Part 8 (1/2)

”Where'd ya git all thet stuff?” asked Sam again.

Laramie gave the older man a smile. ”You got yer secretsa”I got mine,” was all he would say.

”Seems ta me yer taking yer guardin' duties awful serious-like,” muttered Sam.

Laramie made no comment.

Ariana was both surprised and delighted when the tub arriveda”without commenta”in her small room and was deposited close to the big iron stove. Silently she watched as Laramie filled both the kettle and the basin and placed them on the stove. Then he emptied a saddlebag of its contents, spreading the small items on the table.

”Thank you,” said Ariana softly.

Laramie picked up the pail to go for more water, outwardly calm, though inwardly in turmoil. He had never been thanked before in his life. Her words caught him off guard. He nodded his head toward her but did not look her way. ”I'll git more water,” was his only comment.

After he left, Ariana moved to look at what he had left behind on the table. Soap, a hand mirror, towels, a couple of washcloths, a bottle of shampoo advertised to make ”one's tresses silky and perfumed,” and a pair of ivory-tipped manicure scissors. In spite of her circ.u.mstances, Ariana had to smile. At least these few things would help to make her feel more human.

On the other hand, the simple items brought new worry to her already troubled heart. It looked as though they were expecting her to occupy the cabin for some time to come. The very thought made Ariana want to put her head in her arms and weep. Instead, she stiffened her back and tried to turn her thoughts to other things.

While Laramie was hauling and heating the water for her bath, Ariana was looking for some way to hang one of the towels over the fully exposed window. Even though the pane was so dirty one could hardly see out of it, she didn't want to take any chances with someone seeing in.

But there were no nails, no pegs, no way of a.s.suring any privacy. She still stood there, a frown on her face and the towel in her hands, when Laramie rattled the door again. Along with the pail of water, he carried another dented kettle and a big pot. He added these items to the stove top and filled them from the pail. The little stove was now so crowded that Ariana feared to move any of the pots lest she send one of them tumbling to the floor.

He turned to leave again, water pail in hand.

”Ia” dared Ariana, her voice tight with nervousness. ”I was wonderinga”

He turned back to her.

She pushed aside her fear with grim determination. ”The window,” she said, pointing to it, ”is thereacan weait needs to be coveredasomeway. If I had a hammer and some nailsa” She held up the towel in her hands.

He made no reply but seemed to understand her faltering words of concern. He nodded and left again.

When he returned he not only had another pail of water but a hammer and some rusty nails. He set the pail on the small shelf and proceeded to the window, where he pounded the nails into the dust-covered logs. Ariana watched silently. When he had completed the task, she handed him the towel, which he hooked in place, making a makes.h.i.+ft but workable curtain for her window. He stepped back and eyed it carefully; then seeming satisfied he nodded his head.

”I'll be back to put the water in the tub,” he said as he was about to leave.

”I can do it,” Ariana was quick to inform him.

He looked at the stove and then back to her. He nodded in agreement and turned to go.

”Buta”” Ariana's voice stopped him.

”Somethin' else?” he asked as he turned to her.

Ariana looked nervously from the young man to the door and back again.

”Could youacould youaknockabefore coming in next time?” she asked timidly, and her chin lifted just a bit to bolster her courage.

It took a moment for the meaning of the words to register. Then his face flushed.

”Miss,” he said, his hand raising unconsciously to tip back his Stetson, ”I'll be knockin' every time.”

Then he was gone.

As much as she longed to linger in the warm, soapy water, Ariana hurried with her bath. It didn't seem quite safe to remain in the tub in spite of his promise to announce his coming.

She yearned to wash her filthy garments but had nothing to change into. She thought of wrapping herself in the coa.r.s.e blanket while her clothing dried, but under the circ.u.mstances it didn't seem like a good idea.

Reluctantly she put on the same skirt and s.h.i.+rtwaist that she had laid aside. They smelled of woodsmoke and room dust. She was glad the weather hadn't been such to cause perspiration odor as well.

Then she set about was.h.i.+ng her hair. It felt so good to give her scalp a good scrubbing. The shampoo lived up to its boast. As her dark brown curls began to dry, they did feel silky again, and they did have a delightful scenta”even in the dust and dirt of the dank cabin.

When he came with her evening meal, her hair still had not dried completely and hung about her shoulders like a soft mantle. He could smell the perfume of it as he set the tin plate on the bare table. He moved quickly away.

”Yer done with the tub?” he asked, for something to say.

”Yesa”thank you,” she responded.

He was surprised that she had dipped out most of the water. The slop pail was full, as were the basins and big pot he had brought. As far as her circ.u.mstances allowed, she was independent. He liked that, though he really couldn't have said why. He set about finis.h.i.+ng emptying the bath water while she toyed with her supper.

He was carrying out the tub and its last bit of water when she spoke again. ”Is thatais that someone else's tub?”

He looked at her, wondering just what she was asking.

”No,” he said curtly.

”Thenado you mindabringing it back in?” she asked him.

He stopped short. Surely she wasn't going to bathe againa”so soon.

”It'll get very cold if it's left outaout in the elements,” she explained. ”When it's cold it cools the water too quickly.”

He understood then and nodded his a.s.sent.

He brought the tub back into the room. He had to kick some clutter aside in order to make room for it against one wall of the cabin. He swore beneath his breath, ending his words with ”filthy place.”

”If I had some sort of broom I could sweep it out,” she offered from where she sat.

He felt embarra.s.sed that she had overheard him.

When he reached the door he hesitated. ”Anything else?” he asked.

It was almost a smile she gave hima”though it was checked and guarded. ”You've been most helpful,” she said quietly. ”I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Her words made him squirm with discomfort. A prisonera”voicing thanks.

He nodded and turned quickly to go. He could stand no morea”niceness or womanliness or whatever it was. But he promised himself that the next time he came to the cabin, he'd bring his stub of a broom and sweep out the place.