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Authors: Janette Oke

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A Gown of Spanish Lace (32 page)

BOOK: A Gown of Spanish Lace
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“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 Laramie 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.

BOOK: A Gown of Spanish Lace
5.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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