A Gown Of Spanish Lace Part 19

"Miss 'im?" He stared into the fire a moment. "No," he said frankly.

She was sure her astonishment at his answer showed on her face.

"IaI think of himawish things could be differentabut I don't miss him," Laramie explained.

She drew up her knees in a manner he had come to recognize, and hugged them to her. "OhaI miss my papa," she said with deep feeling. "And Mamaaso much." A tear trickled down her cheek, exposed by the dancing firelight.

He made a move as if to come to her, but instead said, "We need to git some sleep. We got a long ride tomorra."

"I remember," called Ariana with excitement in her voice. "It's Pinewood."

Laramie turned back to look at her, puzzlement on his face.

"Pinewood," she repeated. "That's where Uncle Jake and Aunt Molly are. Near Pinewood."

He turned back to his mount. Therea"they had it. There would be no excuse to keep her with him now.

"Last name?" he called back to her.

"Benson. Bensona"just like my father."

He guided his horse carefully over a fallen log.

"Pinewood," he repeated. "Guess we'd better stop first chance we git an' find out jest where thet is."

When they finally found a farmstead, they were both amazed to discover how close they were to the little town of Pinewood.

"Happen to know Jake Benson?" Laramie asked the farmer.

"Jake? Sure I know Jake. Don't have many neighbors out here, so ya make it a point to get to know 'em," the man in the worn overalls stated. "Lives other side of towna"'bout six hours from here."

Laramie was relieved to hear that they would have to share one more evening campfire, but he didn't say so. Nor did he tell the farmer they would be camping out again. He was afraid the man might, in his friendliness, take Ariana into the family's crowded cabin and offer Laramie the barn loft.

"Thank ya kindly," Laramie said with a tip of his head, and he led Ariana and the pack horse back out onto the dusty track that meant roads and civilization.

"We'll ride on fer an hour or two and then make camp," he said simply. "Shouldn't be much of a ride tomorra."

Ariana could hardly contain her excitement.

Ariana trembled as she lifted her skirts and moved toward the farmhouse door. They had stopped back a piece, and Laramie had gone for a walk while Ariana took a quick dip in the cold waters of a small creek, then dressed hurriedly in her own clothes. She had not discarded the buckskins. Instead she'd folded them, almost tenderly, and put them in the bundle from which she had withdrawn her rumpled cotton. The buckskins had served her well. Calico or gingham would have worn through long ago on the endless trail.

Ariana looked down at her faded dress. She certainly was not coming to her kin looking pressed and proper. Hesitantly she lifted her hand to rap. Then she cast one more glance back over her shoulder to where Laramie stood holding the horses. The brim of his hat was shading his eyes, so she could not read his expression.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the wood. The door was soon opened by an elderly woman, a dish towel still in her hand.

"Yes?" she said, then blessed Ariana with a smile. "Come in," she welcomed and waved Ariana into the humble home. "You must be new here. Are you from the place down on Cedar Creek?"

"NoanoaIa" Ariana took a deep breath. "Molly Benson?" she asked tentatively. "Are you Aunt Molly?"

The woman nodded her agreement but looked puzzled by the question.

"I'maI'm Ariana," the girl managed. "George and Laura's daughter."

For a moment the woman stood silent, her face showing shock. Then with one quick movement she gathered Ariana into her arms, holding her close as she laughed and wept in unison.

"Ariana? Oh, G.o.d be praised. We all feared you were dead."

Chapter Eighteen.

A Joyous h.e.l.lo and a Painful Goodbye "Oh, Aunt Molly," Ariana said through her own tears and laughter, "I was afraid we'd never find you." She realized that her long ordeal was finally over. She was back with those she loved. Her life could go on again.

"What are you doing here, child? How'd you get here?" the woman quizzed excitedly.

Ariana moved back out to the porch, drawing her Aunt Molly with her. She nodded toward Laramie, who stood with the horses.

"It's a long storya"one I promise to tella"someday. It wasn't safe for me to go back home. But we must let Mama know. And Papa. We must."

"You sit right there." The woman pointed at a small bench in the shade of the porch. "I'm going for your uncle." She started off toward a nearby field, removing her ap.r.o.n as she bustled along. Ariana watched as she ran, waving the ap.r.o.n in the air to get the man's attention.

"It seems you've caused quite a stir."

Laramie stood close behind Ariana. She brushed at the tears on her cheeks.

"You know, I don't think I really believed it would happen. OhaI tried to have faith. I prayed. But itait seemed soaso impossible at times. I don't think I really thought thatathat it would ever end."

He was silent for several minutes as they watched her aunt draw near to her uncle, arms waving, fingers pointing back at the house. Ariana could almost guess her words.

"It's been hard for you," said Laramie simply. "I'm glad it's over."

Ariana turned to him, her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g, her face flushed. "IaI can never thank you enough. Never," she said with conviction. "If it hadn't been for youa"

Laramie shuffled uncomfortably. He reached up to push at the brim of his hat. At last his eyes lifted. "If it hadn't been for me you'd still be in your own hometown," he said huskily.

Ariana's eyes clouded. "What do you mean?" she asked him.

He took her elbow and steered her to the porch bench, out of the bright rays of the sun.

"I don't know if you've guessedaif you've really understood it allabut you were brought to the campabecause of me."

Ariana was still confused.

"IaI wasn't quiteashapin' upalike my paahad planned. You seea" He hesitated, then swallowed. "I had neverakilled a man."

"Killed a man?" she whispered. "I don't understand. Thatais a fault?"

"In Pa's eyes," he said simply.

Ariana s.h.i.+vered.

"But I don't understand. What did that have to do with me?"

He took a deep breath. "Pa figured I'daI'd be forced toatoagit into a fight over youaan' have to use my gun."

"But Ia""

"You had nothin' to do with ita"directly. Only indirectly. Pa knew thet there'd be other fellas who wouldaanyway, he figured there'd be a showdowna"likely with Skiddera""

"Skidder?" said Ariana with a s.h.i.+ver. "Is he the one who said those awful things?"

Laramie nodded.

"But why would Skiddera"? Why would youa"?"

"Pa thought I'd fall in love with you." He said the words hurriedly as he watched the man and woman scurry up the lane.

She was shocked. "But that'sa"preposterous," she exclaimed.

He started to say something, then stopped.

Then her eyes softened. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him. "I didn't know. I've been the cause ofaa lot of trouble between you and your father."

His face showed his surprise at her words.

"But I am glada"and I cannot deny it. Glada"and thankfula"that you neveranever killed. IaI justadon't think you are that kind of man."

"Ariana, I'm an outlaw," he reminded her.

"Not anymore you're not," she said quickly. "And I don't believe for a moment you ever would have been if you'd been given the choice. I've seenaenoughato believe that youa"you're not like that."

By now the man and woman were rus.h.i.+ng into the yard, panting from the hurried trip from the field. The short, private conversation was over. All Laramie could manage was a quiet "thank you."

Then her uncle was rus.h.i.+ng toward Ariana, his arms open.

Everything seemed in turmoil after the quiet days on the trail. Jake Benson hitched a team to the wagon and hurried off to town to send a wire to Ariana's parents. Molly fluttered about the kitchen, laughing, praising the Lord, and crying by turn. Ariana, flushed and excited, talked more in a few short hours than she had during the last four months.

Laramie withdrew from all the commotion, not used to the intensity of emotions, the free expressions of love and tenderness between Ariana and her family. He spent his time at the corral tending to the horses.

Slowly he unpacked the pack horse, lifting aside Ariana's small bundle. His job was over. He had delivered her safely to her aunt and uncle. They would take over now.

So what was he going to do? He had not thought about it. He could not turn around and go back. He wouldn't have wanted to, even if that was possible. Yet he had no particular skillsa"other than with a gun. Had never really worked. He was adrift. Freed from a world he had never felt a part of, to enter a world where he did not fit. What would he do?

He climbed up on the rail of the corral to watch the horses and ponder the question. He'd have to find worka"somewhere. Maybe he should go back to the small town on the side of the hill, buy himself a grub stake, and try his hand at finding gold. Maybe he could look up a ranch and hire himself out as a cowpoke. He was good with horses. He might work fine with cattle, too. Maybe he shoulda"

But every idea that came to him brought little inner response. Nothing seemed to connect with him. Yet here he wasa"for the first time in his lifea"free to make his own decisions.

He couldn't understand his mood.

"Aw, it's jest the letdown after all the days of tension," he tried to tell himself. But down deep inside he knew the real reason. It was Ariana. Once he left her, he would never see her again. His pa had been right. Loving a girl could nearly ruin a man.

"Hungry?"

Laramie's head jerked up as Ariana came up beside him.

"Aunt Molly has fixed tea," she announced.

At the look on Laramie's face she began to laugh. A soft, joyful laugh. It was the first Laramie had heard her laugh so freely in all the months he had known her. It was a reminder of how much they had taken from her in holding her captive in such a degrading way.

"You don't have to drink tea," she said with a sparkle in her eyes. "I'll fix you some coffee."

Laramie supposed he should be hungry, but he really had little appet.i.te.

"It's not the tea," he was quick to inform her, not wanting to be uncivil. "It's just thata"" He let his gaze drop to his trail-dusty attire. "I'm not really fit company an' Ia""

"Oh, come on," she coaxed. "Uncle Jake and Aunt Molly are just ordinary folk. Farmers. Uncle Jake didn't change out of his dusty overalls."

"It's not just theaclothes," he said, still hesitating. "Iahardly fit in withaproper company. I know little ofa"what do you call it?"

She smiled again. "Social graces? I promise we won't expect you to use one of those little teacups and eat bite-size sandwiches." Her eyes were twinkling again.

He was still uncomfortable.

"We're going to eat on the back porch," she continued.

He reached up one finger to tip back his new Stetson.

"You have to start sometime," she encouraged. "We won't be eating around a campfire anymore."

She had said "we." Was that just a slip? Surely she wasn't thinking that he intended to hang around.

"Come on. Aunt Molly is anxious to get to know you better. She's worried about letting you sleep in the loft. Says it's not really fixed for guests. I said, after where we've been sleepinga""

He stopped her. "You're not thinkin' I'll be stayin' here, are you?"

Her eyes widened. He could tell from her expression that it was exactly what she had been thinking.

"Where elsea"?"

"I can't." He shook his head.

The concern in her eyes deepened. She reached out and put a hand on his arm.