands.”
She blew her nose and straightened bent shoulders. Somehow she would find the strength to go on. She knew that strength must come from G.o.d.
”Where'd ya git thet thing?” asked Sam, his eyes round with amazement.
Laramie reined in his horse, bringing the pack horse to a halt as well. The tin tub b.u.mped up against the outstretched boughs of a spruce tree, and Laramie pulled the lead to ease the horse over so there would be no chance of damage to his important cargo.
”Found it,” he said simply as he swung lightly down from the saddle.
Sam lifted his hat and scratched his balding head.
”Yer gonna take a heap of teasin' iffen the fellas see ya with thet,” he observed.
Laramie simply shrugged his wide shoulders and busied himself with untying the ropes that held the tub in place.
Sam chuckled. ”Ain't seen nothin' like thet since I was a kid,” he observed as he ran his hand over the cold metal.
”Can't figure how one carries it when it's full of water,” mused Laramie as he lowered the tub to the snow. ”It's heavy as is.”
”Ya don't,” explained Sam patiently. ”Ya put it where ya want it an' then pour the water in.”
Laramie looked surprised. ”How do ya git the water outta it?” he asked innocently. ”Thing ain't got no drain spout.”
”Ya dip it out,” Sam answered.
Laramie stood to his full height and rubbed the back of his hand across his brow.
”Seems like I got me a powerful amount of work here,” he said softly. ”Sure hope she don't count on using it too often.”
Then he turned back to his saddlebags. ”Got a few other things, too,” he informed Sam in conspiratorial tones.
”Like?” asked Sam.
”Some soap. Couple towels. This herea”what ya call ita”wash towel.”
”Washcloth,” Sam corrected.
”Some hair soap.”
<script>