Part 14 (1/2)

She closed the lid quietly, letting her hand rest upon it for several moments as she looked down at the metal top, the stained leather straps.

”If only you could talk,” she whispered to the trunk. ”I'm sure you'd have secrets to share.”

Then she turned her attention back to the task at hand. She had to be prepared, small bundle and baked biscuits wrapped securely for whatever lay ahead.

As darkness fell, Ariana lit the kerosene lamp as she had been told and sat down in the unfamiliar buckskin clothing on the log stool by her table. Normally she would have spent her evening hours reading or memorizing from her Biblea”but tonight her Bible, along with her few other possessions, was wrapped securely in the little bundle and waiting on the floor close to the room's window, along with the two packages of biscuits.

Ariana had also made up another small bundle with additional food supplies that could be carried on a pack animal. She had no idea how long the trip might take to get back home. The trip through the storm had seemed to take forevera”but if she remembered correctly, they had made it in four days of travel.

More and more throughout the day, the truth of her circ.u.mstances had begun to sink in. This was no pleasure trip through the beauties of the woods. She was not going to be releaseda”set free. She had been smuggled into the camp of lawless mena”and she was to be smuggled out. Laramie had made that plain with his secrecy and carefully laid plans. It was going to be a dangerous mission. Not just for her, she surmised, but for the young man as well.

”Would they really kill one of their own?” she asked herself.

After the events of the night beforea”still unexplained to Arianaa”she had no doubt of the answer. Yes. Laramie could be killed in his effort to free her from the camp and get her back to her own hometown.

Over and over Ariana offered intense little prayers.

And she waiteda”her whole body feeling rigid and trembly, her hands clasped in front of her on the wooden boards of the table, the simple buckskin garments feeling strange on her skin.

The tension within her grew and grew as the night hours moved slowly by. Had Laramie forgotten? No, surely not. Had something happened to him? That thought brought her to near panic. Pray, she ordered herself sternly. Praya”and trust.

Ariana tried hard to fight the waves of fear that swept through her. She had to be calm. She had to be in control. Her flight depended upon it. Without control she might make some very foolish mistake.

And then she heard the gentle rap at her window. Three times. She waited. A repeat of another three. Ariana rose from her seat and moved quickly to the window. Even in her excitement, she noted the silence of the moccasins that had been provided.

She lifted back the towel curtain and could just make out the dim outline of Laramie's face. He motioned for her to open the window, and she did so as quietly as she could.

Without a word, she pa.s.sed the bundles out the window to his waiting hands, then climbed on the log stool that she had placed below the window earlier in the day.

Without a sound Laramie helped ease her body through the small opening and lowered her noiselessly to the ground. Taking her by the hand he began to lead her through the darkness. Ariana wondered how he could even find his way through the heavy growth of trees, but she followed wordlessly.

Before long they came to a small clearing. Three horses stood, stirring restlessly, anxious to be back in their warm stalls. A late spring storm was bringing snow, icy hard flakes, driven by a biting wind. Ariana felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Was this a repeat of the whole horrible nightmare?

As if born of the night, another man was suddenly beside her. He spoke not a word, just reached for her hand. The Indian Laramie had told her about.

At the same time the young brave took her left hand, Laramie released her right. She was being led off into the darkness without even a final word.

She looked back once and stumbled slightly. Laramie was tying the bundles she had given him to the pack saddle on one of the animals. All except for one of the towel-wrapped batches of biscuits. The young brave carried that in his other hand.

”You safe here.”

It was the first the Indian had spoken. Wordlessly he had led Ariana across the valley, through the deep darkness of the woods and into the hills. Now they were entering a cave. Ariana could not restrain a shudder. She hated caves. Was afraid of them. Had always been afraid of thema”even as a young child.

And now she was to enter one. She did not like the idea. But perhapsa”perhaps it was a little better than being in a camp of outlaws.

She steeled herself, took a deep breath, and followed her guide into the opening.

The man was leading her deeper and deeper into the cave. She wondered how he could possibly know where he was going. He stopped and used a flint to light a small lantern that must have been waiting for their arrival. Then they traveled on, winding this way and that, squeezing through small openings in the rocks, crawling through short tunnels, pus.h.i.+ng their way through rubble.

Ariana stifled a scream that pressed at the back of her throat. She feared she would suffocate. She frantically wondered just how much more she could standa”and then they pa.s.sed through a narrow opening and came out into a larger s.p.a.ce. Ariana was faintly aware of the sound of dripping water.

”You safe here,” the young brave said again.

Ariana let her gaze travel over the cave floor. Someone lived here. There were robes and blankets and supplies. Someonea. Who? The Indian? Surely she wasn't expected to share the dwelling witha”

”It drya”safe,” the young man said again. Ariana still did not move.

”You light candlea”one,” he ordered.

Ariana stiffly bent to pick up a candle. She noticed that there was a rather large pile of them on the floor. She held the candle to the wick of the lantern he held out to her. The candle sputtered, then raised a tiny, flickering flame. He set the bundle of biscuits on the floor by the other stores.

”You eata”onea”each time you light new candle,” he commanded her in his soft voice. Ariana nodded dumbly.

”Sleep,” he said and pointed to the pile of skins and blankets in the corner.

Ariana nodded again and moved to place her candle in the wooden holder that had been left for it.

He stared at her candle for a long moment with an expression she could not read.

”Don't let candle die,” he cautioned. ”No more light.”

Ariana's eyes widened. Being in this deep, dark cave was bad enougha”but with no light. The very thought sent waves of panic through her.

”I not bring another,” and he indicated the flint in his hand with some apology in his tone. ”I need at front of cave for return.” She stared dumbly at him.

”I go,” announced the man and moved away before Ariana could respond. She was afraid he would fade into the very rocks of the walls.

”Wait,” she cried after him.

He turned back. The flicker of the lantern he held cast eerie shadows on his bronze cheeks. His black eyes seemed to reflect the dancing light.

”Wait,” Ariana implored again, reaching out a trembling hand.

He stood silently while she tried to untangle her thoughts and get them in order for expression.

”IaI need to knowaI mea.n.a.laramie said you'd tell me what I'm to do,” she managed.

He nodded. ”You wait,” he said simply.

”Butain hereaaloneafor whoahow long?” Her questions seemed to tumble over one another.

He came a step closer and set his lantern on the hard rock of the cave floor. Then he surprised her by lowering himself to a cross-legged sitting position. Ariana waited.

He nodded to her, and she understood that she was also to sita”on the pile in the corner that was meant for her bed.

Obediently she sat.