The Visions of Ransom Lake

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  She wanted to scream, No! I don’t understand! I love you, and you must at least care for me, else you wouldn’t have told me your secrets. Why can’t it happen every day, every minute? But she nodded and muttered, “Yes.”

  She sat for long minutes that turned into an hour, simply staring into the flames of the fire as the wind moaned outside, causing anxiety to settle into her mind. Ransom Lake continued to sit on the floor before the hearth, toying with the poker every now and again, causing sparks to rise and crackle from the burning logs.

  “I’ve learned a lot tonight, haven’t I, Mr. Lake?” Vaden said softly as she finally stretched out on the sofa, pulling to her shoulders a dusty, heavy quilt folded in half long ago and laid on the back of it. He sat down on the floor before her, resting his back against the sofa. “I’ve grown up quickly tonight. I’ve learned the elements of heaven and earth can endanger a person’s life. I’ve learned there are things people have witnessed, have experienced…things only nightmares are made of. Things that eat their hearts away and leave their minds scarred and tormented. Things that can never be forgotten or put aside.”

  “It’s a lot to realize in such a short time. But that’s usually how such things go. They blindside ya. Ya don’t expect them or see them comin’,” Ransom Lake added. He put down the poker he still had in hand, turned, and looked at her. “And what else have ya learned, Vaden?” His gray eyes narrowed, his features soft, his chest rising and falling slowly with his calm breathing.

  She smiled at him, though she was beginning to feel sleepy. “I’ve learned I was right about you, Mr. Lake.”

  “Ya were?”

  “You are an angel in disguises. Disguises both physical and of character.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Ya think you’re pretty smart, don’t ya?”

  “I am. I am very smart, Mr. Lake” she answered, returning the warmth of his smile in her own. She would not call him by his given name, for she sensed it would be her complete undoing. She sensed she would lose her ability to resist throwing herself at his feet and begging for his love. She smiled mischievously at him then and whispered, “I’m so smart I’ve figured out that you’re twenty six years old. I think you look twenty-six.”

  He chuckled and shook his head, amused at her again. “Is that good or bad?”

  “You figure it out,” she giggled softly. Her eyelids were feeling heavy and hard to keep open. Even though the dream-borne vision of Ransom Lake was only inches away from her, an apparition of reality before her very tired eyes, she was giving into the warmth of the room and the need for rest. Her anxiety about the storm was gone, for the security he radiated was strong and reassuring. Just before her eyes closed completely and she drifted off to sleep, Ransom Lake pressed his thumb to his lips, placing the same thumb to her own lips for a moment.

  “Goodnight, Sleepin’ Beauty,” he whispered.

  “Cinderella,” she corrected, and she heard him chuckling as she drifted into a light, uncomfortable sleep.

  

  She dreamt visions, horrid visions that might have tainted the memory of Ransom Lake. She could smell the death at the wagon train when the young man had returned to find his family slaughtered. She could smell the dirt as the young man dug shallow graves, hear the sound of the shovel cutting the earth as he worked. She could feel the grief, the overwhelming, unendurable grief piercing his heart every minute for days, weeks, and years to come. And the pain of the grief was suffocating. It burned in her throat as she watched the visions in her mind. It hurt her limbs and body.

  Vaden awoke with a start, her muscles aching from the tension in her body. She couldn’t move for a moment, paralyzed with the grief and horror of her dreams. When finally she could move, she looked to see Ransom Lake standing before the hearth once more. Her intuition told her he hadn’t slept as she had—hadn’t dozed for even a moment. He stood staring into the fire, blazing warm and orange. His feet were planted firmly apart, and his massive, muscular arms were folded across his chest. He had removed his shirt, and it lay haphazardly over the arm of a nearby chair. Vaden was quiet for long moments just watching the man who watched the fire. His frown was intense and furrowed his brow deeply. He was lost in his thoughts, and she knew they were grim, for his jaw was clearly tensed. The room was still only lit by the fire, burning almost too violently, heating the room beyond comfortable. No light streamed in through the dusty windows, and Vaden surmised it was still very early morning. So deep in thought was Ransom Lake, in fact, he didn’t see Vaden rise quietly from the sofa, and he did not turn to look at her when she quietly walked to stand behind the man.

  Vaden’s heart was heavy in her bosom with the sympathy she felt for the man she loved. What tragic horror he had endured. It was no wonder to her he had withdrawn from the world, hidden himself away from any chance of being hurt again. Then her love for him, her profound and endless love for him, coupled with the anguish in her heart for his pain, overtook her prudence, and she moved forward, pressing her cheek to his back as her arms encircled his waist in a loving embrace. Immediately, she felt his body stiffen, and his hands covered her own linked one with the other at his waist.

  “I’m so sorry, for you, Mr. Lake. For your pain. I’m sorry everything was taken from you so violently. I’m sorry for the scars it left in your heart and soul,” she whispered to him. Vaden scolded herself inwardly, for she felt the fool then. Ransom Lake had confided his deepest secrets to her, and as she looked back on the conversation now, she was angry with herself, for her experience on Halloween paled so greatly to his. Further, he had blamed himself for her pain of that night. He had only placed further burdens on his already guilt-ridden mind. As her tears moistened the flesh of his back, she whispered once more, “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you,” he mumbled as he removed her hands from his waist and walked forward and out of her embrace. “Only I’m not certain if I did the right thing in tellin’ you.”

  “Of course you did,” she assured him, a bit embarrassed at acting so familiar with him. “A burden is not meant to be borne alone.”

  “But now I’ve taxed your mind with the horror of it. You’ll never be free of the knowledge again.” He paused, clearing his throat, yet he still mumbled when he continued. “It was wrong of me to deprive ya of your innocence in yet another area of life.” He turned to face her, his eyes narrowed, his voice low and angry as he spoke. “I’ve corrupted you in a manner. Before I interfered, ya knew no difference between the touch of one man compared to another. Ya knew nothin’ about the weakness of a man when his physical desires were taunted. Ya knew nothin’ about such horrors as murder, mutilation, and guilt.”

  “You make me sound like quite the complete idiot, Mr. Lake,” Vaden snapped at him. “Aren’t all those things part of human existence? Just because I experienced them at your hand doesn’t mean I am corrupted! I think what you really mean to say is in your eyes I’m marred somehow. Weak because I succumbed to your…to your…”

  “To me,” he prodded.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “I meant no such thing, and ya know it,” he argued then. “I only meant to say that…you’ve changed in the past weeks, and don’t deny it is mostly on my head.”

  “I don’t.” Vaden softened her voice then. “You’ve taught me much these past weeks. I’ve told you already what I’ve learned just this very night. And in the weeks past there have been many things of life I have learned at your hand. None of them, whether good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant, would I trade. For they are things that will help me in life, one way or the other, in my considerations, my decisions.” Swallowing hard and straightening her back, she looked at him determinedly and added, “And now I will be bold and forthright in telling you that…that you’re wrong not to tell your brother you’re alive. Consider his pain and loss for a moment.” She stopped talking when he raised his hand in a gesture indicating she silence herself and shook his head.

  “Don’t make me regret conf
idin’ in ya any more than I already do, Vaden,” he growled. He looked at the ceiling for a moment as if to gain control of his thoughts and then looked back to her, saying, “The storm stopped almost an hour ago. I figure the sun will be up in a few more hours. We’ll leave for home at the first sign of it.”

  At his mention of their leaving this secluded place, this place where he had opened his heart to her, Vaden felt immense sorrow and fear. Never again would she have him wholly to herself, completely hold him so near to her…so solitarily near to her.

  “Now, why don’t ya try to rest some more?” he mumbled, turning from her and back toward the fire.

  “Quit treating me like a child!” she cried out, causing him to turn, surprise dominating his expression. “I don’t want to rest anymore! Don’t you see that? In a short time we’ll leave here, and…and this won’t ever happen again! You won’t ever again confide in me as you have this night. You won’t ever share such intimate conversation with me like you have tonight. We’ll be back in town with every woman in the world groveling for your attentions, and I’ll go back to being the irritating little girl at the mercantile who is forever and always an inconvenience to you. I’ll go back to being your little friend instead of someone you confide in. Someone you choose to…” His eyes narrowed, and after inhaling deeply to try to calm herself, Vaden added, “I don’t want to rest anymore. So please…please quit ordering me to do it as if I were—”

  “I have not once treated ya like a child tonight, Vaden,” he protested calmly. “You’re hung up on thinkin’ I have ’cause ya think everyone else treats ya like one. But it’s not true. People who care for you are protective of ya. They like to handle ya with kid gloves, protect ya from agony and harm. That doesn’t mean they consider you a child. I think my personal treatment of ya proves that I, for one, do not look upon you as a child, Vaden.” He moved toward her, reaching out and taking her shoulders between his powerful hands. His eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered. “But if more…convincin’ is necessary…then I for one am willin’.”

  “Why do you tease me so?” she asked, knowing full well he did indeed only tease her with his implications.

  “It’s in my nature to tease people I like,” he answered, grinning. Then he lowered his voice as if he expected someone to enter the room and eavesdrop on their conversation. “You said it yourself. In a short time we’ll go back to town, and everything will return to normal. No more bearin’ our souls to each other, no more findin’ comfort in each other’s arms. And definitely no more tasty kisses.” Vaden looked away shyly for a moment. “Things will be different than they are at this moment. No doubt I’ll look back at this night and beat my brain to death for allowin’ this to happen. No doubt you’ll look back on me as the man who taught you too much about life. And you’ll be relieved to be rid of me because of it.” His hands encircled her neck, his thumbs caressing her throat lightly. “But,” he whispered, “I suppose we can both live with our guilt and whatever method it chooses to torture us. Can’t we? We can each live with it for one more taste of each other?”

  Vaden’s mouth began to water for want of his kiss, and a tear ran slowly down her face as she nodded, knowing this memory must live with her forever, for it would be the last of its kind.

  “And I’ll tell ya somethin’, Vaden Valmont,” he mumbled in the familiar provocative tone that was his. “Let go of your inhibitions toward me. Be the girl who fears nothin’, cares nothin’ for what anyone else thinks. Be yourself, Vaden, and I promise you…” He leaned forward, placing his cheek against her own as he whispered, “Ransom Lake is yours ’til sunrise. No matter what happens in the future. No matter who ya decide to live your life with, no matter who ends up in mine…right now I’m yours, just as I was that night in the wagon…and well you knew it, for you’re too smart not to have known it. And you know my word is sincere now.” He kissed her neck just below her earlobe tenderly, and ecstasy traveled over her. “You kiss me first, Vaden. Kiss me first. Prove to me the girl who found my soul, the one who drew me out of hidin’ from beneath my whiskers, is still there inside you…and I’m yours until daybreak…if ya want me to be.” He dropped his hands to his sides, stood erect, and stared at her with the gray intensity of his eyes.

  Vaden found it almost impossible to breathe. Her breath, in fact, was unregulated as she looked at him standing before her. Weeks ago she would’ve been able to draw the courage to kiss him quickly; she would not have even paused perhaps in the same situation. But self-doubt and uncertainty, as well as heartache, had scarred her deeply, and now, with what she wanted and loved most in the world standing before her, hers if only she would reach out and take it, she paused, frightened and unsure of herself. She was unsure of his sincerity in his promise. What if he only laughed at her? What if he drew away from her, having only been teasing her? But deep within her soul she knew better. Ransom Lake would never behave so.

  “You…you won’t laugh at me?” she whispered all the same, her confidence still lacking, the demon of doubt still causing her mind to question.

  Ransom Lake closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “Vaden,” he whispered and began to turn from her. Instantly, her hand shot out and clasped his. He paused, looking at her hand and then to her face questioningly. With the few shreds of courage left in her heart, she reached out and took his arm with her other hand, stepping closer to him. She focused her gaze on his hand she held as she tried to muster the bravery of her soul. In a moment, she released it, letting her palms caress the power in his arms and shoulders as her hands traveled up the muscular appendages to settle finally at the back of his neck.

  She felt his hands clasp her waist, sending goose bumps erupting over her body, and it gave her the courage to look up at him then. His eyes were narrow, calm, and expectant as he gazed at her. He was so handsome. She loved him so desperately! Her mouth watered, her body quivered. How would she find the courage to take what he offered?

  Trembling, she raised herself slightly on her toes and placed a lingering kiss on the cleft of his chin. Then she took his face gently between her small, trembling hands and tipped his head toward her, kissing him sweetly on the mouth. She was encouraged of his sincerity when he involved himself in that first tender kiss, as well as the more earnest one she administered next.

  Instantly, she was in his arms, held firmly against his body as the now familiar, powerfully passionate kisses he could manipulate burned between them. His strength and pain, his need and sincerity at being her own, for that time, were all evident as the magical hours passed—hours finding Vaden in awe of what was happening—hours of shared affections now tender and soft, now demanding and passionate. Often he would separate their mouths and hold her to him tightly, whispering her name with something like regret evident in his voice. Once he lifted her swiftly into his arms, going to the small sofa and sitting down with her on his lap where they sat in continuance of their affections, he always the gentleman in every respect, for he never attempted anything beyond impassioned kisses—kisses moist with flavor and barely restrained desire, perhaps, but he was ever the gentleman. Vaden was comfortable, for she knew he would not force any improper attention or affection.

  Vaden was breathless in his arms, so thirsty for his kiss it seemed no amount of time in drinking of it would quench her desire. His whiskers, rough against the tender flesh of her mouth, his hands so powerful—softly caressing her one moment, powerfully demanding her body meld with his the next—his mouth warm and moist, so familiar to hers, so passionately demanding. In those hours, Vaden knew absolute bliss.

  All too soon, light broke through the dusty west window of the old house, flooding the room with sunlight, further enhanced by the brightness of the snow outside. With the illumination lighting the room, the fire dying in the hearth, the spell Ransom Lake had twined about them began to fade.

  Taking her face in his hands and kissing her deeply, as if trying to satisfy a ravenous hunger one last time, he let his thumb trace her
tender lips, scarlet from his attentions, and whispered, “Our moment is lost with the sunrise, Vaden. Time to leave the fairy tale and return ya to your uncle. Who,” he added as he gently pushed her from his lap, “would strike me down dead if he knew what I’ve been doin’ to ya while you were in my care.”

  Standing, he walked to the chair sitting across the room and retrieved his shirt. Buttoning it quickly, and running his fingers through his tousled hair, he put on his hat and coat and pulled on his boots.

  What have you done to me, Ransom Lake? Vaden thought. In these few hours you’ve fulfilled my dreams of you and yet broken my heart!

  Picking up a bucket sitting near the front door, he exited the house, returning in a moment with the bucket full of snow. Vaden watched, relacing her boots slowly as he doused the fire in the hearth with the bucket of snow, causing steam and the odor of wet wood to rise in the room. Taking Vaden’s coat from the chair over which it lay, Ransom held it for her as she slipped her arms through the sleeves. Then, turning her to face him, he grinned, rather regretfully, as he buttoned the coat’s top button.

  “It’s freezin’ out there…but at least the wind isn’t blowin’. I put the horse back outside when the storm stopped, and she doesn’t seem any worse for the weather.” He opened the front door to the house and motioned for Vaden to precede him.

  Vaden’s eyes narrowed to a squint as the brightness of the sun’s reflection on the new-fallen snow met her eyes, so long adjusted to the dark. All was perfectly quiet—no rustling of wind through tree branches, no snowbirds’ songs or calls of wild geese. Not a sound. Vaden looked about for a moment, marveling at the endless horizon of undisturbed white powder and frost covering the earth. Her mesmerized wonderment was lost as Ransom Lake held his hand out to her to assist her into the cutter.