The Visions of Ransom Lake

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  Vaden somewhat resented his syrupy compliment, but she forced a friendly smile and said, “Thank you, Mr. Clayton, but you are far too flattering to me.”

  “No one could ever be too flattering to you, Miss Vaden,” he responded, winking at her. Vaden could not help the blush that rose to her cheeks. It was embarrassing to have himso obviously flirting with her in front of her family. She knew she would never hear the end of it, one way or the other, from any of them.

  Later that night, Vaden folded the small square of muslin protecting two tiny apple seeds and placed it under her bed in one of the large, well-worn boots she hid there. As she did this, Vaden further knew she could never love Jerome. At least, she could not naturally fall in love with him. It would be an actual effort to love him as everyone thought she should or might. And though love alone was enough for some women, it was not for Vaden Valmont. She needed to be in love. She needed to have someone be in love with her. Still, as she lay in bed, she wondered if she were doomed to be joined forever to a man she merely tolerated. She knew the man she truly wanted was out of reach—too distant from life and wanting it that way.

  Then everything, all the thoughts and emotions bursting about in her mind, could stay silent no longer, and as she pulled her quilt up around her neck, she whispered, “Vonnie? Promise you won’t speak of this to anyone?”

  Immediately, Yvonne was alert and sitting up in bed. She knew all too well whenever Vaden spoke that particular phrase, the information she was about to divulge was worth listening to. Furthermore, as she swore, “I promise,” she knew Vaden was confident in her sister’s loyalties. Yvonne Valmont would never repeat whatever it was her sister was about to confide in her.

  “Today,” Vaden began in a whisper, “today when Uncle Dan and I went out to deliver those things to Ransom Lake…”

  “Yes? What?” Yvonne anxiously prodded.

  Suddenly Vaden sat up and blurted out, “Oh, my goodness, Vonnie! He came out of the house in nothing but his boots and trousers!”

  “Do you mean to tell me he appeared before you with only his undershirt covering his torso?” Yvonne was indeed stunned.

  “No, Vonnie! He wore only his boots and trousers. There was nothing covering his…his…chest!” Vaden confessed. Yvonne gasped in horror. Vaden continued, trying to lessen the shock. “Well, he did have his suspenders on, but they were hanging about his hips and legs, so I don’t suppose you could actually count them as being worn…because, of course, they weren’t being worn. They were just hanging there.”

  “Vaden! Do you mean to tell me that you’ve…that you’ve witnessed…”

  “Yes, Vonnie. I have. I’ve seen a man bare from the waist up. And let me tell you this. It is very unsettling—very unsettling, indeed!”

  “Well, do you mean good unsettling or bad unsettling? Really, Vaden, try to be more specific.” Yvonne’s eyes were as large as supper plates, and Vaden had a moment of delight in the fact she had a knowledge her sister did not.

  “Oh, good unsettling, definitely. But…I do think that it would depend on whose bare torso one was viewing. The torso of Ransom Lake was rather…sculpted, I suppose. So obviously solid and defined. I never quite imagined one to look as it did. I’m certain if you were to push at it with your index finger, it would be as solid as stone.”

  “Vaden!” Yvonne exclaimed in a whisper, dramatically covering her ears with her hands. “Don’t speak of such things!”

  “And I’m quite certain that were Jerome Clayton to parade around in such a state…well, I’m quite certain…quite certain the view would not be nearly as…nearly as favorable,” Vaden added.

  Yvonne sighed and lay back down in her bed, her hand to her forehead. “I’m sure you’re completely and utterly corrupted now, Vay. I’m just glad it wasn’t me who was forced to witness such an indecent display.”

  “You, my dear sister, are lying.” Vaden blew out her candle, snuggling down into her warm bed.

  

  “One too many sacks of flour, Dan,” Ransom Lake announced in his provocative, deep, mumbling voice as he entered the mercantile early the next morning. Vaden’s heart immediately began to pound as he carried the sack of flour into the mercantile and set it on the floor against the counter. This time it was Vaden’s elbow jabbing Yvonne’s ribs as she noticed her sister curiously staring at Ransom Lake, as if trying to imagine what he would look like bare from the waist up.

  “Well, honesty is a lost virtue these days, Ransom,” Dan said, taking Ransom’s hand and shaking it firmly. “I thank ya, boy.”

  Ransom glanced quickly to Vaden, but then his eyes went to Yvonne, lingering on her face for a moment before he leaned on the counter and spoke to Dan. “I hear ya got young Jerome Clayton payin’ worship over here near to five times a day.”

  “It’s them nieces of mine,” Dan chuckled.

  Vaden went crimson, knowing full well both men were aware of the discomfort caused her.

  “Ain’t never seen a man so gone on a filly before as that boy is on my Vaden.”

  “Well, it may be ya oughta remind the boy of the bean story ya mentioned yesterday before he’s too far gone.” Ransom turned to Vaden, an unfamiliar smile taking form on his mouth. “So what is the whole bean thing about anyhow, Dan?”

  “Oh! Uncle Dan,” Vaden sighed, her cheeks blushing cranberry. She turned and began frantically dusting the shelves behind the counter.

  “You told him about the lima beans, Vay?” Yvonne whispered softly.

  “I did no such thing!” Vaden whispered in return, grateful that the men’s conversation had turned to other subjects. “Uncle Dan mentioned it.”

  Vaden tried to look busy as she eavesdropped on her uncle’s conversation with Ransom Lake. They talked about men-type things, like the new brand Ransom had registered that morning and the horses old man Tilits used to raise before he died­—things men liked to discuss—but Vaden found it interesting if for no other reason than to her senses. The sound of Ransom Lake’s voice was like a soothing breeze across the brook.

  “Well, hey there, Mr. Valmont,” Jerome greeted as he entered the mercantile. Vaden sighed heavily and rolled her eyes when she heard Jerome’s voice and felt Yvonne tug at her sleeve. Slowly she turned around, forcing a smile as Jerome’s face immediately lit up at the sight of her. “And to you too, Ransom. But especially to you two ladies, Miss Yvonne, Miss Vaden.”

  “Hello, Mr. Clayton,” Yvonne gleefully greeted. “And what brings you in so early this morning?”

  Vaden wanted to turn and run as Ransom Lake’s attention turned to her, his eyebrows raised in obvious mirth at the situation.

  “Oh, just thought I’d stop in and thank ya all again for the wonderful supper and company last evenin’,” he answered.

  Vaden battled the guilt that welled up within her. After all, Jerome was a handsome, charming, polite, and perfectly proper young man. But standing there in the same room with the bearded, rather unkempt-looking Ransom Lake, she still preferred the unobtainable to the majority choice.

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Clayton,” Vaden blurted out when Yvonne’s elbow met mercilessly with her rib.

  “Well, I’ll be headin’ back and let ya all visit,” Ransom Lake said as he shook Dan’s hand. “Thanks again, Dan.” He turned to leave but paused. Turning back to the girls and reaching into his shirt, he withdrew a large, golden, perfectly ripened apple. Striding to the counter, he held it out to Yvonne. “I brought this in for ya, Miss Valmont. Your sister got the best one for herself yesterday. I thought ya might enjoy one as well, since I’m sure your Aunt Myra has the rest set aside for what she will.”

  Vaden watched, hot with jealousy, as Yvonne tentatively reached out and took the piece of fruit. Vaden also knew Yvonne was most likely dumbfounded Ransom Lake had produced it from within his sleeveless shirt.

  “Why…thank you, Mr. Lake,” Yvonne said, and the smile on her face was nothing but sincere delight. Vaden tried to breathe calmly, tried to force
into silence the jealous screech rising in her throat.

  Ransom Lake tipped his hat to Yvonne and then turned to leave. “Oh,”he said and stopped as if he had remembered something. Vaden’s heart beat wildly as his attention turned to her. He said, “And look here what I found for you, Miss Vaden.” He reached into his shirt again and withdrew a golden, perfectly formed pear. “I thought ya might like this, bein’ as how ya like to have the best piece of fruit from the highest branch in the tree. I had to climb a ways up to get it, but,” he lowered his voice, and Vaden fancied the gray storm in his eyes almost softened as he looked at her, “I’m sure my petticoats weren’t nearly as well ironed as yours when I dropped off that pear tree limb.” Turning from her, he patted the countertop in front of Dan and said, “Thanks again, Dan. We’ll be seein’ you, Jerome.” He strode out of the store, leaving Vaden’s heart pounding madly and Yvonne’s eyes as wide as platters as she looked at her sister.

  “Petticoats?” Yvonne whispered.

  Vaden had no desire to explain the remark to her sister, and although she was jittery inside to near exploding at the attention from Ransom Lake, she dove headlong into a conversation with Jerome in order to deter her sister’s inquisitiveness.

  “We were glad to have you last night, Mr. Clayton,” Vaden said, cupping the pear tightly between her hands.

  “I-I hope ya all will have me over again sometime,” Jerome stammered. He seemed uncertain what to think as he stood staring at Vaden.

  “Certainly! Auntie loves to show off her good cooking.” Vaden was walking on air. Not even the ever-present question of what to do about Jerome Clayton could dampen her mood.

  Jerome soon left the store, and Dan went into the back to check some stock. Vaden sighed heavily and bit into the sweet, juicy pear.

  “Vaden Valmont!” Yvonne exclaimed. “Aren’t you going to wash that piece of fruit first? After all, think of where it has been!”

  “I know,” Vaden sighed. “Isn’t it just too delightful?”

  “Vaden!” Yvonne scolded. “You’re…you’re…”

  “Oh, come on, Yvonne. Go ahead. Bite into that apple Ransom Lake carried here in his shirt…probably against his bare—”

  “Stop it, Vay! You’re horrid!” Then a twinkle sparked in Yvonne’s eyes, and a mischievous smile donned her face. With Vaden enjoying the sweet taste of Ransom Lake’s crop, Yvonne furiously bit into her apple.

  Late that night, two seeds from a golden pear and its stem joined the contents of the boot hidden under Vaden’s bed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  If it hadn’t been for the beauty of the season swirling about her, the next several days would have seemed unbearably mundane for Vaden. Fortunately, the autumn flavor in the air, the cool evenings, and the majesty of nature’s colorful fall wardrobe sustained her delight with life. Oh, how the trees did inspire, their leaves of all colors raining down at each gentle breeze. Vaughn Wimber’s pumpkin patch began to fulfill its promise of bounty as the vines began to wither, accentuating the bright orange of the eagerly anticipated squash. And then, on that crisp first day of October, Vaden sensed something rather different in the air—something rather ominous in character.

  That day, Vaden went about her work in the mercantile comfortably enough. All the while, however, an impressive, quiet nagging at the back of her mind gave her thoughts a quantity of distraction. She found herself jittery and easily startled.

  Jerome Clayton was in and spent nearly half an hour following Vaden around the store while she busily labored over her chores. Strangely, she was almost glad to have him there for a while. He seemed to divert the odd whispers of foreboding in her bosom. When he had gone, a strong sense of insecurity began to wash over Vaden as the day further progressed.

  Suddenly, just after lunch, there was excitement in the day when Vaden turned and looked up from the counter to see Ransom Lake enter the store.

  “It’s Mr. Male Anatomy himself,” Yvonne quietly whispered to Vaden, who jabbed her sister in the ribcage with her elbow.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Lake,” Vaden nervously greeted. Every inch of her body was tingling with elation.

  He simply nodded and continued to stand just inside the doorway, looking about the room as if he himself were wondering why he had stepped into the building.

  “Can we help you find something today, Mr. Lake?” Yvonne asked.

  Frowning, Ransom Lake only looked at her, his turbulent gray eyes glaring intently.

  Vaden was irritated that the man stared so at Yvonne. She did not like his attention being settled on her sister. Soon enough, however, Ransom Lake’s stormy gaze moved to Vaden. He turned and looked back out the door and then back to Vaden, who stood just before the counter and parallel with the open door of the mercantile.

  Ransom Lake again briefly looked back. When he finally addressed the two young women, there was an air of confusion in his voice. “I…I, uh…only came in to see if your uncle is here. I…I, uh…wanted to speak with him about…somethin’.”

  “He’s gone down to Mrs. Tilits’s with Aunt Myra. She’s feeling poorly, and with the changes in the weather—”Yvonne started to explain.

  “What’s the matter, Mr. Lake?” Vaden interrupted. She looked beyond him for a moment to see a group of small boys playing in the street in front of the store. “You seem a bit—”

  In the very next instant, Ransom Lake glanced back out the mercantile door once more before quickly lunging forward and roughly taking Vaden’s shoulders between his powerful hands.

  “Move, girl!” he shouted a split second before Yvonne screamed as the repeat of a rifle split the calm quiet. Unable to comprehend immediately what had transpired, Vaden could only watch, dazed and helpless, as she saw the face of Ransom Lake wince before he fell forward, his masculine weight knocking her back against the counter. His head hit the corner of the counter with inordinate force as his body crumpled to the floor.

  Instantly, a great commotion erupted outside, but Vaden cared nothing for the goings-on in the street. Falling to her knees, she gasped when she saw the bright red, moist stain saturating the back of Ransom Lake’s shirt. Even as she struggled to roll the heavy man to his back, she knew that his head hitting the counter could have caused an even worse injury. Every fiber of her body ached with pain for him as she’d heard the force with which his head collided with the counter. The blood was already matting his hair. She tried to brush it aside to inspect the wound. A large cut was apparent, but she wondered if the impact had damaged him worse inside his head where she could not see.

  “Don’t stand there with your mouth gaping open, Yvonne!” Vaden shouted to her sister, who stood staring at her in horror. “Run get the doctor!”

  “But…but there’s gunfire out there, Vaden!” Yvonne was rattled. She stood nervously wringing her hands.

  “Go! Look at all the people in the street! Do you think they’d be out there if it weren’t safe now? Hurry up!” Yvonne dashed from the store. Vaden felt tears escape her eyes and begin to travel down her cheeks. She dabbed at Mr. Lake’s wounded head with her apron.

  “What happened in here?” a man asked as he burst into the store. It was Pete Davis, who owned a farm just west of town. His gaze was immediately drawn to the man lying on the floor. “I saw Miss Valmont in the street and—”

  “Someone has shot Mr. Lake!” Vaden cried out. “Help me! I don’t know what to do.”

  Mr. Davis hunkered down beside the girl and looked at Ransom Lake. “Well, he’s breathing. Those kids oughta be shot themselves for playin’ with guns.”

  “What do you mean?” Vaden asked.

  “Well, looks like a couple of young boys was playin’ with a rifle ’cross the street in the alley. It must’ve gone off before they knowed what hit ’em. Though they’re denyin’ it like sin.”

  “It would’ve hit me,” Vaden whispered. “I was standing there against the counter. Suddenly, Mr. Lake moved toward me and told me to move. The bullet hit him instead of me.�
��

  “Well, child, I don’t mean to sound heartless…but a tough old bear like Ransom Lake will survive it a lot easier than you would’ve.”

  “Mr. Davis!” Vaden exclaimed, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s true. I’m more worried about that cut on his head. Did he hit himself fallin’ or what? The bullet wound ain’t deep in him. But it ain’t a good sign that he’s still out cold.”

  Again, Vaden looked down to the wounded man who lay before her. She shook her head as the tears increased. “No,” she whispered out loud. It couldn’t be! Surely it couldn’t be her fault that he was hurt. Taking one of his large hands in her own, she stroked the back of it gently. “He’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. It was as if…as if he knew it was going to happen,” she mumbled to herself as she replayed the incident in her mind. Yes, it was just as if he knew. He had acted so confused and uncertain when he first entered the store. And he kept looking back out the door as if expecting to see something there. A cold shiver quickly traveled through her as she stared down at the unconscious man—at the closed, still eyes hiding the stormy gray her heart so adored.

  

  “The bullet wound is not my concern, Dan,” Doctor Sullivan said. Vaden stood in the doorway of the spare bedroom in the Valmont home intently listening. “He obviously has a severe head injury, else he’d be conscious by now. As I said before, I don’t want to move him. And with so many in the county down with illness…I can’t be here. You’re certain your girls don’t mind tending to Ransom until he wakes up or…or…” Dr. Sullivan looked to Vaden’s frightened eyes. “Until he wakes up?”

  “Of course they don’t mind, John. We’ll all help the boy. I just can’t believe this. Shot and wounded in my own store.” Dan wore an unfamiliar frown across his weathered face. He and Myra had understandably been horrified when they arrived home to find Yvonne and Vaden both in tears and Ransom Lake, shot and unconscious, in their spare room. Dan looked at Vaden then and, nodding, reaffirmed, “He’s a good man to step in front of ya like that, sweet pea.”