“We need to bury someone, Miss Vaden Valmont,” a man’s voice, altered intentionally, whispered in her ear. “We got to appease the spirits, ya see. Offer up someone. Ya ever been buried before?” it asked. “Well, sweet thing…there’s a first time foreverything they say, now don’t they?” Again there was the laughter of evil mischief, and Vaden struggled with all of her might.
“Where’s that little sister of yours, Miss Valmont?”
Yvonne turned to see none other than Ransom Lake standing before her inquiring about Vaden. She thought of how utterly thrilled Vaden would be to know the man had asked after her.
“She’s gone home, Mr. Lake. She said she was tired,” Yvonne answered, smiling at him. Her smile faded, however, when his face immediately puckered into a frown.
“On Halloween night? Doesn’t she realize the tricksters are out in full force about this time?” he asked.
“Tricksters?”
“There isn’t a county in this good country where the boys and young men of the town don’t pull pranks all night long on Halloween, miss. I’m not sure it’s all that safe that she’s gone home alone.”
“She’ll be fine, Mr. Lake,” Yvonne assured him, though now she too was ill at ease. “It’s Vaden, after all.”
Ransom Lake nodded, still seemingly unconvinced. Closing his eyes for a moment, he seemed less so. “Well, guess I’ll run on home now. Ya tell your sister I missed her this evenin’, Miss Valmont. Shoot, I didn’t get conked on the head, sat down on, shaved, or covered in squash. I feel pretty unfulfilled.”
Yvonne giggled even though Ransom Lake’s frown deepened as he gave her a nod of departure.
On his ride home, Ransom Lake closed his eyes and shook his head several times at the pain inside it. The feeling was there—the sensation of despair, of ominous evil lurking somewhere. He felt the fear in his heart. At least he thought he did, but there was no picture in his mind,nothing to guide him. For the first time in his life, Ransom Lake found himself intentionally searching for the visions in his mind, but nothing came to him—only the frustration of the uncertainty. He shook his head and tried to ignore the feeling in his chest. He tried to convince himself all the way back to his place that all was well.
When he arrived home, Ransom removed his shirt, tossing it onto a nearby chair. He went to the kitchen and got himself a glass of refreshing water. Suddenly he dropped the glass, and it shattered as it hit the floor. The mad pounding of his heart increased as the all too familiar feeling of deep anxiety possessed him. Rushing to the door, he pulled on his boots, pausing for a moment to close his eyes and search for a vision. But still none came—no scenic premonition to help him pinpoint the fear he felt, someone else’s fear. Nothing to help him ease his panic. And he remembered again the thing he could never forget—the first time he’d felt the horrid panic rise within him, beckoning his soul in a direction it must go. He’d sworn that never again would he brush it off as he’d done the first time. Though he’d sensed something earlier on his way home, there had been nothing to confirm it, only the beginnings of the sense of panic. But now he felt it wholly!
Rushing out into the cool late of the night, he took only the time needed to bridle his horse. The feeling of panic, of impending doom, caused his hands to tremble violently as he mounted the animal’s bare back and dug his heels into the horse’s flesh to signal a gallop. He was being pushed out into the night, and he knew where he was being sent. It frightened him, forsince she’d arrived in town, his visions had begun tocenter on only her. He had no doubt it was her need prompting his soul now.
“Why…Ransom,” Myra stammered as she opened the door to find Ransom Lake standing before her only half dressed. He nodded, not waiting for an invitation to enter, and walked into the house past Myra and directly to where Yvonne sat on the sofa in front of the fire.
“She’s not home,” he stated rather than inquired.
“No. No,” Yvonne sputtered. She didn’t know whether to avert her eyes or look at him while answering him. He wore no shirt and no flannels either. He stood before her bare from the waist up, and she realized why Vaden had been so overwhelmed at touching him.
“We’re beginning to worry, Ransom,” Myra admitted. “In fact, Danny has gone out to look for her. It’s cold out and solate, and I know she didn’t take a proper coat. Ransom? Ransom? What’s the matter?”
Ransom Lake stared into the fire as it popped and crackled in the hearth. Closing his eyes, he waited, for he felt it approaching his mind—the insufferable sense of fear, the horror and panic of being closed in.It was sucking the air from his own lungs. There was more in that instant, and then he knew where to go.
“It’s bad. I’ve got to get to her now,” he mumbled to Myra as he rushed from the house.
“Ya mean you know where she is?” the woman called to him from the front porch as she watched him mount his horse.
“I have my suspicions,” he mumbled before riding away at a gallop.
The tears streamed down Vaden’s temples as she tried to calm her breathing. She could not sob, for it would surely smother her, her mouth being gagged as it was. The blanket had been removed from her head and body, but now a cloth bound her mouth, and ropes held her arms to her sides and her feet together firmly. She had to breathe calmly through her nose. If she continued crying, her nose would swell and she would not be able to breathe, she reminded herself again. So her mind prayed for release, for safety. She tried not to think of the fact she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She wondered over and over why the young men had chosen her! She wasn’t even sure if she knew her tormenters. In the darkness and with all the scuffling, she hadn’t been able to see their faces. What had she done to provoke such actions from them? She heard them laughing and heard something hit the lid of the coffin.
“We’re buryin’ ya now, Miss Vaden. Don’t mind it too much. You’ll just run out of air and go to sleep. It won’t hurt none.” And then she recognized it was Frank Hodges’s voice speaking to her. She knew him! One of her own peers, a supposed friend, was doing this to her? She heard him laugh as another thud sounded on the wood over her.
Then she did begin to panic. She tried to thrash, to loosen the ropes that bound her arms and her feet. She cried then, unable to stop the tears and sobbing rising from her of the fear and panic attacking her mind and body.
“Settle down in there!” Frank shouted. “It’ll only make it worse for ya.” She stopped thrashing when she heard him say, “Who? Who’s comin’?”
Trying to remain silent, Vaden listened and felt hope rising within her as she heard the drumming of an approaching horse.
“What are you doin’ here?” one of the other men shouted.
She heard a scuffle and shouting, and then a voice she thought she was dreaming growled, “I oughta tear your throats open for this.” She held her breath, unable to believe what she had heard. Whoshe had heard! There were more scuffling sounds and shouting, and then she began to cry as she heard someone prying the lid off the pine coffin. When the lid lifted and the moon and starlight shone in, breaking the darkness of impending death, Vaden closed her eyes, offering a thankful prayer.There, looking down at her, stood none other than her cherished Ransom Lake.
“What kind of fools would…” he mumbled angrily, profound concern apparent in his fiery eyes as he reached into the coffin and pulled Vaden from it. Embracing her momentarily, he let her feet drop to the ground. “They oughta have their hearts torn out for this,” he continued to mutter as he removed the piece of linen from her mouth, drew the knife from his boot, and cut away the ropes binding her. As the ropes fell from her body, she collapsed against him. He didn’t hesitate but gathered her into his powerful arms, carrying her toward the nearby wagon.
Vaden glanced about to see Frank Hodges, Toby Bridges, and Randy Lange lying about on the ground, each bleeding from their nose and mouth and doubled over, clutching at their midsection
. Her own supposed friends had done this to her. It was unthinkable! How could they?
“You get up there and drive that team, boy!” Ransom commanded, looking to Nathaniel Wimber, whose face was indeed bloodied and bruised, though he still stood. “Now, boy! Unless ya want another dose of angry Ransom Lake!”
Clutching his stomach, Nathaniel struggled onto the seat of the wagon as Ransom lifted Vaden into the wagon bed, climbing in behind her. He whistled to his horse, and the animal approached, allowing its master to secure its reins to the wagon. Her rescuer settled against the sideboard, pulling Vaden into his arms and against the security of his warm body. “Get a move on, boy!” he shouted. “I think ya know where to go, now don’t ya?”
Nathaniel paused, looking back at his friends. “What about—”he began.
“I don’t care if the coyotes tear them to bloodied shreds, boy! And if ya don’t want to join them in hell, ya get this team movin’ toward Dan Valmont’s place now!”
Nathaniel clicked his tongue, and the team lurched forward. Vaden had begun to tremble excessively, her nerves and emotions completely out of control. Ransom wrapped her tightly in his arms and spoke soothingly, “It’s all right now, girl. It’s all right.”
His warm breath in her hair and the sympathy in his low voice caused her to tremble all the more, and she sobbed. It took her several moments before she realized her cheek was flush with the bareness of his chest. His skin was soft and warm, but she pushed herself from his embrace all the same. It was all too improper, even for Vaden. The thought went through her mind quickly that Yvonne would’ve dropped dead on the spot at knowing her sister had allowed a man’s body to touch her own.
But when the tantalizingly attractive Ransom Lake reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of his hand, Vaden Valmont cared nothing for propriety and threw herself into the comfort of his arms once more.
“They meant to…to…” she stuttered.
“They meant to frighten ya is all. But there’s nothin’ funny about a prank like that,” he spoke quietly. His voice was so deep, so soothing that in a moment, Vaden began to cease her trembling.
“All the same…I thought they meant to—”
“We only meant it as a joke, Miss Vaden,” Nathaniel defended. Vaden’s arms slid around Ransom’s waist for comfort. She pulled herself tighter against him, trying to drown out the sound of Nathaniel’s voice. But her anger, anxiety, and residual fear only heightened as he added, “Looks to me like you’re the one who’s needin’ a lesson or two, Ransom Lake. Forcin’ that poor girl against you like that. You’re nothin’ but a dirty old man.”
“You can shut your mouth or be signin’ your own death certificate, boy,” Ransom growled. Nathaniel spoke not another word, only continued to drive the team.
As the wagon rolled on, the noise of it rumbling along the road to town heightened as the terrain became rougher and rougher. The loud rumble of the wagon wheels on the hard earth, the sideboards rattling, all of it added to Vaden’s anxiety. At least, she thought, Nathaniel wouldn’t be attempting to speak to her, for the noise was profound. Even if he did attempt it, she was comforted to know she would not be able to hear him.
Vaden began to feel warmer, within and without. It was an inebriating sensation being held by Ransom Lake. His strong hands stroked her hair comfortingly as he held her, and the horrid fears and anxieties she had experienced at the hands of the young men were lessened for a time. She marveled again at the warmth of him. And it testified to her of how the temperature had dropped.
“I’m sorry,” she spoke to him. “To drag you out in the cold like this. I—”
“What? Don’t you be apologizin’ for anything,” he scolded. “This is none of it your fault, girl.”
“I shouldn’t have left the social, shouldn’t have been so foolish. And then…then…I was so scared. I know it’s silly of me. Stupid to let a prank affect me so…” she began, tears still streaming down her face.
“None of this was your fault. And anybody would’ve been scared near to death at havin’ this done to them.” Ransom Lake took her face between his powerful hands and glared into her eyes. Vaden’s own eyes widened, for the anger apparent in his gray eyes was almost frightening. “It’s over now. Ya put it out of your mind.”
“I can’t,” she cried. “I can’t. I keep thinking about—”
“Then think about somethin’ else,” he told her calmly.
“I-I couldn’t move! I couldn’t breathe! All I could smell was that pine box and the dirt and—”
“I know,” he comforted. “Sssshh.”
Then, because of the state of lingering panic and fear in Vaden’s mind, because of the interminable need she felt to receive comfort from him, to feel security somehow, she did stop crying, and her attention at that moment was completely arrested by his mouth.
“Ssshhh,” he whispered again as he held her face in his hands.
Before Vaden could stop herself, her fevered, tormented mind had instructed her body to act, and it did. She reached up, pulling his hands from her face and freeing it from his grasp. Raising her face to his, she kissed him directly on the same enticing mouth that had tried to verbally silence her fears a moment before. She did not kiss him long, nor passionately, but indeed longer and betraying more of her own desire than she intended. She had closed her eyes in that moment of the kiss, letting the warmth and strength of him push aside the horrid thoughts of what she had endured before he had come for her. She opened her eyes to see him frowning at her; his expression otherwise was one of surprise. Humiliated suddenly at her brazen act, Vaden fought for an explanation.
“I-I…” she stammered. “Thank you. Thank you for coming for me. I-I only wanted to thank you.”
He continued to frown at her as if he did not believe her reason for kissing him was merely a thank you for his chivalry. He said nothing—uttered not one word—only persisted in staring at her in his unnerving manner. As the heated blush of her ever-increasing humiliation began to burn throughout her body, Vaden attempted to push herself free of him. But each time her palms would push fiercely against his powerful chest, his strong arms would only tighten about her body. Finally, as tears flooded her cheeks once more with her frustration, he abruptly released her, and she scooted away from him to the other side of the wagon bed. She looked at him for a moment as he stretched his arms out, resting them on the side of the wagon sideboard he sat against. His eyes still studied her incessantly, the frown still puckering his brow. Vaden looked away to what lay behind the wagon, and when the terror of the incident only renewed itself, for she could still smell the sickly sweet aroma of pine, she turned and looked at the team of horses pulling the wagon toward home.
The air was more than chilled now.It was cold, and Vaden, without a proper coat, was beginning to shiver. Drawing her knees to her chest, she hugged them against her body tightly and looked once more to where Ransom Lake sat across the way, ever staring with his stormy, disturbing eyes. She looked away from him again and glanced at Nathaniel, who drove the wagon on determinedly.
But when she could still feel the heat of Ransom Lake’s gaze on her, she looked to him once more and said curtly, “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you wear a coat? A shirt, at least?” Her voice was too brusque, and she knew it. But he was making her uncomfortable now. The heaven-sent man who had saved her from further anguish and pain was the cause of her irritation now.
“Didn’t have time to dress for the weather,” he answered loudly, yet still in his mumbled, low, almost slurred manner. “And aren’t ya glad I didn’t waste the time on it?”
Vaden sighed and looked away, ashamed that she would talk so rudely to him.
“And besides,” he continued, his voice taking on the provocative intonation that always sent Vaden’s innards to taking flight, “it’s not like it’s anything of me ya haven’t seen before, now is it?”
Instinctively Vaden glanced to Nathaniel, who only continued to drive the
team, seemingly having not heard Ransom Lake’s rather personal statement.
“That sounded terrible! The way you offered that remark!” Vaden scolded him.
Ransom scowled and tipped his head to her. “What? What did ya say, girl?”
Again Vaden looked to Nathaniel to ensure that his attention was straightforward and he was not listening over his shoulder. “I said that sounded terrible! The way you—”
“What?” Ransom Lake interrupted, cupping a hand to his ear.
Vaden exhaled with exasperation. Then, moving forward until she was on her hands and knees in the wagon bed and closer once more to the man so that he might hear her, she repeated, “I said that sounded terrible! What if he had heard you?”
“What? Heard me say that out by the creek the other day, I took off my shirt and you—”Ransom Lake was silenced immediately as Vaden lunged forward and put her hand over his mouth.
“What are ya doin’ back there, Ransom Lake? That’s Jerome Clayton’s girl ya got back there, and I don’t think he—”Nathaniel began as he started to look over his shoulder.
In one swift movement, Ransom Lake’s powerful arms left their resting place on the wagon board, pushed Vaden’s hand from his mouth, and took hold of her wrist tightly, rendering her unable to move back to the other side of the wagon. “Keep your eyes on home, boy,” he growled. “Unless ya want me to break your neck and leave ya out here to the coyotes.”
Nathaniel was silent as Vaden tried to pull her wrist free of Ransom Lake’s grasp. But as she attempted to pry his fingers from her wrist, his other hand took hold of her free wrist as well, and he held both tightly as he frowned at her. “What’re ya tryin’ to get away from me for, girl?” he asked in a lowered voice.
The Visions of Ransom Lake Page 14