Fort Laramie (14 page)

They made love then. And he spanked her for vandalizing his tires, and then they made love again. It was past noon before they made it to the fort.

The rest of the week was uneventful. The interns had grown in their skills, sharing their knowledge with confidence and enthusiasm. It tickled Tom to no end that the scariest among them - Chayton - was the favorite among the children. The adults were fascinated by his friend Adrian's skill at the forge. They admired the sculptures he created on the side - although the artwork was definitely postmodern, and not like anything that would have been created in the nineteenth century. He had sold a few pieces as well, giving his fragile artist's ego a much needed boost. Their girlfriends, Julie and Carrie, had behaved themselves and had made it four whole days without a spanking. He was chuckling to himself, wondering if four days was about the maximum they could go. Maybe he'd have to special order a paddle - or ask Adrian to make one for him- out of wood, not iron!

It was late in the afternoon before a tourist said something that burst his happy bubble. She looked a little familiar - a visitor who had been there earlier in the week. "Colonel Burt, if you will, would you give your wife a message for me," she said, smiling brightly. She knew the woman portraying Elisabeth Burt wasn't really his wife, but she wouldn't know that they were romantically involved. "Certainly. What's this about?"

"Well, she asked me to teach her how to spin. It would be very useful, you know, to share that, with the children especially. I used to portray Elisabeth Burt, you know. I was just a volunteer, but I used to come here every summer and I did so love to sit there and spin for hours, answering a thousand questions from the little ones. Anyway, I couldn't teach her while she's working -there were too many interruptions! So I wanted to invite her to my house this weekend. Maybe she could come on Saturday and spend the night? I think after a couple of weekends with me, she'll be a pro. She's so smart! I'm sure she'll catch on quickly."

Tom felt his smile freeze on his face. She'd lied! She'd lied to him, and continued to lie to him! He could almost forgive her for the original lie, lying on her application just to get the position. She hadn't known for sure that she would have had the internship even if she couldn't spin, or couldn't cook, or couldn't even count to ten. Tom liked her, admired her enthusiasm for history and he wanted her on his team. But after she got here, after she got to know him, how could she keep it from him? And worse... what kind of a future could they have, if they couldn't be honest with each other?

"She'll be there bright and early Saturday morning, and she can stay the weekend. I'll pick her up on Monday. How's that?"

The woman smiled and thanked him, then hurried on her way.

He didn't say anything to Carrie that night. She sensed he was upset about something, but he gave her every opportunity to come clean. She remained silent, so he did as well. Two could play that game. Then Saturday morning he told her to pack a bag, they were going in to town. She asked him where they were going, and what were they going to do, and didn't they have to work? They worked six days a week, taking only Sundays off, but here he was planning a getaway for the two of them? Tom didn't answer. He was too angry with her to speak. And hurt that she obviously didn't respect him still.

She climbed onto the front seat, forcing a smile, although in her heart she had to know there was something seriously wrong between them. She waved goodbye to Julie as he drove off. All the way into town she kept trying to talk to him. He let her chatter away mindlessly. Then he pulled up in front of the address the old woman had given him. "Here you are, Carrie," he said, dropping her bag onto the ground. "This woman offered to teach you how to spin. I'll see you on Monday, and then you have some explaining to do."

"Oh, God, Tom, you know!" she cried.

"Yes. I know."

"I'm so sorry-."

"Save it. I don't want to hear your excuses right now. I'm too angry to talk about it. Good bye.” And he drove off, hardening his heart to her tearful pleas.

Carrie shouldered her bag and hobbled to the front door. She wiped her eyes, trying to make a smile appear on her face. Damn him! He shouldn't leave like this - angry with her. They should talk about it! Although, she'd had ample time to do just that, and she'd put it off again and again. How could she tell the man she loved that she had lied? That she was a fraud? That her failures had repeatedly hurt his program, and continued to hurt him. Maybe it would be better for everyone if she just called it quits and went home.

The woman was smiling when she answered the door, but her smile quickly faded. "Oh, honey, what's wrong?"

If she had ignored her, Carrie would have been fine. If she had politely pretended she didn't notice the tears in Carrie's eyes, she might have been able to hold them back, but the woman's caring tone opened the floodgates.

"It's just awful," she said, and poured out her heart to the virtual stranger.

The woman listened to it all without comment. She made a pot of tea, pouring a cup for each of them when it had steeped enough.

"So you care about him," she said, when Carrie had run out of things to say.

Carrie nodded. She wiped her nose on the tissue the woman handed her.

"Well, honey girl, it's a hard lesson to learn, and some folks never learn it. You see, there is no such thing as a little white lie. Lies are ugly things. They are big, and they grow and grow and grow. They swell up the longer they are kept in the dark, like mushrooms growing on a pile of compost, until they are so big that they just explode and cover everyone in a thick layer of disgusting goo. You must never tell a lie - not even a small one - to the man you love."

"But what do I do now? He'll never forgive me."

"He will, if he loves you. Just give him time to cool off. You hurt his pride. He thought he knew you, and you kept this from him. He'll get over it. Now, let's go fix this real fast. I'm going to turn you into a fantastic spinner in no time!"

The woman - Elisabeth, just like Colonel Burt's wife - taught her how to card the raw sheep's wool. The carded wool, when it was rolled from the combs was called a rolag - she had looked it up, because she couldn't remember it herself. Then she showed her how to use a simple drop spindle to turn the rolags into yarn. Carrie’s first yarns were uneven, sometimes too thick, then too thin. Elisabeth had laughed - she did that a lot - and said that fancy spinners had to try hard to make specialty yarns like that, and here she did it naturally. Carrie smiled, she couldn't help it. Elisabeth's eternal optimism was contagious. After several hours, they took their lunch in the garden in the back yard, where Elisabeth showed off her other hobby - a verdant garden bursting with color. She was a master gardener, and even the hot and dry conditions of the harsh Wyoming environment couldn't prevent her flowers from blooming. They returned to the drop spindle, practicing over and over, and by nightfall, even Carrie thought her yarns were looking better. Then Sunday morning Elisabeth let her graduate to the spinning wheel. It was trickier than the drop spindle, because now she had to use her feet as well as her hands, but the spinning wheel produced a better product. By Sunday night, Elisabeth pronounced her a proficient spinner. "You'll know if you're hooked soon enough," Elisabeth explained. "Some folks learn to spin, and then they're done. They're happy enough to buy their yarns in the future. But others, well, they never quit learning. The more they learn, the more they want to know, and they get to enjoying the spinning so much, that they never have time to knit all the lovely yarns they create."

"I can never thank you enough," Carrie confessed.

"You already have, child," Elisabeth said, giving her a grandmotherly hug and kiss. "Just pass along what I taught you. That's thanks enough."

Carrie enjoyed a warm bubble bath that night, and even let her foot get wet. It had mostly healed, although she didn't let her foot soak long enough to soften the scab. She climbed into the guest bed piled high with fluffy pillows and quilts, in spite of the dessert heat, and tried to sleep. Tomorrow she would have to talk to Tom and try to explain why she hadn't been able to tell him the truth. She had no idea what she was going to say... she only hoped that he'd be patient long enough for her to get it out.

Tom was there by nine o'clock Monday morning. He put her bag in the van, and helped her inside, buckling her seatbelt.

"I've missed you," Carrie said, offering him a tearful smile.

"Good. I missed you, too," Tom said flatly. He was still angry, but at least he was talking now.

"Tom, I'm sorry I lied on my application. It was just so important to me, and I thought I could learn how to spin before the summer, so it wasn't really a lie..."

"Yes, it was," he interrupted her.

"Yes, it was. But at the time, I reasoned with myself, that I wasn't lying. I was just promising something that I didn't know I wasn't going to be able to deliver."

"It's okay. I forgive you for the original lie. What I don't understand is why you didn't tell me the truth after you got here. After we started being together... after I told you how much you mean to me. Is our relationship just not that important to you?"

"Oh, Tom! It's not that at all! You mean too much to me, and it scares the hell out of me! I didn't want this. I didn't want a relationship. I wanted to party, to be single a while longer - I didn't want to worry about a relationship! But here you are, and here we are. I love you, and now I don't want to lose you. But I just didn't know how to tell you without making you angry, and so it was easier to ignore it."

"Are you that afraid of getting spanked?"

"No, Tom. I just didn't want to make you angry. I didn't want to hurt you."

He pulled into the campground and parked. He helped her out of the van and held her. "I will get angry sometimes, Carrie. I'm only human. And couples fight. And they forgive each other, and then they make up. But I don't want you to be afraid to talk to me ever again. Got it? And while we're at it, are there any more secrets? Anything else you need to tell me, then tell me right now, and we'll deal with it."

"There's nothing, Tom. Nothing, except that I love you."

"You sure have a funny way of showing it."

"I know. But give me a break. I'm younger than you. I'll make mistakes, and then I'll learn, and I'll make new mistakes. No matter how much I grow, I'm always going to be eight years younger than you. Can you be patient with me?"

"I'll try, baby. I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

He kissed her hard. It was a mistake, because her spanking was going to have to wait now until after they'd made love. But she'd get her spanking, for sure. She'd really earned it this time. He was going to spank her long and hard, and then teach her how to cut a switch. He would give her one stroke for every day that she'd keep this secret, starting from the first day of the internship - not from last winter when she'd filled out the application. That was two full weeks. Fourteen stripes with a switch. Then he'd kiss every single welt, and he'd kiss away her tears. And they would probably make love again. Being married to her was going to be one hell of a ride.

The internship program was a huge success. Even though it had a rocky beginning with Carrie’s trip to the emergency room, and the visitors reporting on her rudeness, and a few other mishaps along the way, the general response was overwhelmingly positive. Tom tucked the last receipt into his folder and shelved the entire project. It was done now. He’d typed it up and submitted it. He wasn’t worried about the outcome. They would like it or not. They could accept his dissertation, or not. It didn’t matter. He’d done what he’d set out to do and he was satisfied.

Julie and Adrien were official. They were married the last weekend in August in what had to have been the most fun, most non-traditional wedding Tom had ever attended. The bride and groom wore beautifully embroidered garments in white and green and bare feet as they exchanged their vows beneath a quilted awning in the middle of a friend’s apple orchard. The guests were brought out there by horse-drawn carriage. The bride and her bride’s maid carried simple bouquets of sunflowers tied with a band of lace.

A fiddler provided the music, which sounded Celtic.  And after the vows were said and the wedding was concluded with the kiss, then they were all treated to a fantastic picnic. In place of the standard American fare of fried chicken or potato salad, they had smoke salmon, fancy cheeses, heirloom breads and bottles of wine. It was casual, yet special, unique and artsy, but unpretentious. It was absolutely perfect for the temperamental artist and the former ice princess.

He and Carrie were engaged. He had proposed to her after returning from the internship, after she’d returned to her home, so she could have a bit of distance from him before making the most important decision of her life. He promised her a long engagement, although she was the one pushing him to move the date up. Now that she’d made up her mind about getting married, she wanted to leap right into it! But Tom knew that it was worth the wait. She had wanted time to be single, time to have fun, and so he would give her that time – together. He was planning to take her to Europe over Christmas break, as she’d never been out of the country, but they were going to exchange their gifts here first, surrounded by her family.

He had picked out a special gift for her. It was hard to wrap, so it was hidden behind her parents’ Christmas tree, wrapped in a colorful quilt and topped with a big bow. He was going to pick her up soon, and they would drive out to her family home together. He’d met her parents already. They liked him, after they got over their initial reservation that he was so much older than she was. Her dad had had a long talk with him, making sure that Tom would keep her best interests in mind, be a good man to her, take care of her and nurture her. Tom liked her dad a lot.

Meeting her family helped him understand her a little better. At one time he had thought she was a bit of a princess herself – thinking only of herself, but later he realized that she didn’t think of herself at all. If she did something stupid, it was because she simply didn’t think. She was the middle child of a large family, and often felt insignificant. Her parents were good people, they meant well, but even they acknowledged that she had at times been lost in the shuffle. She’d come along at a time in their marriage when things were rather rocky, and neither of them had had much time for her. Then when things were better again, more children came along. They loved her – but she had somehow grown up feeling less important than her siblings. Tom would spend the rest of his life showing her just how important she was to him!

He brushed his hair and teeth, tucked in his shirt, and then pocketed his wallet and keys. Yes, he’d set his bicycle aside and bought a car. He couldn’t very well take her out on a date on his handlebars. He hated driving in the Madison traffic, but it was a small price to pay for the pleasure of her company. Luckily, her parents lived on the northeast side where traffic was less congested.

He pulled up in front of her dormitory, then pressed number 5 on his cellphone – the number he’d reserved for that special someone. “I’m here, honey,” he said, when she answered.

“I’ll be right down! Just give me a minute,” she said breathlessly.

Tom chuckled. He parked, then went to the front doors and waited by the receptionist’s desk. He didn’t have to wait long. She was true to her word. If she said she’d be a minute, it was no more than a minute! He liked that about her. She’d learned that even little white lies were still lies, and she was scrupulously honest with him now.

She was a vision of beauty as she stepped out of the elevator. Her wild mane had been roped into a thick French braid, a large red bow died at the nape of her neck. She looked so festive in a Christmas-red dress, a small white jacket looped over her arm. Her shoes were fancy – impractical for a Wisconsin winter, but he kept spare winter clothes for her in the back of the car – just in case, which included boots, socks, snow pants, the whole bit.

“Good evening, Tom,” she said demurely. Her eyes were lit up with excitement, and in her hand was a gift box. They had gone Christmas shopping together weeks ago, the gifts were already under her parents’ tree. Tom guessed that this was meant for him, a suspicion that she verified moments later as she handed it to him with a kiss.

“Should I bring this to your folks’ house?”

“No. Open it here, please,” she said.

“In the car, then?”

“No! Here! I want to see your face when you open it,” she said.

His curiosity was peaked. He tore off the pretty bow and colored paper, then lifted the lid to reveal a pair of hand-knit woolen mittens. The yarn was the same color as the sheep wool she’d been spinning all summer long at the fort. They weren’t perfect like store-bought gloves. They were more than perfect. He loved the occasional lumps in the yarn, knowing how hard she had worked to perfect her skill. He swallowed another lump in his throat.

“Do you like them?” she asked anxiously.

“Yes, dear. Very much,” he said. He pulled her in for a hug and kissed her thoroughly. Then he drew back and tried on the mittens. “Perfect,” he announced. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she said.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Carrie,” he said.

“No, I do. Really. I just – well – after that kiss, I can think of better things to do than spend the evening with my parents!”

Tom chuckled. “Who says we can’t have it all? I’m taking you back to my place later.”

He’d invited her to move in with him, but she wasn’t quite ready yet. Maybe next year. The dorm was more centrally located, and she could walk to her classes. If she lived at his new apartment, she’d have to get a car. Besides, living in a dorm was one of life’s experiences, and he wanted to her experience them all.

The streets were oddly quiet on this Christmas Eve. A light snow was falling, coating the crusty mounds of brownish snow in a fresh blanket of white. Little haloes of gold suspended from every streetlight. Tom turned on the radio to quiet strains of O Holy Night.

“I love you, Carrie,” he said sincerely.

She smiled. “I know. I love you, too.”

He never got tired of hearing her say that.

Soon they were at her parents’ house. The driveway was crowded. All of her many siblings were there with their spouses or girlfriends, and some of them had little children of their own already. Her mother gathered their coats and added them to the enormous pile on top of her bed. The grandchildren shrieked, grabbing “Uncle” Tom around his knees and begging him for horsey rides. There was almost no place to sit, as both couches, the love seat, and all of the dining room chairs were occupied. Carrie’s dad brought out a kitchen chair for him, and he tugged Carrie onto his lap. She readily complied.

The little ones tore open their gifts first, amid gleeful shrieks and happy laughter. Then the siblings exchanged their gifts – having drawn names instead everyone gifting everyone. Carrie’s parents were thrilled with their tickets for a cruise to the Bahamas – a gift all of the siblings had gone together on. And finally, it was time for Carrie’s gift. It was the only one left. The little children were silent, having fallen asleep on various laps around the room. The siblings were oddly curious. Carrie’s parents knew what the gift was, since they had helped Tom wrap it in one of their quilts. Tom brought it out from behind the tree.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he said.

She grinned at him. “Now, Tom, what did you get? It’s so big!”

“Open it and find out.”

She did, gasping in joy. Tears filled her eyes and trickled down her face. She swiped them away, throwing her arms around him and kissing him thoroughly, even in front of her siblings. “I love it! I simply love it! Oh, Tom, that was so thoughtful of you!”

He smiled, relieved. He thought he’d guessed right, but sometimes, he wasn’t sure. It had been a turning point in their relationship, when they almost didn’t make it. But after that point, things had only gotten better for them. And now – now they were rock solid. He knew that they would have their happily ever after.

She hugged him, and gazed lovingly at her new gift. “Thank you, so much, Tom,” she said.

There, in the middle of the Christmas chaos of her large family’s home, was a spinning wheel.

The end.