Returning with the water and cloths, Dan said, “Help me to sponge this blood away, Vaden, so we can see the damage.”
“I’m telling you, Uncle Dan…someone we know has done this! If you won’t believe it’s Jerome Clayton, you must admit there is a reason I found him tied to a tree in that old elm grove.” Vaden’s eyes pled with her uncle for understanding.
Dan nodded and placed an arm about her shoulders. “Well, as bloodied as the knuckles are on these two boys, somebody will have a couple of black eyes and split lips, and that won’t be easy to hide. I ’spect the light of mornin’ will tell us a bit.”
“This is my fault,” Vaden cried, burying her face in her hands. “Somehow, I’m not certain yet how, but somehow I’ve caused this to happen. I refused Jerome’s attentions, and now he…he…”
“That’s nonsense, child!” Myra corrected, wringing the blood-saturated cloth into the bowl of water. “Nonsense.”
Vaden could only sit beside the battered, mutilated body of Ransom Lake and cry her tears of pain and guilt. She knew somehow Jerome had had a hand in this beating—a hand in the near murder of Ransom Lake and his brother. And she knew it was her fault. The guilt she bore was unendurable, and she thought for a moment of the pain, of the guilt, Ransom had borne for so many years. But that had been quite different. He had not been responsible for the brutal murders of his family. He had been blameless. But she was the cause of this. She knew it. Jerome had done this to Ransom and all for the sake of mad jealousy.
Doctor Sullivan arrived soon and tended to Ransom’s wounds. “He’s in a bad way,” he said. “But there doesn’t seem to be any internal injuries. He’ll recover, though he’ll be sore and stiff for a while.” After checking on Denver as well, the doctor left, and Myra forced the girls to bed.
“I’ve caused this, Yvonne,” Vaden whispered as they lay in their beds. “Jerome did this. I’m telling you, he’s mad. He’s so completely different from what he appears.”
“I’m afraid for them, Vay,” Yvonne began. “They were nearly killed. What if whoever did this tries again? What if…”
Vaden could hear the fear in her sister’s voice. Until that moment, Vaden had never considered that perhaps Ransom and Denver would again find themselves in danger. The horror of the evening had been too prominent, too vivid, for her to think beyond. But as she realized the truth in Yvonne’s words, fear gripped her in its frigid vise grip, and she spent the remaining hours of early morning trembling with fear for Ransom’s life.
The next morning, the scene that met Vaden as she entered the kitchen caused her knees to give way beneath her. She only escaped fainting to the floor by holding the counter’s edge with a firm grip. Denver and Ransom sat at the table bandaged, bruised, and beaten beyond belief. Denver sipped broth from a cup. Ransom endeavored to do the same, though it was obvious the pain and stiffness in his mashed knuckles made it hard for him to hold the mug to his purple, bruised, and swollen lips.
“I’ve, uh…I’ve, uh…just been forcin’ somethin’ into these two boys, Vaden,” Myra said.
Yvonne was already there sitting beside Denver, a look of grief and concern puckering her dainty brow.
Vaden looked to Ransom. When his one unswollen eye met hers, she felt the tears escape their restraint and flood her cheeks.
“Tell them who did this to you, Ransom,” she whispered.
“Can’t,” he mumbled. “They were wearin’ masks.”
“You know who did this. I know who did this! Tell someone. They have to be punished! They can’t get away with trying to murder you,” she cried.
“We’ll take care of this on our own, girl,” Ransom growled.
“You can’t! You can’t possibly mean—”
“The wagon’s hitched, boys,” Dan announced as he entered through the kitchen door. “We’ll go whenever you’re ready.”
“You’re leaving?” Vaden shrieked. “You can’t go! You…neither of you is in any condition to—”
Ransom slammed a visibly very sore fist on the table. Then, rising to his feet slowly and awkwardly, obviously still in pain, he pointed a damaged index finger at Vaden and mumbled, “I don’t have the energy to argue with ya, Vaden. I’m goin’ home to my own house and my own bed. I need some rest, and I don’t think I can rest here. I couldn’t possibly rest when I know—”
“But—”she began to argue.
He tipped his head and closed his eyes, trying to draw patience from within himself, and said flatly, “Not now, Vaden.”
“We’ll be fine at the house, Miss Vaden,” Denver assured her as he stood and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sendin’ the girls along with ya, Dan,” Myra announced. Ransom started to protest, but Myra hurried on. “I want them to stay just long enough to see you two boys into bed and put somethin’ to warm on the stove for ya.”
“I haven’t got the fight left in me,” Ransom mumbled as he took the blanket she offered to him and wrapped it about his shoulders before leaving the house.
When they arrived at Ransom’s house, Vaden was frightened once more as Dan insisted he go into the house first, armed with his rifle. How could she possibly leave Ransom, knowing the danger he was in—knowing he was too weak to defend himself if someone were to attack him in such a state?
“I’ll be in my bed if you need me,” Ransom mumbled. “Not that I’d be any good for anything anyhow,” he chuckled.
“I’ll put this pot of broth on, Mr. Lake,” Yvonne said, lugging the large pot of chicken broth her aunt had sent with them into the kitchen.
“I feel like somebody chewed me up and spit me out,” Denver groaned as he awkwardly laid himself on the sofa in the front room. “But it was obvious it was Ransom they intended to…” He broke off his words, glancing quickly and apologetically to Vaden.
“I’m gonna have the sheriff look into this,” Dan stated. “Ain’t nobody should get away with somethin’ like this.”
Vaden stood wringing her hands furiously. She’d removed her coat and mittens and now stood feeling helpless and panicked.
“Run on in there and check on him, will you, Miss Vaden?” Denver asked. “Make sure he went into bed. You know what a hardhead he is. He probably snuck out the back door to check on the stock.”
Vaden nodded, more than willing to check on Ransom. She entered the hallway and made her way past one room with a locked door to another room to her left. There on his bed, already sound asleep, lay Ransom Lake. He looked peaceful enough. Vaden watched him breathing for several moments to assure herself he did so. Then, as she was turning to leave him to his much-needed rest, a flash caught the corner of her eye, and she turned to look at the wall across from the foot of Ransom’s bed.
What she saw there in the morning sunlight beaming in through the window amazed her. There were shelves on the wall starting from just a foot or so above the floor and rising to the ceiling. These shelves were heavily laden with all varieties of color and sizes of beautiful geodes! There were perhaps in excess of one hundred and fifty sets of them. A large geode, standing some two feet tall and bursting with amethyst crystals, sat in one corner. In awe, Vaden walked to the shelving and looked up and around at the many beautiful stones. On the shelf directly before her sat two stones, each singular, with no matching mates like the other stones owned. Reaching out, she took in her hands the two stones—the twins of the ones that had been left for her—the ones she thought her Uncle Dan had given her. All the time, it had been her one true love who had tried to cheer her heart, give her back her hope by bestowing Mother Nature’s wonders upon her. Never had she seen, never had she imagined, such a collection of anything, let alone something so beautiful, unique, and marvelous as these rare stones.
Replacing the twins to her stones, she turned and looked at Ransom once more. Going to his bed, she knelt beside it and placed a hand on his head, letting her fingers bury themselves in the softness of his hair.
“In
my dreams…I knew it was you,” she whispered. He did not wake or move at all. She stared at him for some time before finally kissing him tenderly on the forehead and leaving the room.
“He’s got quite a collection in there, hasn’t he?” Denver mumbled from his place on the sofa as Vaden reentered the front room.
“Yes,” Vaden agreed. “I’ve never imagined the like.”
“Collection?” Yvonne asked, her brows meeting in a puzzled expression.
“Yes. The finest collection of geodes I’ve ever seen. He must have hundreds of rocks in that room of his,” Denver added. His voice was becoming lower and somewhat slurred, making it obvious he too was near to a deep slumber.
Yvonne’s eyes twinkled, and her bright smile comforted Vaden as she looked at her warmly and with understanding.
“I guess he’s got to have something beautiful in his room…since he’s kept himself from marrying a pretty girl all this time,” Denver mumbled. Yvonne and Vaden quickly looked to Denver, surprised at his inference. He smiled at them wearily. “But he’s got me here now. Maybe finding each other again will heal both our hearts, eh?” Denver winked at Yvonne with one of his bruised eyes, and she blushed profoundly.
“Let’s get on home, girls,” Dan said. “These boys need their rest, and we got a lot to do.”
Leaving Ransom Lake at that moment was the hardest thing Vaden ever had to do. He was so weakened and vulnerable physically, and she feared another attack on him would be fatal.
As it went, Jerome had been out of town visiting an aunt and uncle up north when the incident with Ransom and Denver had occurred. Apparently he was innocent, Dan said. But the look in his eyes and Vaden’s own instinct told her differently.
After a week or so, Denver and Ransom entered the store one morning looking quite healthy and robust. Their bruises were fading to a yellowish-green tinge, and both of Ransom’s heavenly eyes were visible again. Vaden’s heart swelled to near bursting when they entered, for she felt certain Ransom would be different toward her, more willing to show deeper feeling for her. But her elation was quickly squelched, for he simply smiled and nodded at her casually as he and Denver approached the counter.
“We’ve come to thank your family for delivering us from certain death,” Denver told Yvonne, who immediately began blushing and smoothing her skirt. “We’re quite strong and healthy once more, and we owe you all a great debt.”
“Oh! Oh, that’s a ridiculous thing to say, Mr. Lake,” Yvonne stammered. It was the first time Vaden had heard her sister veer from propriety and argue a compliment or gratuitous remark. “And may I say that you do look very…quite healthy.”
Vaden’s eyes widened at her sister’s awkwardness. As of yet, Yvonne had confided no tremendous confession as to her feelings for Denver. But it was all too obvious, and it delighted Vaden, yet at the same time breaking her heart, for Denver was completely attentive to Yvonne. He held nothing back. His regard for her, his admiration of her, and his profound interest in her were obvious. Vaden glanced to Ransom, but his eyes only narrowed intensely as he looked at her. For a moment, her gaze fell to his mouth, to his perfectly formed, delicious mouth, and she thought of his kiss, intensely longing for it. She’d tried to keep her dreams of him at bay—her dreams of being his completely, of his marrying her, raising their children with her, holding her in his arms every night of their lives. But it was impossible and excruciatingly painful. At that very moment, she winced at the pain piercing her heart.
“It was Jerome Clayton,” she suddenly blurted out.
Denver and Yvonne both looked to her, and Ransom continued to almost glare at her.
“They were masked, and it was dark,” Ransom mumbled. “There was no way to identify them. Besides, there were five. Not one.”
“You may as well know, Vay,” Yvonne began, “Uncle Dan questioned Nathaniel and Toby and the others. They truly know nothing, though they do admit to avoiding association with Jerome as of late.”
Vaden indignantly looked from one person to the other, finally settling on Ransom. “Why are you so set on denying it? I think you know full well, just as I do, who tried to—”
“I think you want it to be Jerome, Vay,” Yvonne accused. “But…he’s too weak, too sneaky…a coward. Offending you alone is one thing, but two grown men who are much larger than he and—”
“He’s a weasel,” Denver finished. “At least…from what I hear. He’s too big a coward to attempt something like this. And those men who attacked us were strong. It wasn’t a group of lilac-perfumed boys that beat us.”
“Let’s just drop this,” Ransom mumbled, going to look at some boxes of work gloves lying at the end of the counter. “What’s done is done. And it won’t happen again.”
Vaden wanted to scream. Why were they all so set on denying what her heart told her was the truth? Why didn’t they want to confront the Claytons? Why did they all just want to go about their business and pretend the horror never happened?
At that moment, every drop of energy and every bit of the love of life in Vaden seemed to drain from her, and she promptly sat down on a chair. She looked up for a moment to where Ransom and Denver were looking through the boxes of gloves.
“Don’t be angry with me, Vay,” Yvonne said quietly as she came to stand beside her sister. “I…I just think maybe you’re not thinking things through well enough.”
“Were you robbed?” Vaden asked suddenly.
Denver and Ransom both looked to her inquisitively.
“Was anything stolen from you?”
“No,” Denver answered plainly.
“Then…explain to me the reason these men chose to ambush you and beat you…and tie Ransom to a tree in the very grove of elms where…” Vaden’s voice faltered as Ransom’s glare intensified.
“I think maybe we should come back for the things we need later, Denver,” Ransom mumbled to his brother.
Vaden shook her head and fought to hold back her tears as she stood, saying, “No. No. You go ahead and get the things you need. I’ll leave.” She walked to the front door, took her coat from the coat rack, and wrapped her scarf snugly about her neck. “I’ll be back later, Yvonne,” she announced as she pulled on her mittens. “A walk will do me good.”
The moment she left the store, her tears burst through her resolve and flooded her cheeks. As quickly as she could, she ran through the muddied street and turned down the road leading to Ransom’s house. Wiping in irritation at her tear-saturated cheeks, she slowed her pace to a brisk walk as she looked off in the direction of her tree, of her brook, of her solace. But she doubted their power to calm her this day, for she did not understand. She did not understand everyone’s need to deny what she knew to be true. She did not understand Ransom leaving her a tender note one moment, taking her passionately in his arms the next, and then nearly ignoring her.
Perhaps, she thought as she hurried along, perhaps it was time for her to return home. She’d fallen in love, and her love did not return the feeling, it appeared. But when she felt his hand catch hold of her arm, she sighed with relief. He’d come for her. She paused before turning around and said, “Why are you so cold and indifferent sometimes?”
“I’m never cold and indifferent to you, Vaden.” The sound of Jerome Clayton’s voice answering her question instead of Ransom Lake’s caused her to whirl about in horror, panic gripping her.
“Jerome?” she exclaimed.
He smiled at her pleasantly and innocently enough. “Glad to see me?” he asked. “I’ve been gone for some time. I had a nice visit, but…it’s always best to be home, isn’t it?”
Vaden wrenched her arm free of his grasp and stood staring at him in disbelief at his casual manner.
“And what have you been up to in my absence, Vaden?” he asked.
“I’m no idiot, Jerome.” Vaden drew in a deep breath, trying to muster her courage. “I’m not as easily fooled as everyone else in this town seems to be.”
“I k
now you’re no fool, Vaden. At least, most of the time ya seem to have your wits about ya. But…lately I’ve noticed—”
“Leave me alone, Jerome. You know I don’t want to talk to you, and my uncle—”
Suddenly, he reached out and gripped her chin firmly in one hand, tightly taking hold of her shoulder with the other. “Damn your uncle!” he growled as his face lowered to hers, his seething anger instantaneous.
“I know it was you, Jerome. Maybe you’ve got everyone else fooled, but not me. I’ve seen the true color of your soul, and it’s blacker than night!” Vaden tried to glare bravely back at him. Her only chance was to outwit him, for she knew he was physically stronger than she.
“Ya have such a way of muffin’ things up, Vaden. Actually…I suppose it’s Ransom Lake who muffs it all…but you—”
“Get your hands off her, boy!”
Vaden felt relief flood her body at the sound of Ransom’s voice coming from behind Jerome. Jerome sighed heavily and rolled his eyes in a gesture of extreme irritation. He shoved Vaden back as he released her and turned to face Ransom. Vaden saw then that Denver stood beside his brother, both men furious.
“Ransom Lake, you are so the proverbial thorn in my side.” Jerome simply shook his head as if he were too uninterested to deal with the men. “What is the problem, after all?” he asked. “I’m certain your hands have ventured on much more familiar areas of the girl than mine have.”
Ransom Lake’s deadly fist was halted a moment before it collided with Jerome’s jaw as Denver reached out and stayed his powerful arm.
The Visions of Ransom Lake Page 27