The Visions of Ransom Lake

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “You mean for this faultless lover you dream of?” Yvonne asked. Vaden nodded. “But, Vaden…you expect so much in your dreams. No one is perfect, Vay. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I’m afraid you’ll let life pass you by. You need to live more for the moment and not look so much to what you hope the future will bring to you.”

  “I know, Vonnie. I know. But…but it’s me. My heart whispers it to me. There is such a man for me, Vonnie. Oh, no one is perfect…I realize that. I’m not saying I want the man to be perfect. I just want him to be perfect for me. And I know he exists, whether I find him now or in ten years or in twenty. He’s there, somewhere. I know he is.”

  “You must think me so shallow…so heartless, Vay. But I’m not. Truly,” Yvonne sighed.

  “I know you’re not,” Vaden assured her sister. “Just as you watch me stumble into ridiculous situation after ridiculous situation, put up ever patiently with my spontaneous whims of adventure, and still you know my soul…I know yours. I know it must be wonderful to be the most beautiful woman in the room and have every man in it at your beckon call. Yet I know that you want the same things I want out of life—a husband who was begotten only for you, who will father children with you, and together they will all bring you boundless joy and fulfillment. I do know that, Vonnie.”

  Yvonne smiled at Vaden. “How I love you, little sister.”

  “And I love you, big sister.”

  Yvonne closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply. “Someone’s burning cedar in their hearth tonight. Isn’t it a heavenly fragrance?”

  Vaden closed her eyes and lay down on her bed. “Heavenly!” she sighed. She imagined a fireplace in a cozy house. She imagined sitting before it watching the fire burn and crackle, wrapped securely in strong, capable, masculine arms. “I wonder why he tears away his sleeves,” she whispered aloud a moment before sleep overtook her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Well, I have to say it,” Dan stated one morning at breakfast. “I just have to say I don’t know what we did for fun before you girls arrived.”

  “I’ll second that,” Myra agreed. “You girls make the days brighter and the nights warmer. And what a swarm of young people we’ve had ’round since you two moved in! I swear, I think Jerome Clayton is plumb gone on you, Vaden. And every other bachelor in the state must be camping out across the street waitin’ for Vonnie to come out of the mercantile so they can catch a glimpse of her!”

  Yvonne smiled. “Everyone in town has been very friendly and accepting.”

  “Everyone except Belva Tibbits,” Vaden corrected.

  “Belva Tibbits don’t count,” Dan chuckled. “Her nose is too long, and her eyes are too far apart.”

  “Now, Daniel,” Myra scolded, trying in vain to suppress a smile.

  “She’s only jealous because Jerome Clayton is Vaden’s beau,” Yvonne stated.

  “Jerome Clayton is not my beau, Yvonne. And you know it!” Vaden felt overly defensive. For the past two weeks, she had been mercilessly teased by her Uncle Dan and Yvonne. Jerome Clayton appeared at least once a day in the mercantile, claiming to have just stopped in for a visit with Dan. He stared at Vaden all through church on Sundays too, and though Vaden knew he was every girl’s ambition, she could not commit herself to the idea of being too involved with him. At times his consistent and obvious attentions caused her unbearable discomfort. He was too attentive, and often the expression in his eyes sent a nervous shiver down her spine. Perhaps, she had mused over and over, it was merely because she wasn’t used to such intent attention from a particular young man. Everyone adored Jerome Clayton and sang his praises at every turn. However, Vaden felt differently. Somehow, she wasn’t sure she trusted him. Furthermore, ever in the back of her mind lingered the image of Ransom Lake, and she secreted a profound curiosity about him—a need to know him. Ever he was in Vaden’s thoughts—quiet, alone, and tragic. Her mind never lingered on Jerome Clayton that way—never.

  Suddenly, at the sound of Dan’s jolly voice again, Vaden once more returned her attention to the conversation going on around her.

  “It seems we’ve got young folks under foot here and there every free minute of the day. I just can’t believe it’s been two weeks since you girls got here. How time does fly,” Dan said, continuing to chew his toast.

  Vaden and Yvonne had made several friends among the girls in town since their arrival. And they did have prospective suitors buzzing around like bees to honey. Yet this only served to remind Vaden that Ransom Lake hadn’t shown his face anywhere near the town citizenship since the day he’d been in the store to buy boots. Often, when she had free time or Yvonne and Myra sent her out on a walk, she would sit in the largest maple tree on the creek bank near the old bridge or on the bridge itself. She’d let her bare toes skim across the water’s top and watch the road she knew led from town to Ransom Lake’s farm, hoping to catch a glimpse of the strange man who kept to himself. But she hadn’t seen him and had almost given up hope of ever seeing him again.

  “Vaughn Wimber says he’s gonna start his punkin harvest next couple or three weeks, Vaden. I knew you’d be lookin’ forward to that.” Dan winked affectionately at his niece as she looked up and smiled. “Maybe you and Yvonne could go out and choose a few of the biggest and best to buy for us to use or sell in the mercantile.”

  “I’d love it, and you know it,” Vaden admitted, returning her attention to the conversation.

  “I thought ya might.”

  As quickly as her attention had been arrested, it was lost. She thought of having finally met, and distinguished in her mind, the two Wimber families in town. One was the Vaughn Wimber family. Vaughn owned the pumpkin patch. He and his wife, Sue Ellen, were Nathaniel’s parents. They had two younger daughters as well who had been in the mercantile several times. Raylin and Selma’s parents were Kent Wimber, Vaughn’s brother, and his wife, Margaret. This family had three young children as well as a new baby. Though Vaughn Wimber owned the massive pumpkin patch outside of town and Vaden admired him for it, it was Selma and Raylin’s family Vaden favored.

  “Well, I gotta get goin’, Myra,” Dan said, folding his napkin and placing it on the table next to his plate. “I told ol’ Ransom Lake I’d deliver those supplies he ordered today.”

  Everyone jumped as Vaden’s fork fell from her hand, clanking loudly as it hit the edge of her plate and tumbled to the floor.

  “Why don’t you take Vaden with you, Uncle Dan? She’s been a bit edgy lately and needs to get out,” Yvonne suggested, winking at her sister.

  “Could ya do without her for a couple of hours, Myra?” Dan grinned at Vaden. He knew Vaden desperately preferred the out-of-doors to being inside.

  “Of course. I know she’ll come back all rosy-cheeked and ready to work like the dickens afterward. Right, sweet pea?” Myra grinned, for she too knew how much Vaden needed fresh air to motivate her.

  “I promise!” Vaden squealed.

  Vaden could hardly believe her Uncle Dan was actually taking her to see Ransom Lake. Of course, he wasn’t actually taking her to see the man, but she would see him, and that was all that mattered.

  

  “You take after your daddy, Vaden,” Dan commented as he and Vaden rode along in the wagon. “And after me. I hate bein’ cooped up in the house all the durn time. Gets me fidgety and irritable. You’ve been workin’ hard since ya been here, and I knew ya needed to get out.”

  Vaden reached over and linked her arm through her uncle’s. “Look at the beauty of that patch, Uncle Dan.” The pumpkin patch was on either side of them now, and the beautiful squash seemed to glow orange from beneath the leaves. “Doesn’t it just give you all the more reason to appreciate God’s creations?”

  “That it does, sweet pea. That it does.”

  They rode in silence then, for they were alike. Both enjoyed the beauty of nature, the autumn scents in the air, the cool, crisp breezes. Before Vaden knew it, Uncle Dan was reining the team in before a small, white
, cozy-looking farmhouse. A large black dog barked and ran to the wagon, wagging its tail and panting happily.

  “Hey there, Ragamuffin. How ya doin’ today?” Dan climbed down out of the wagon and scratched the dog’s belly. As Vaden climbed from the wagon, she too crouched down to pet the dog.

  “He certainly seems happy,” she said as the dog licked her hand.

  “Mornin’, Dan.” Looking under the wagon, Vaden saw a pair of familiar-looking boots approaching from the direction of the house. The sound of Ransom Lake’s voice as he uttered a greeting sent a thrill traveling through her.

  “I’ve got your supplies together, Ransom. Ya sure are stockin’ up thorough for winter. It looks about like what ya take when ya winter in the mountains. You are plannin’ to stay out here all winter, aren’t ya?” Vaden looked up at her uncle as he spoke but remained crouched down petting the dog. For some reason, she was uncertain as to whether she wanted to face Ransom Lake again.

  “I am winterin’ here. Just like to be prepared, ”Ransom Lake replied. When he walked in front of the team and came to stand before her uncle, Vaden noticed his eyes narrowed with a frown when he glanced down and saw her. Instantly, she was startled, for he wore only his boots, trousers, and suspenders—no shirt! Vaden was unsure if she could keep her composure under such a circumstance. It was obviously no fault of Ransom Lake’s that he should appear in such a state of undress. He would have had no reason to think anyone other than her uncle would deliver his supplies. Still, it was the first time Vaden had had a view of a man’s bare anatomy.

  “Good morning, Mr. Lake,” she managed to sputter at last, standing and offering her hand. The man continued to frown, making no move to accept and shake her extended hand. He simply nodded and looked back to her uncle.

  “Ya missed quite a town social a couple weeks back, Ransom,” Dan said as he walked to the wagon and lifted out a sack of flour. “Dancin’, pies, pretty girls—just about everything a man could want.” Dan handed the sack of flour to Ransom Lake, who hefted it onto his shoulder, walked to the house, and set it down on the front porch. “’Course, I know ya don’t go in much for social gatherin’s…but still, the pies were good.”

  Vaden again found herself staring shamelessly at Ransom Lake as he worked to help her uncle unload the wagon. Actually, her staring had nothing to do with the fact she had never before seen a man in such a state of undress. Granted, his chest and stomach, his entire torso, was a fascinating mass of perfectly sculpted muscles, but Vaden was more intrigued with his manner. He seemed self-conscious and yet, at the same time, indifferent.

  “Wimber gonna harvest those pumpkins soon?” Ransom Lake inquired of Dan.

  “’Bout two or three weeks, so he tells me,” Uncle Dan answered. “I hope we’ll see ya out at the Halloween social, Ransom. It’s Halloween night out by the old oak west of town.”

  Ransom Lake didn’t answer. He simply hefted the sack of sugar Dan handed him onto his shoulder and carried it to the porch. When he returned, he paused and said, “Don’t think folks want the likes of me roamin’ around at the socials.”

  “They’re simply scared of you because you make them feel ignorant.” The statement was past Vaden’s lips and into the autumn air before she could stop. She winced as she looked at the man, afraid he might literally bite off her head.

  As the turbulent gray of his eyes pierced the softness of Vaden’s, Dan chuckled. “She’s got it right there, boy.”

  “Ignorant?” the man questioned. “Explain that to me, girl.”

  Vaden clasped her hands together to try to still their trembling as she spoke. “You’re obviously a man who wants no one and needs nothing from others to survive. Most people aren’t like that, so independent and self-sufficient. They all know you don’t need them or want them, and they feel less confident in your presence is all. And you do look a bit intimidating. I know you look as you do intentionally…to disguise yourself from the world for whatever reasons you have. But they probably think you do it on purpose to look frightening and to try to emphasize your superiority.”

  Ransom Lake scowled deeply as he reached into the wagon and withdrew a bucket of lard. “Your niece is a very presumptuous girl, Dan. Is the other one this bad?” he asked.

  “The other one is the picture of Missy Proper Polly. This one’s honest and says what she thinks. But I’ll warn ya, Ransom…don’t take your eyes off of her or you’re liable to find beans up your nose.” Uncle Dan looked at Vaden all too aware of her humiliation and chuckled merrily.

  Vaden closed her eyes and wished she could melt into the ground so it could absorb her into oblivion. She couldn’t believe her uncle had said what he did! It had started out to be a compliment, she knew. But, oh, what an ending!

  “Don’t know nothin’ about beans, but I do know somethin’ about boots conkin’ ya on the head,” Ransom Lake said. Vaden opened her eyes to see him staring at her with the possibility of a grin hiding beneath the abundant facial hair he wore. She wanted to feel his hair at that moment, to know whether it was soft or coarse.

  Dan chuckled quietly and placed the back of one hand tenderly against Vaden’s scarlet-warmed cheek. Vaden cast her eyes to the ground again, for Ransom Lake continued to stare at her with his unsettling eyes.

  “What’s the winter gonna bring this year anyhow, Ransom?” Dan asked. Vaden almost forgave him for teasing her, for she knew he was taking the attention from her blush.

  Ransom Lake paused in unloading his supplies from the wagon. He leaned against it for a moment and folded his muscular arms across his impressive chest. “I’m thinkin’ it’s gonna be bad. Birds already leavin’. Heard some wild geese overhead only this mornin’.” Vaden looked at him as a pleased smile spread across her face. That morning she too had noticed the quiet, barely audible call of the wild geese. She had looked up, shading her eyes from the sun, and caught a glimpse of the flock as they flew high above her and over town. “Skunks and squirrels already diggin’ in, and the mountain got a siftin’ of snow last night.”

  Dan turned and looked to the mountains standing majestic in the distance. “Shore ’nough,” he mumbled.

  “It’ll wait ’til late November, I’m thinkin’,” Ransom continued. “Then it’s gonna bury us in snow and ice this year.”

  “My bones are achin’ already,” Dan sighed.

  “I’ve got some late apples that’re ready for pickin’, Dan. Why don’t ya go on and fill up a couple of bushel baskets and I’ll unload the rest of this.”

  “If ya don’t mind…I think we’ll do just that, Ransom. Thank ya kindly.” A smile spread like melted butter across Dan’s face. Vaden’s smile increased, for she well knew her uncle’s delight in eating apple dumplings and pies.

  “I left a couple of baskets out under the closest tree last night. Just fill those up and take them.” Ransom nodded at Dan and lifted another sack of flour out of the wagon.

  “We’ll do it!” Uncle Dan clapped his hands together and rubbed them back and forth with delighted anticipation. “Come on, Vaden. You and me ain’t picked apples together in years!”

  Vaden started to follow her uncle toward the nearby orchards and then paused and looked back at Ransom Lake when he called out, “You be careful, girl. Don’t go climbin’ up higher than ya can handle.”

  Vaden clenched her teeth together. With great indignation, she turned and walked toward the orchard with her uncle.

  A good twenty minutes had passed when Dan finally said, “I think we ’bout got these full, sweet pea. You come on down from there now, and we’ll head home.”

  “Okay, Uncle Dan,” Vaden answered from her perch high in the upper branches of a tree. “Let me just get this big juicy one on this branch up here. It’s just calling to my mouth!” Carefully, she began to shinny up a nearby limb, pausing to reach for the large ripe apple growing at its tip.

  “Vaden, your Aunt Myra will skin me alive if ya come home all banged up. Now come on down from there.” Vaden heard her
uncle’s instruction, but the apple was just at her fingertips. Just an inch more and it would be hers. Finding a sturdy knot on the limb, she pressed her boot firmly against it and raised herself slightly.

  “I’ve just about…just about…there! Got it!” she squealed triumphantly as she took hold of the apple and pulled hard. It snapped from any lingering attachment to its mother tree. “See there, Uncle Dan? Now there’s an apple worth stretching for!” She held the apple out for him to see. A moment of dizziness seized her when she looked down and realized she was much higher than she thought.

  “Well now…this doesn’t surprise me one lick. Nope. Not one.” Vaden looked across the orchard to see Ransom Lake approaching. He came to stand beside her uncle, both men gawking up at her. “I just knew I’d come out here to find that child stuck up a tree, Dan.”

  “She ain’t stuck. Are ya, darlin’? She just likes the best out of life, just like her ol’ Uncle Dan. Ain’t that right, sweet pea?” Uncle Dan chuckled.

  “That’s right. I am not stuck, Mr. Lake,” Vaden said. Unbuttoning several buttons at the front of her shirtwaist, she protectively placed the apple inside and began her descent. She was miffed at Ransom Lake’s assumption she had yet again gotten herself into another precarious position. When she reached a limb that wasn’t quite so far from the ground but still well above the men’s heads, she sat down and locked her knees firmly around it. Throwing herself backwards, she turned a somersault and landed smartly in a crouching position at Ransom Lake’s feet. Standing with an air of victory, she pulled the apple from its place at her bosom. Biting into it fiercely, she held it in her teeth as she rebuttoned her shirtwaist, all the while meeting the impressed expression in Ransom Lake’s eyes. She pulled the apple from her mouth and continued to chew, savoring its sweetness. “That’s a good apple you’ve grown, Mr. Lake.”

  “And that’s a fine petticoat you’re wearin’ there, girl,” he mumbled, something of a smile apparent beneath his mustache and beard.