A Gown of Spanish Lace (21 page)

Her pile of candles was being quickly used up too. Ariana would not let herself think about being left in the dark. She simply would not be able to endure it. She would bolt for sure. But did she know her way out? The young Indian had turned this way and that, selecting one tunnel over another—and he had a lantern. She would get lost in the labyrinth for sure without any light. She might wander forever and never find her way to daylight. The mere idea was more than she could bear.

“Sleep,” she told herself. “Sleep. Time will pass more quickly. Surely he will come soon. Surely…”

She checked the candle to make sure it had plenty of burning time left and eased onto the bed of fur. She tucked the blanket firmly about her and closed her eyes. The constant dripping of water distracted her, but she fought against it. She found a hymn whose beat kept time with the dripping and sang it over in her mind. Over and over—until it was almost hypnotic. Finally she drifted off into a troubled sleep.

Ariana awoke, fighting for full consciousness. Something was wrong. She knew it—but in her state of drowsiness she was unable to reason it through.

She listened, straining to hear in the darkness. Nothing. Nothing but the soft drip of the seeping water.

Then if a noise had not disturbed her—what had?

She groped to pull the blanket more closely about her chin. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

And then the truth hit her full force. There was no light! Her candle was no longer burning. What had happened? What had put out the flicker of light?

It took several minutes before Ariana could gather enough courage to reach out in the darkness. The place where the candle had been was just a sticky spot on the wooden holder. She had slept too long. Her candle had burned out.

“Oh no,” she cried out. “No.” Her voice echoed around her.

Panic nearly suffocated her. She would never be able to stand it alone in the dark. Never. She wouldn’t be able to find her food. Her water. She’d die. She’d surely die.

A feeling of total desperation overtook her. She found herself praying that she might die quickly. Then Ariana buried her face in the warm fur, and for the first time since the early days of her capture, she wept uncontrollably.

“Ya sure we won’t be spotted?” Laramie asked as he followed White Eagle along an unmarked trail.

“Leaning Tree watch,” replied the brave.

The answer satisfied Laramie and he picked up the pace. Each man led one of the mustangs, saddles again in place after a struggle to get the horses to accept them. But White Eagle insisted it would be safer for them to walk through the trees rather than to ride. The horses had now quieted to the saddle, but accepting a rider in the saddle would start the battle all over again. They had no time to lose.

As it was, it was getting dark by the time White Eagle pushed aside a small bramble bush and motioned Laramie into the mouth of a hidden cave.

They had moved in a short distance when White Eagle stopped and lifted a lantern from a hidden place in the rocks. Silently he lit it and then moved stealthily on.

Deeper and deeper into the cavern they went, winding first one way and then angling back another. Laramie was counting on his friend to eventually get them to the right place—and to make sure they would find their way out again.

They had walked what seemed to be a long way when White Eagle stopped and put a hand to Laramie’s chest.

“What is it?” Laramie whispered, the hair on the back of his neck lifting eerily.

“No light,” responded White Eagle.

“No light?”

“No candle,” repeated White Eagle.

Laramie felt his whole body tremble. Had something happened to Ariana? Was the whole effort in vain? He closed his eyes and willed strength back into his body. White Eagle began to move forward again.

They pushed their way through one last opening and entered a wider hole in the rocks. Laramie could see the pile of furs and blankets in the corner. Were they too late?

Then the blankets shifted. And she was looking at him, her eyes wide and terrified, pale cheeks stained from the cave dust mingled with her tears. Her hair hung about her shoulders in a tangled mass of uncombed curls, and her face looked gaunt.

“My candle went out,” she gasped, then with a look like a wild thing, she turned her face back into the furs and began to weep again, her whole body shaking.

“I had to crawl about in the dark to—” she continued along with the sobs. “I had to—”

But she could not go on. The two men exchanged glances. One felt as helpless as the other. What could they do to comfort her? How did one reassure a distraught woman? What unspeakable terrors had she experienced in the darkness of the cave?

It was White Eagle who moved forward, handing the lantern to a stunned Laramie.

He knelt on the rock floor beside her bed and reached out one hand to her shaking shoulder. “It’s over,” he crooned softly. “Over. Soon you go. Soon. You safe now. Alone no more. Safe now.”

As he talked he patted her shoulder rather clumsily and pushed back her hair. It reminded Laramie of one gentling a terror-stricken horse. Gradually the words and the human contact brought calm to the frightened girl. The sobs lessened. The shoulders stopped their shaking. Ariana began to fight for control.

“We light two candles,” offered White Eagle. “Three candles. We light whole cave.”

Ariana giggled—somewhat giddily—accompanied by hiccups. She forced her way up from the blankets and furs and dabbed at her face with a corner of the woolen throw.

“I was so scared,” she admitted, apologetically, without looking up. “I had waited so long—I didn’t know the way out—I thought you’d never come. Never.”

“We come,” said White Eagle—and he lit a fourth candle for good measure. “Tomorrow you go.”

Ariana seemed to ponder his statement. For the first time she lifted her eyes to Laramie. Her face was still pale, her cheeks smeared, her hair in tangles. “Is it true?” she asked simply.

He nodded. He was still afraid to speak. He had never seen anyone look so desperate before.

Self-consciously she pushed hair away from her face. For the first time she seemed to realize her present state of disarray.

“I can’t believe it,” she said at last, her hands fluttering nervously. “I…I thought I’d never see the light of day again.”

Laramie finally found his legs—and his voice. He moved forward with the lantern and set it on a small ledge of rock. The light spilled out in fanciful splashes, joining with the candles in lighting up the rock walls of the cave, making deeper shadows where the light did not reach.

“We’ll leave in the morning,” he promised her.

She fidgeted nervously and cast her eyes about the cave.

“I…I guess I can stand…one more night,” she finally managed and swallowed hard.

“I’ll stay,” said Laramie quickly, though he had intended to guard the cave’s mouth and watch for signals from the valley.

White Eagle nodded. He seemed to understand.

“Both sleep,” he said. “Long ride with new sun.”

White Eagle gathered his lantern and left them, admonishing them again to get a good sleep in preparation for the next day’s hard riding.

Laramie had nodded in agreement, but he wondered just how much sleep they would manage.

“When did you eat last?” he asked her.

Ariana looked puzzled. “I’m not sure,” she replied honestly. “I…I lose track of time.”

He nodded, then crossed to the food supply. It was almost gone.

“You’d better eat,” he said and handed her a piece of the pemmican, then went for the little pot of water.

She appeared calm now. He marveled at the difference in her as he watched her dutifully chew away at the tough meat.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he began. “It didn’t work like we’d planned.”

She sat silently.

“It must have been…” He couldn’t finish the thought. He didn’t really know what to say.

She looked up then. Her big eyes had lost their terror.

“I was fine until the candle went out,” she informed him. “At least…pretty good. I…I recited Scripture and prayed. I even sang…a little bit. But…after I lost the light…”

She shuddered and did not finish the comment.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

They sat silently. She was the first to speak.

“I can’t believe it…after all this time,” she began. “I can’t believe that I’m going home.”

He began to say something and then quickly closed his mouth.

“My mama will be so…so…” She lifted her head, framed by her tangled hair. In the near darkness her eyes looked deep and shining. She pulled up her knees and wrapped both arms around them. The candlelight caught her face, making her eyes sparkle. Her soft buckskin clothing blended into the shadows of the walls. She could have been an Indian princess as she sat regally on her bed of furs.

Laramie cleared his throat. He hated to break the spell. Wasn’t quite sure what he should say and how he should say it.

At last he took a deep breath and spoke with all of the gentleness he possessed.

“Ariana?”

It was the first time anyone had spoken her name in such a long time. She turned her full attention on his face.

He swallowed again.

“We won’t be going home,” he managed.

He winced at the look that came into her eyes.

Chapter Sixteen

At Last!

“
What do you mean?
” The words seemed to break as they rushed from her lips.

Laramie wanted to go to her—as White Eagle had done—but he did not stir. He was not sure he could have moved. Her eyes seemed to pin him to the spot.

“We can’t,” he managed, his own voice hoarse with emotion.

“But I thought—”

“I know, I know,” he quickly cut in, “an’ I wish it was thet way but—”

He did move then—but not toward her. He could not bear the look on her face. He turned his back slightly, his hand stealing up to push at the Stetson. When he had better control he turned back to face her again.

“I wouldn’t dare take ya home,” he said evenly. “Thet is the first place they’ll look. And they will continue to watch an’ wait for many days to come. I know—”

“But…what about…my folks?” Her voice still quivered.

“Once we’re out we’ll git word to them,” he said simply.

He thought he saw tears slide down her cheeks in the light of the fluttering candles, but he wasn’t sure.

She drew her knees closer to her chest and hugged them to her. Her head lowered toward them until he could no longer see her face. The tangled hair spilled about her, providing her with privacy in her deep hurt at his words.

“I’m sorry,” he managed.

He saw her shoulders tremble as she sat in silence—and then she seemed to give her shoulders a little shake. Her head came up again, and though he was sure now that he saw tears on her cheeks, her eyes looked at him frankly.

“What is the plan?” she asked. Her inner strength had returned.

Laramie felt more confused by her calm than he had been by her agitation.

What was the plan? Beyond the fact that he needed to get her out—away from the band that had confined her—what then? Edginess suddenly took hold of him. He had been so busy preparing for the escape that he had not thought much further.

“Is there anywhere—anyone else—that you know?” The idea came to him suddenly. He would have to take her to someone. He couldn’t just free her from her prisoners and leave her alone in a hostile world.

She seemed to give his question deep consideration. At length she answered, hesitantly at first, and then the words poured out.

“An uncle—my father’s brother—and his wife. I’m not sure—I’ve never met them—but Papa spoke of them. In Montana. Farmers. They live near a little town called…oh, dear…what is it now…Preston? Princeton? Oh, dear. It’ll come to me…I just—”

“Montana,” Laramie repeated. “Thet’s a fair piece away.”

Ariana looked apologetic. “They’re the only ones I can think of. I—”

He cut in quickly so she wouldn’t feel he had vetoed her suggestion. “Montana. Might be a good place to start over.”

The silence stretched out between them for several minutes. It was not an awkward moment. Each was busy with personal thoughts. The other was content to let it be so.