A Gown of Spanish Lace

by Janette Oke

  Ariana moved to put the last books on the shelf. It was a pleasant evening—with many promised hours of sunlight yet. She would have time to saddle the little roan and take a leisurely ride before Aunt Molly’s supper was served.

  A firm rap on the door brought Ariana to attention. She was not used to callers at the schoolhouse. Momentarily her heart began racing. She had not forgotten the men who had visited her over two years earlier and carried her captive. Ariana had a hard time finding her voice. She was not quite sure if she could bid the visitor enter.

  The door opened—just a crack at first. Ariana watched with her breath caught in her throat.

  Then the door pushed open farther—and there stood Laramie.

  He was clean-shaven with carefully trimmed hair. His clothes were not new but were clean and well kept. His eyes, which held a spark, seemed to look right into her soul.

  She caught her breath again. One word escaped her lips. “Laramie.”

  He moved forward slowly, his black Stetson in his hands. “May I…come in?” he asked softly.

  She nodded. She couldn’t speak. He looked—the same—yet so different.

  “You’ve come back,” she managed to whisper.

  He nodded. “You made me promise. Remember?”

  “I…yes.” Tears threatened to spill. He could see them coming.

  He stopped a few feet in front of her. Just stopped and looked at her.

  “You look…well,” he observed.

  She swallowed. “And you,” she managed.

  They stood in silence. Laramie struggled with words and then spoke softly. “You remember,” he began, “that I was to…find some answers. Find myself.”

  She nodded.

  “Well, I’ve done that,” he said simply and then added, “an’ in the process…I’ve found God, too.”

  She stood and looked at him and then the tears began to spill from her eyes. “Oh, Laramie…I’ve prayed and prayed. I was beginning to think—”

  “I was…afraid thet…thet you’d have given up. Thet—”

  She looked up into his face, her eyes shining in spite of the tears that still ran down her cheeks.

  “Oh no,” she said between tears and laughter. “I would have waited…forever…to hear those words, if need be. Nothing…could make me happier. We are…are…fellow believers now. Nothing…could bring me…more joy.”

  Laramie longed to reach for her. To brush the tears from her cheeks and bury his face in her hair. He did not dare. He knew he had no right to expect her to care for him in the way that he cared for her.

  He swallowed hard and willed himself to remain at a distance.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Adrift

  Laramie found a job with a local rancher and settled into the community. He was welcomed into the small congregation that met at the schoolhouse, and Ariana saw to it that he was put to work. To his surprise, Ariana seemed to assume that the situation had now changed—that the past was forgiven and could also be forgotten. She even managed, in a subtle way, to convey the idea that she expected him to call.

  Laramie was quick to oblige, and the young people were soon seen as a couple in the community. Even Uncle Jake and Aunt Molly expressed unspoken pleasure in the arrangement.

  Laramie could not have expressed his deep joy. It seemed that his unthinkable dream might indeed come true. It was hard to keep his love for Ariana in check when she greeted him with sparkling eyes and welcomed, with open pleasure, his evening calls. They spent many pleasurable hours by the fireplace, sharing thoughts and dreams, talking about the events past and their dreams for the future.

  Ariana would have been happy to marry quickly, and though Laramie was also anxious, he held himself back.

  “But why wait?” argued Ariana. “We both know that in our hearts we plan to—someday—marry.”

  “Not until I have earned enough money to at least provide us with some of the things we’ll be needin’,” he countered.

  Ariana smiled. “There’s little I need to make me happy,” she insisted.

  “But you would like a roof over yer head,” he teased.

  Ariana tipped her head and grinned saucily. “It might be fun to sleep under the stars.”

  “Until the first snowstorm.”

  “Perhaps we could borrow a tent—from White Eagle.”

  “White Eagle needs his tent. By now his papoose will have joined him. He is a true family man now.”

  Ariana smiled. She had never been happier. She wished White Eagle even a portion of the joy that she herself felt.

  “We do need to set a date,” she said, and she was no longer teasing. “I want Papa and Mama to be here. Papa will marry us, of course. An’ Mama and Aunt Molly will arrange the dinner for family and friends. They will need to know so they can make plans.”

  Laramie agreed.

  The summer was moving into autumn.

  “How about a Christmas wedding?” he asked Ariana.

  Ariana thought about it. It seemed a long time to wait. At last she smiled. A Christmas wedding would be just fine.

  “I’ll let them know,” said Ariana. “I do hope they will come early.”

  Laramie reached out to smooth back her windblown hair. They had ridden out to the ridge overlooking the small farm that belonged to her uncle. The day was just warm enough to be comfortable. The last of the summer crops bowed their heads to the passing breezes. The birds filled the afternoon with spirited chatter.

  “It’s so peaceful here—I love it,” mused Laramie in contentment.

  “Can we live here—always?” asked Ariana dreamily.

  “Always,” he answered.

  Ariana moved in closer to him until her shoulder was touching his chest. “I never dreamed I could be so…happy,” she sighed.

  His hand dropped to her arm and pulled her closer against him. He lowered his head to place a kiss on the top of her tousled hair. “It is still like a…a dream,” he said.

  “When did you first know?” she quizzed him.

  He smiled and gave her a little squeeze. “Is that important?”

  “Sort of. I just wondered.”

  “I…it was after I’d shot the snake. I was afraid. I suddenly realized thet if somethin’ happened to you…thet I would…suffer terribly. Thet you were much more than a…prisoner thet I was bound to free. I loved you. I realized thet then.”

  Ariana stirred dreamily.

  “That’s when I first knew, too,” she told him.

  She turned and reached up to run a finger gently along the scar. “And to think that I might have never met you. That you could have died…as a baby. You know, I owe Will Russell so much. For saving you, then for…for kidnapping me.”

  She giggled. “That sounds like a silly thing to say, doesn’t it? But it…it turned out very well…don’t you think?”

  He nodded, his heart too full for an answer.

  “You know,” went on Ariana, “our backgrounds really aren’t that different. Both orphans. Both lost our folks in an Indian raid. Rather ironic—or coincidental—don’t you think?”

  Laramie nodded, his head bent over Ariana’s.

  “Well, all that’s behind us. Now…now we have the whole future ahead of us. We can…can make up for all the past…in the years ahead.” She sighed deeply.

  “God has been good,” said Laramie.

  “He has. Laramie—” Ariana caught herself and laughed softly. “You know,” she hastened on, “it’s hard for me to…to switch to Burke. I like that name. Burke. It’s just that I’ve always thought of you as…Laramie. Will you mind if I slip now and then?”

  Laramie smiled good-naturedly. “It’s hard fer me, too,” he admitted. “It takes some gettin’ used to. I still have to stop and think when I go to sign my name or even when someone speaks to me. I guess we’ll get used to it in time.”

  Ariana nodded. “It’s hard to make a change—as an adult.”

  They stood in silence for a few minutes and then Lar
amie spoke. “What if we keep the Laramie? It seems thet…well thet I owe thet much to my…pa. He did do his best. He could have jest left me to die. It must have been an awful nuisance fer a man like him…to raise a child.”

  Ariana smiled. “Mrs. Laramie Burke Lawrence,” she said softly. “It sounds just fine to me.”

  Laramie worked hard and saved his money for his upcoming marriage. They would not be wealthy—but neither was anyone else on the prairies. At least they would be together.

  Ariana, too, was saving each penny she could from her small stipend as a schoolteacher. She was certain they would manage just fine. Her uncle Jake had given them a small parcel of land down by the creek and neighbors had promised a house raising just as soon as the crops were out of the fields. Ariana was fully confident they would have a snug little dwelling all their own by the time their important day in December arrived.

  Her mother and father arrived two weeks before the wedding. Ariana was so excited when she met their stage that she thought she was acting like one of her first-graders.

  “Oh, I’m so anxious for you to meet him,” she bubbled. “I know that you’re going to love him just as much—well, almost as much as I do.”

  Her papa smiled and her mama held her close. “I knew it,” she insisted. “I could sense you were in love with him when we were here before.”

  “Oh, Mama,” laughed Ariana. “I scarcely admitted it myself then.”

  “Well, I knew it. You can’t hide the look of a girl in love.”

  Ariana laughed joyfully. “We’re going to need to fix that gown,” she reminded her mother. “Did you bring the satin?”

  “Oh yes. I didn’t forget. Perhaps Molly will do the sewing. She is much better with a needle than I am.”

  Ariana fairly skipped her way back to the house. In only two short weeks she would finally be Mrs. Laramie Burke Lawrence. It still seemed like an impossible, beautiful dream.

  “Ariana?”

  It was Laramie who called.

  “In here,” she answered, her cheeks flushing with pleasure. She and her aunt Molly were busy at the kitchen table, studying the lace wedding gown, figuring just how to cut the satin for the new cuffs.

  “I suppose we could undo this cuff and see just how it is put together. We would then have a pattern,” Aunt Molly was saying.

  Laramie stood in the doorway. Ariana looked up and smiled.

  “It’s okay,” she assured him. “I’m not superstitious. You can see the gown before the wedding day.”

  He moved forward then. He knew nothing about gowns—but the gown that hung before him looked beautiful.

  “You’ll be…wearing that?” he questioned, his eyes traveling from the gown to Ariana and then back again.

  She nodded, excitement flushing her cheeks and making her eyes shine.

  He reached for her hand. “I had no idea—I mean, I’ve never seen a wedding gown before. I had no idea they were so…so…”

  Ariana laughed joyfully. “They aren’t—always,” she admitted. “It just happens that you are seeing the…the most beautiful gown in all the Americas.” She laughed again. “It’s special—even for a wedding gown. Imported lace—right from Spain. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  He nodded. “I can hardly wait to see you in it,” he said quietly.

  “Well, first, we have this little problem,” stated Ariana.

  “What is that?”

  “This sleeve. See how that other cuff is? It buttons on. This one is missing.”

  “Can you make another?” Laramie inquired with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “Not to match. We’d never match the lace. So we have to make two new ones—out of the satin. We’re just trying to figure out if the cut is on the bias or—”

  Laramie leaned closer and took another look. He frowned.

  “Wait a minute,” he said as he reached to finger the material. “I jest might have something to help you. I’m almost sure—”

  Ariana looked at him in surprise.

  “In my ma’s little chest. I saw a scrap of material—almost like that. I don’t think someone would notice any little bit of difference.”

  Ariana’s eyes took on a shine.

  “Could you get it?” she asked hurriedly. “It would be wonderful if we could keep the cuffs—”

  “I’ll go home and pick it up,” he assured her. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  Laramie retrieved the small chest from its place of safety and flipped up the lid. He was anxious to get back to Ariana.

  Hurriedly he put aside the small baby gown and fumbled through the hankies, searching for the bit of material he had seen in the box. He did hope that he hadn’t inadvertently lost it.

  He was almost at the bottom of the box before he found it. He smiled with relief and drew it forth.

  Yes. He had been right. The lace looked very much like the lace of Ariana’s gown. He smiled again. She would be so pleased.

  Laramie was about to tuck the scrap of material in his shirt pocket when something caught his eye. A tiny button.

  His eyes widened and he brought the material closer. Another button. And another.

  He stared, not able to believe what his eyes were seeing. In his hand he held the missing cuff. It could only mean one thing.

  His legs gave out on him and Laramie lowered himself to his bunk, his face in his hands. A wave of nausea passed through him, making him feel sick inside. Did he and Ariana share the same mother? It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. He loved Ariana. They were to be married. He felt inner pain as he had never felt before in his entire life.

  His first temptation was to destroy the little cuff and say it had been lost.

  But reason and honesty won the battle. That would not be fair. It would not be right. He could never live with the fact. Nor would Ariana ever forgive him if he tried.

  One simply could not marry one’s own sister. He lifted his head and stared—unseeing—before him. He would have to tell her. Would have to tell them all.

  He hated the thought of the whole ordeal.

  Why? Why? When everything seemed to have finally worked out for good?

  Laramie dropped his head in his hands again and groaned. Where are you, God? How could you let this happen? Why didn’t you let us know we were brother and sister right from the start? Then our relationship could have been thet of family—good and proper.

  Laramie groaned again. He had never, in his lifetime, been struck such a cruel blow.

  Ariana paced back and forth on the porch of her aunt’s farm home. Laramie was taking longer than she had expected. Was he having trouble finding the material? It would be so nice to have the cuffs matching—or even nearly matching. It would be so nice to keep the dress as close as possible to the gown her mother had worn. She did hope that Laramie was right. That the cuff would not need to be changed to satin.

  She hesitated and looked out over the country road in the gathering twilight. Laramie was still not in sight.

  She sighed and paced some more.

  She hoped nothing bad had happened. What if his horse had spooked? What if the law had suddenly appeared? No, that was silly. Laramie had said that he had confessed and been pardoned. Nothing like that would happen now.

  Just as Ariana felt she could stand the uncertainty no longer, she saw Laramie’s buckskin appear around the bend in the road. In her agitation she felt like running out to meet him. But that would be silly. She held herself in check. He would be with her soon enough.

  She tapped one foot against the porch boards, impatience making it hard for her to wait. The warm evening breeze played with her hair, wisping it about her oval face.

  At last Laramie pulled up and threw the reins over the hitching rail. He came toward her. Ariana beamed and moved to meet him.

  “Will it work? Is the lace pattern close enough?” she called as the distance between them closed.

  In the semidarkness Ariana could barely see his face. When he drew near enough she saw
he was pale and drawn. Something had happened. Ariana felt her heart beat faster. Was it just his disappointment that the lace wasn’t right?

  He said nothing—just reached out his hand to her. In his palm was the bit of lace. Ariana took it and turned it over in her fingers.

  “It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t match,” she began. “Don’t feel badly if—”

  Ariana looked more closely.

  “It looks—very close,” she said and looked up at Laramie.

  He still was ashen—silent. She could not understand.

  “Ariana…it doesn’t just…match the cuff,” he said softly in a choked, forced voice. “It is the cuff.”

  Her eyes widened. She looked into his face with disbelief.

  “It is the cuff,” he repeated. “Look. It has the tiny buttons.”

  Ariana’s gaze went back to the bit of lace. She turned it over and over. First unbelief, then delight, filled her eyes.

  “Why, that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Who would have ever believed it? Who would have ever imagined? The real missing cuff. Isn’t it wonderful! Isn’t God good!”

  She threw her arms around Laramie’s neck. Her warm tears of joy fell on his cheek.

  Gently he pushed her from him. “Ariana…listen to me.”

  She looked at him, shock in her eyes. What had happened? What was wrong?

  “I found the cuff…in my mother’s box.”

  She nodded.

  “My…mother’s.”

  She looked puzzled.

  “It matches your mother’s dress. Exactly.”

  She took one tiny step backward, still staring at him.

  “You don’t mean—?” she began, but she did not finish.

  He nodded.

  “But it can’t be,” she almost screamed at him. “It—can’t be.”

  “Ariana—”

  She looked at him for one moment, her eyes wild and denying. His own tears were tracing the pattern on his cheek where Ariana’s tears had been such a short while ago.