Part 13 (2/2)

Sam's eyes widened. It was clear to Laramie that the words surprised and shocked him. ”Thet girl been fillin' ya with Bible talk?” he asked, and Laramie could tell he was upset.

”Not a'tall,” he drawled. ”Been readin' it fer myselfa”an' fer James here.”

”Where'd you git a Bible?”

”You gave it to me.”

Sam looked about to explode. ”I never did no sech thing an' you knowa””

”Sure you did,” replied Laramie. ”In thet trunka”of my ma's.”

”Yer ma's Bible?”

Laramie only nodded.

Sam chewed on his mustache, then spit in the corner.

”So what can you tell me about her, Sam?” Laramie asked quietly.

Sam's head jerked up. ”Oh no,” he said with a wave of his hand. ”I got nothin' to say. Nothin'. Ain't no business of mine. It's yer pa's place toa”” He stopped, looked at Laramie, then spit again.

There was further silence as Sam continued working on his chaw of tobacco. At length he looked up. ”So yer holdin' yer position?” he asked frankly.

Laramie nodded again, his eyes thoughtful, his jaw set.

”Well, Kid,” Sam said as he slowly lifted himself from the chunk of log. ”I wouldn't give her much chance of gittin' back to life as she knew it, then. Yer pa's 'bout got his mind made upa”an' it's 'bout like a rusty steel trap. Once shuta”never git it open.”

A slight moan from the corner cot caught their attention. Even as Laramie moved toward the bed he saw that the wounded man had taken his last breath.

Laramie stood over him, feeling helpless and sick at his stomach. He never had been able to accept the sight of a man who'd died because of a bullet in his stomach.

He turned away from the bed, one hand raised to slowly tip back the brim of his Stetson. His knees felt weak, his thoughts were jumbled in anger and confusion. It was so senseless. So brutal.

He heard the sound of sc.r.a.ping as Sam pushed himself up from his block seat and onto his feet. Laramie wondered if the sight of the wasted man was making Sam feel sick inside also.

When he turned to look at the older man, Sam was already moving slowly toward the door. Just before he exited the cabin he turned and spit into the corner. ”Guess I'd better tell Skidder to git his shovel out agin,” he said. He left the room without further comment.

Laramie longed to go to Ariana. Was she awake? Had she indeed heard the shouting and the shots? Surely she was frightened and filled with questions.

And he was the reason. He was the cause of her being dragged off from home and family to this terrible bandit outpost. He, unknowingly, had brought about this awful deed.

He buried his head in his hands and tried to address a G.o.d whom he did not know.

And then a new thought brought some peace to his heart. Ariana knew this G.o.d. He had seen the quiet confidence in her eyes as she spread the Book out before her. Even in the midst of her fear, she had shown unbelievable courage. It wasn't her own doing, he was sure of that now. It was because she had faith in the unseen G.o.d she trusted.

Chapter Thirteen.

Escape Laramie brought the wood earlier than usual the next morning. Ariana had washed herself in the basin and dressed in her own garments. She was spending time in early morning prayer. The events of the night before had upset her, so she had not been able to sleep. She had heard the angry shouts, the gunshots, and then the sc.r.a.ping of the shovel against the frozen ground and rocky soil. Something terrible had happened. She was sure of it. It brought her added terror. She had spent most of the night in prayer.

She had hoped that Laramie or Sam would come to her cabin and a.s.sure her that everything was all righta”but at the same time she knew better. Never had she clung so tenaciously to the promises of G.o.d as she had through those long night hours.

When the little rap came on her door, she recognized it as Laramie's signal. Without understanding her intense relief that he hadn't been the one who was buried, she crossed to the door and quickly lifted the st.u.r.dy hook. As the door swung open she looked from his armload of wood to the stack against the wall. She was not in need of more firewood.

”Close the door,” he whispered, and Ariana hastened to obey. Instinctively she knew something had changeda”and not for the better. Her face paled. Her hands knotted against her calico front.

Laramie walked directly to the stack of wood and dropped his pile of logs. As he did so a package tumbled out and fell to the floor. Ariana stared.

”Come here,” whispered Laramie, and Ariana woodenly obeyed.

”I haven't time to talk,” said the man as he began to stack the firewood, making an unusual amount of noise as he did so.

”I'm gittin' you outta here. Sh-h. We might be spied on. I can't stay long enough to give ya all the details. But I've some things fer you to do.”

He glanced around the room again and proceeded to lift stacked logs and bang them against one another as he restacked them by the wall.

”Firsta”make a big batch of biscuitsa”all ya cana”an' wrap 'em upa”in two different bundlesa”maybe in those towels. Don't worry none about crus.h.i.+n'. Thet won't hurt 'em.

”Then, after suppera”pack the things ya want to takea”in as tight a bundle as ya can. I'll pick 'em up. Put on the clothes from this bundle and wait. Light yer lampa”as usual. Keep the big towel over the winda. I'll knock three little rapsa”then agin threea”on yer winda, not yer door. You be ready.” More logs crashed against the wall.

”I'll take ya to a friend of mine. He's p.a.w.nee. He'll take ya where ya'll be safe. Trust 'im.”

He stood and moved to the fire.

”Ya need more water?” he asked in a normal voice.

Ariana stood mute, staring at him. It was too much to take in all at once. She blinked. Her mouth opened but no words came. His hand gave her a little signal, and she swallowed hard and found her voice.

”Yes,” she answered in as even a voice as she could manage. ”YesaI'd like some extraaif you have time. It'sait's the day for my bath.”

He smiled softly and nodded his head as though to compliment her on her control. Then he went to fill the kettle and the basin from the pail and left the cabin with the empty bucket in his hand. Ariana put the hook firmly in place. Her hand was trembling so uncontrollably she could hardly manage the small task.

Ariana finally had a day that demanded action. Over and over in her mind she sorted through those things she was to do. She really did take a bath, thinking that it might well be her last one for some time to come. Then she got out her food supplies and baked biscuits as she had been ordered, until she had a large stack of them on her wooden table.

By the time she had finished her baking the sun was moving lower in the sky.

Ariana began to gather the things she planned to take with her. She was glad she had dressed in her own garments that morning so the things that had belonged to Laramie's mother could be freshly washed. They now hung on the hook on the wall. She crossed the small room, lifted down each item, and folded it carefully. It was the first time she had opened the lid of the trunk since Laramie himself had removed the small chest and worn Bible.

”I wonder if he ever reads?” she mused as she placed the items of clothing back on the top of the pile.

” *Laramie's Mama,' ” she whispered to the unknown woman, ”I don't know anything about youawhether you are aliveaor deadabut I do thank youawhoever you are, for the use of your things. I have tried toato return them to you in the same conditiona.”

Ariana let the words trail off. It did seem awfully silly to be talking to someone who was not there.

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