Vaden paused and turned to face her sister. Yvonne was disturbed when she saw tears brimming in Vaden’s eyes. “Nobody cares that he was shot right there in the mercantile only a couple of days ago, Vonnie! All they care about is what he looks like, and…and…they’re going to hound him, and his privacy will be completely destroyed because of me! I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t grind me into the ground with the heel of his boot.”
As understanding enveloped Yvonne, she smiled affectionately at her sister. “I’m sure Mr. Lake will not blame you for that. I had no idea you were so completely in love with him, Vay. Why didn’t you tell me how desperate you were toward him?”
Vaden’s indignant expression answered Yvonne’s question even before her voice did. “I am notin love with him! And anyway, I’m entirely certain you wouldn’t have understood why I found myself in this…this…obsessive curiosity where the indecorous town hermit is concerned.”
Yvonne guiltily cast her eyes to the ground for a moment before putting a comforting arm about her sister’s shoulders. “Forgive me. I’ve been totally insensitive as of late. Forgive me, darling.”
“That was quite a blunt answer you gave in there,” Jerome stated, coming out of the store and approaching the girls.
“A forthright answer to a forthright question,” Vaden explained rather sharply. She had no desire to deal with Jerome at that particular moment.
“Well, let me just tell ya this.” Jerome took hold of Vaden’s arm rather roughly as he continued commandingly. “An old goat like Ransom Lake ain’t no competition to me.”
“How dare you speak to me in such a tone, Jerome Clayton?” Vaden snatched her arm from his grasp, rubbing its sudden soreness and glaring up at him.
“Don’t you handle my sister like that!” Yvonne scolded.
Jerome seemed to ignore her and continued to glare at Vaden as his chest rose and fell heavily with withheld anger. “He’s probably twice your age, probably hidin’ from the law or some woman he done wrong.”
“I knew it,” Vaden said calmly, looking at him with complete distaste. “You’re like everyone else around here—judge, jury, and executioner. I knew you weren’t any different from all the other old gossips in town.” She despised Jerome Clayton at that moment. How dare he speak so of Ransom Lake? How dare he?
“I’m sorry, Miss Vaden,” Jerome apologized, his manner softening. He did seem sincerely remorseful in that moment, but Vaden was wary of him all the same. “It’s just that…well, I’m so dang hanged up on ya and—”
“Then act like a gentleman and prove it to her,” Yvonne scolded.
“You’re right, Miss Yvonne. Of course, you’re right,” he conceded. “I’m so sorry, Miss Vaden. I—”
“Let the ladies have their walk, boy.” Vaden looked up to see Ransom Lake approaching from across the street. Her heart began to pound fiercely as he nodded in greeting to Yvonne and then to her. Goosebumps broke over every inch of her flesh; she was as thoroughly overcome by his incurably handsome appearance as she had been the first time she had seen him unshaven and awake.
“Your daddy’s team is for sale, I hear,” Ransom Lake said to Jerome. “I’d like to take a look at them if I could. Why don’t ya come on into the mercantile with me and tell me about them?”
Jerome looked to Vaden, irritated. Then, nodding, he followed Ransom into the mercantile. Yvonne and Vaden watched in silence as the men entered the mercantile. Vaden wondered if Ransom Lake had intentionally coaxed Jerome away from irritating her further.
“I hope those cackling hens in there don’t make complete idiots of the women of the world and swoon right at his feet,” Yvonne whispered as Vaden clutched her hand.
As she and Yvonne stood outside the mercantile watching what was taking place within, Vaden’s heart pounded madly. She prayed the women in the store would not rudely stare at him.
All seemed well save the fact Jerome kept glancing out the window at Vaden. She started to heave a relieved sigh, but someone bumped her shoulder. She turned to see Belva, Raylin, and Selma headed for the mercantile, Nathaniel and Toby Bridges at their heels.
“Well, let’s have a good look at Mr. Ransom Lake, shall we?” Belva snipped pointedly as she glared at Vaden.
“Oh, Vonnie,” Vaden breathed as she watched in horror. Yvonne gripped her hand tighter, and Vaden knew she too was watching with great trepidation.
Yvonne and Vaden couldn’t hear what was being said. It was plain enough, however, what course the conversation in the store was taking. Belva boldly walked up behind Ransom Lake, tapping him on the shoulder. Ransom Lake turned and shook the girl’s outstretched hand. At the same moment, Jerome stared at Vaden through the window with obvious disapproval.
“I-I can’t watch!” she cried out and turned and fled.
“Vay! Wait! Don’t run off!” Yvonne called. But Vaden knew all too well what this meant—what the town’s sudden acceptance of, and interest in, Ransom Lake meant. Whatever small amount of his attention she had been able to capture thus far would fall by the wayside in the wake of the newfound acceptance he would have. Angrily wiping at her tears, she ran down the center street of town, turning off at the road to the pumpkin patch. She didn’t even stop to wave to Mr. Wimber when he called out. At last she reached her haven.
Climbing quickly up into the secluded branches of her favorite maple, she sobbed bitterly for some time. He’d made it plain enough the day before. Ransom Lake had told her exactly how he felt about having his face shaved without his consent. And then, she’d managed to find herself squarely in his lap at the barbershop! Vaden buried her face in her hands. She had been nothing but an anvil tied about his neck—an irritating cat walking between his feet as he was trying to get somewhere. And now, now he would have all the attention, all the help, and all the friends he wanted, even if he didn’t want them. Vaden sobbed bitterly. Ransom Lake was completely lost to her now. There would never be another moment when he would walk into the mercantile causing everyone to evacuate in discomfort. More likely they would flock to it like ants to spilt sugar!
An hour passed—a long, excruciating hour during which Vaden accepted the fact it had all been a silly schoolgirl’s dream. Why had she allowed herself to become so enamored with the man? Why hadn’t she listened to her sister? To her aunt? Jerome Clayton was a fine young man, they all assured her over and over again, a young man of many divine qualities. And it seemed to be true. He seemed safe, she mused. And safe avoided heartache. Oh, Vaden had been one to champion love against all odds, but that day in her maple as she reflected over and over again on the triumphant expression on Belva Tibbits’s face, she realized Jerome Clayton was reality—a nice, safe reality—while Ransom Lake was only a dream—a beautiful, dangerous, and unobtainable dream. Dreams were for little girls, and she was growing up. It was a harsh, unwanted, unfriendly truth.
Letting the last of many maple leaves she’d picked float gently down through the air and into the brook, Vaden inhaled deeply and brushed the last tear from her cheek. Her soul had been searched and, in being searched so long and so ardently, had lost the certainty of life. Slowly she climbed down from her perch in the maple and started back toward home.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Ya’ve just been too darn quiet as of late, sweet pea,” Dan stated. He sat beside Vaden on her bed one evening a week or so after Ransom Lake raised himself from the Valmont’s guest chamber and walked out of Vaden’s grasp. “Your auntie and I…well, we just worry. Look at them cheeks of yours, girl, usually all rosy and full of life. They’re nearly pale now. And the spark to your eyes is dwindlin’ more and more every day.”
“I-I’ve just been a bit downhearted is all, Uncle Dan,” Vaden explained. Forcing a smile, she looked at her uncle’s concerned face and assured, “I’ll be fine soon enough. I promise.”
“Well…all right then. I’ll let ya be for now. I know Jerome will be here any minute to take ya for a ride.” Dan paused and drew in a deep breath as if he�
��d meant to say something more. He must have reconsidered, however, for he kissed her affectionately on the cheek and left.
As Vaden looked at her reflection in the mirror, she too noticed the pallid complexion looking back at her. Pinching her cheeks mercilessly, she forced a smile and said, “Jerome Clayton will be here any minute, Vaden Valmont. And each time you agree to go riding with him or for a walk or let Aunt Myra invite him for dinner…each time you’re coming closer to reality.”
Closing her eyes for a moment, she let her mind conjure up an image of Ransom Lake the way he’d looked only that morning when she had seen him coming out of the blacksmith’s shop. He’d seemed completely oblivious to everyone looking at him when he passed them by. One by one, he’d sauntered past people, completely unaware and completely irresistible. Her heart endured a deep pang of misery, of unhealable sorrow, as she thought of him. Several times during the week she had seen him in passing, even once while she had been walking back from her maple near the brook. Each time he’d nodded to her politely, not smiling, however, and not speaking one solitary word to her.
Worst of all, she had willingly allowed Jerome Clayton to begin courting her now. And instead of helping her to move on and try to accept that Ransom Lake would never love her, it only served to drive the blade of disappointment and heartbreak further into her soul. She had thought that giving herself the opportunity to know Jerome better, to find things to like about him, would help her to accept the inevitability of having to put Ransom Lake out of her mind. But it hadn’t helped. It had instead made things worse, for every time she forced herself to be pleasant to Jerome, to laugh at his wit, to admit his attractiveness, it was as if someone had plunged a dagger into some part of her heart. Yet it seemed the truth of life. Yvonne assured her Jerome was a wonderful boy. Everyone assured her he was. And she knew everyone approved of him. But yet…something in her couldn’t accept him. And she was certain this was because everything in her loved the mysterious, the deliciously handsome Ransom Lake.
“Ya don’t quite look yourself tonight, Miss Vaden,” Jerome remarked as he helped her into the buggy.
“Oh, just a bit tired today, I suppose,” she sighed, buttoning the top button of her coat, for it was a rather chilly night. At that moment, as if fate meant to drive the dagger of despair deeper into her heart, Ransom Lake stepped in front of the mare that was hitched to the buggy.
“How ya doin’ this evenin’, Jerome? Miss Vaden?” he asked in his masculine, mumbling manner.
“Just fine, Ransom. And you?” Jerome greeted, standing up and reaching across Vaden to shake Ransom Lake’s outstretched hand. She didn’t look at him at first, afraid she might burst into tears at the sight of the tantalizing storm color of his eyes. But when he addressed her directly, she knew she must face him.
“You two out for an evenin’ ride then, Miss Vaden?” he mumbled. Her hand had been resting on the rim of the buggy. When she felt the worn leather of Ransom Lake’s glove cover her hand, she startled, looking directly into his hypnotic gaze.
“Yes…yes. It’s a nice evening for it. Don’t you think, Mr. Lake?” she stammered. Oh, how handsome he was! How enticing! Vaden was unsettled as she felt the moisture in her mouth increase as she continued to look at him.
“I’m just in to talk to your Uncle Dan a minute, so ya have fun now,” he said, stepping back from the buggy as Jerome slapped the lines at the horse’s back.
“Good evenin’ to ya then, Ransom,” Jerome called.
Vaden closed her eyes as the buggy lurched forward and away from her heart’s one desire. Over an hour later, Jerome pulled the mare in front of the mercantile and offered Vaden his hand to assist her down. As he walked her to the porch and paused before the closed doors, she realized it was the first time since they’d left Ransom Lake standing there that she fully heard what Jerome was saying. All evening, though Jerome was at her side, ever flattering, ever attentive, her thoughts had been of nothing else but the vision of Ransom Lake standing next to the buggy and so near to her, his eyes intent on hers in a manner of thinly masked disapproval.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Clayton. I-I know I haven’t been good company tonight,” she apologized as Jerome took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “I’ve just…just had some things on my mind and—”
“It’s all right, Miss Vaden,” he accepted. “I think ya just need…”And in the next moment, before Vaden could move to avoid it, she felt the moist warmth of Jerome’s kiss on her lips. She wanted to pull away from him, slap his face, but she knew she had led him to this. She had accepted his courting, encouraged him even as of late. What else could she expect? When his kiss lingered, threatening to become more than a tender bidding goodnight, she stepped back from him.
“Goodnight, Mr. Clayton,” she whispered. “I do thank you for your company this evening.”
Jerome’s eyes were narrowed, his expression serious. “I love you, Vaden Valmont. I’m a good man, and I’ll make a good—”he began.
“You are a good man, Mr. Clayton,” Vaden interrupted, though her compliment was not in earnest. She did not want to hear his confession, his assurance that he would be a good companion for her throughout life. “I…just be patient with me, please. Be patient.” He seemed satisfied with her response for the moment and smiled, nodding a goodnight as he turned and descended the porch steps.
Vaden watched Jerome disappear down the street and into the night. A heavy sigh escaped her lungs, and a horrible sense of guilt and disappointment churned in her stomach. She had allowed him to kiss her goodnight, and his kiss had meant nothing to her. It had no effect on her, save it caused her to want him to leave. She closed her eyes, trying to call up a vision, the sensation of what it might feel like to be in the arms of Ransom Lake had he been the one to have briefly kissed her. She knew with everything that made her Vaden Valmont that had the kiss been from Ransom Lake, however brief, she knew severe exhilaration and delight would have overwhelmed her. Further, she knew such bliss could never be achieved from kisses forced by Jerome Clayton.
She thought her imagination’s creation had come to life for a moment when she heard Ransom Lake’s voice near. But when she again heard his voice say, “Miss Vaden,” she opened her eyes and turned to find him actually standing at the foot of the porch steps glaring up at her.
“Mr. Lake,” Vaden exclaimed, blushing, for she suddenly feared he could read her thoughts somehow.
A frown furrowed his brow as he shook his head slowly. “I thought better of ya than that.”
“What do you mean?” Vaden asked, folding her arms across her chest.
“He’s a worm.”
“Who?” she asked, for her most recent thoughts had been of Ransom Lake, not Jerome Clayton.
“Jerome Clayton, girl! Who do ya think I mean?” He seemed overly vexed but not uncharacteristically so.
“He’s a very nice young man, Mr. Lake. Everyone speaks well of him. I don’t understand why you—”
“He’s a worm,” he repeated. “Why would ya let him kiss you like that?”
Vaden’s mouth gaped open slightly as the horrid heat of a guilty blush rose to her cheeks. “What do you mean, Mr. Lake?”
Observably irritated, Ransom stomped up the porch steps, coming to stand before Vaden. “Why would ya let a little worm like that kiss you, girl? He certainly don’t know how to do a proper job of it,” he growled.
Vaden was completely flustered and speechless. She was horrified in the knowledge he had witnessed her exchange with Jerome. Yet Ransom Lake held no great desire for her, so what right did he have to scold her so? She wanted to scream at him—to shout, You don’t want me, so who else is there? Instead she said, “I don’t think this is any of your business! He’s a very nice young man, and I hold him in high esteem.” She wondered why she was so vehemently defending Jerome when she herself was in doubt of his sincerity of character at times.
“Exactly. So why are ya lettin’ him slobber all over ya like a parched ca
mel?” Ransom Lake’s eyes narrowed as he glared at her.
Vaden felt the heat that preceded stinging tears well up in her throat.
“He hardly slobbered all over me, Mr. Lake,” she defended. “And I still don’t see what business this is of yours.”
“You’d think the boy would at least try to do a proper job of it since ya let him kiss ya. But he’s too wormy to even come close to it. I expected more from you, little girl.” He turned and started to leave, but the tone of hurt in Vaden’s next utterance seemed to stall him.
“And who do you think you are, Ransom Lake? I suppose you think you could do a proper job of it!” Her voice cracked with restrained emotion as she spoke.
She watched as he turned toward her, glaring, his broad chest rising and falling with his exasperated breathing. His eyes narrowed once more. He leaned forward until Vaden could feel his breath on her face as he spoke. “You bet them neatly ironed petticoats of yours I could, sweet pea,” he growled. Then, without any further warning, Ransom Lake took hold of her mittened hand and pulled her down the steps after him.
“What are you doing? Let go of me!” she protested as she tried to pull her hand free of his grasp. But Ransom Lake led her forcefully to the side of the house and out of the light of the lantern on the porch.
“First thing I’d do is get ya out of the light so every danged neighbor for fifty miles around can’t peep at us. Can’t kiss ya proper when you’re worried about who might see.” Rather roughly, Ransom Lake turned Vaden to face him, pushing her back against the building. “Then I gotta back ya up against a wall so ya can’t turn away from me.” He took her hands, stripping them of her mittens and tucking the woolen warmers tightly into her coat pockets. He whisked her cap from her head, tucking it safely into his own trouser pocket.
Vaden gasped and tried to grab at his hands as he then quickly unbuttoned her coat.
“What are you—”she gasped.
“Be quiet,” he growled. “I gotta get rid of some of this so ya know it’s me warming ya up and not—”
The Visions of Ransom Lake Page 10