Part 10 (1/2)

He would do what he could.

Ariana was surprised later in the day when the young man returned and brought with him a hammer and a large hook and eye. He spoke not a word as he nailed the two pieces firmly in place. She watched from her spot at the table, her book open before her, but she said nothing.

When he had finished he lifted his eyes to hers. ”Keep it locked,” he said simply. ”Don't ever open ita”'less it's mea”or Sam.”

Ariana nodded at another reminder that she was constantly in danger.

She let her eyes fall back to the pages before her. ”Trust in the Lord,” she reada”then rereada”and it brought her a measure of comfort.

She had been going through the Bible since her time of captivity, selecting all the pa.s.sages that confirmed that truth. She was amazed at how often she found thema”and at the heartrending circ.u.mstances in which they were spoken. She was excited to read how G.o.d acted on the behalf of those folks long ago. Surely she had great reason to trust such a powerful and merciful G.o.d.

”What's yer name?”

The question surprised Ariana. The young man often came and went without any conversation taking place between the two of them. Now he was stacking an armload of wood inside her cabin. He wasn't even looking her direction.

”Ariana,” she said after hesitating.

”Ariana,” he repeated, and Ariana was surprised at how her name sounded on his tongue.

He continued to stack the logs by the cabin wall.

”And yours?” she dared to ask.

”Call me Laramie,” he replied.

Ariana did not repeat his name aloud but she did mentally. In some strange way it seemed to suit him.

She watched the even flow of his movements as he tucked the logs in place. He looked ordinarya”yet she could not forget the change she had seena”had felta”when they had been confronted on the trail. Here was a kind of man she knew absolutely nothing about. So different from those she knew in her own small town. The very thought made her tremble.

Mrs. Benson put another check mark on the wall calender before she loosed her braid and shook the silvering hair out to spill down her back. How long had it been? Thirty-one days. Thirty-one days and no worda”nothing. She knew everyone in town had already given up. She wondered if her husband had joined their ranks. But noa”not yet. He still included his pet.i.tion for the safety of their girl in each of his spoken prayers. And how many times each day, like she, did he send up silent but fervent pet.i.tions? They both still clung to hope.

Hope in a sovereign G.o.da”that was all they had.

But surelya”that was enough.

”You must be tired of reading the same book,” Laramie casually observed as he set the extra pail of water on the shelf for her weekly bath.

Ariana looked up. His words surprised her. He so seldom spoke to hera”and she never initiated a conversation.

”It's the Bible,” she said.

”The Bible?”

”One can read it over and over and overa”and still never stop learning or run out of fresh truths,” she dared to continue, sensing that he was puzzled by her answer.

”I see,” he said, looking at her, but she felt that he really didn't.

He changed the topic with, ”I'll bring yer supper. Ya want it after yer batha”or before?”

Ariana thought of the tasteless food. She took a deep breath, then dared to bring up what had been on her mind for the past several days. ”If I had a couple of potsa”and some suppliesa”I could do my own cooking and you wouldn't need to bothera””

”No bother,” he cut in quickly.

She felt disappointment seep through her at her unsuccessful bid to prepare her own meals. She was sick of the sloppy beans and tasteless biscuits.

He seemed to reconsider.

” 'Coursea”iffen you'd like to do yer own cookin'a”guess it wouldn't hurt none,” he said tentatively.

Ariana almost smiled in her delight.

”Make out a list of what yer needin',” he invited.

Ariana was perplexed. ”IaI don't have a pencil ora”

It was his turn to look frustrated.

”Reckon there ain't one in camp,” he confessed. Then he shrugged broad shoulders. ”Suppose ya need the usual grub stake. I've picked thet up plenty of times. I can git it for ya.”

Ariana let her eyes travel to the trunk against the wall. ”You don't suppose there is anything likeaa pencilain there?” she mused, nodding her head in its direction.

”Thought you'd looked.”

Ariana shook her head. ”No, not at everything. IaI felt like I wasaintruding. I just looked partway and then IaI foundaI felt that Iathat it wasaprivate.”

He nodded, seeming to be pleased at her respect for privacy.

He crossed to the trunk and lifted up the lid. ”Maybe we should look,” he said. Ariana joined him as he began to lift out some of the dresses. ”Never seen ya wear this one,” he said of a blue check. ”It looks kinda pretty,” he added, almost to himself.

”No,” said Ariana in a voice not much above a whisper. ”I just took oneachange of clothes. IaI use themaand my own, and wash them turn by turn. IaIaappreciate the chance toachangeabut I didn't think that I shouldause all her clothes.”

He looked surprised but made no immediate comment.

”These werea”my ma's, I'm told,” he said frankly. He stopped in some confusion, then said, ”She's gone an' won't be needin' 'em.”

”I'maso sorry,” breathed Ariana.

He came to the blanket, lifted it up, and deposited it on the floor beside him. But Ariana could sense his surprise at the sight of all the baby garments.

Then rather roughly he began to lift out the tiny things and lay them on the floor beside the blanket. He stopped short again after lifting up another handful of small clothing.

He peered into the trunk. A little chest lay on the bottom, and beside it a book with a black cover.

”Look!” Ariana exclaimed excitedly. ”A Bible.”

But Laramie was looking at the chest.