The Haunting of Autumn Lake

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “If you really could use the help,” Gentry began. Again Autumn’s heart leapt with hope.

  “I do,” Ransom confirmed.

  “Well, then…I suppose it would be best if I waited out the winter here,” Gentry mumbled. “If you really could use me.”

  Autumn sighed with relief and delight as her father struck hands with Gentry and said, “I can. But I warn you…I will work you hard.”

  Gentry nodded and smiled. “That’s the way I like it.”

  Ransom smiled at Autumn. “Go round up this man’s things, baby girl,” he said. “And won’t your mama be delighted to have another man to fuss over?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Autumn giggled as she hurried back into Doctor Sullivan’s patient room. She knew just where Gentry’s things were. She’d secretly sorted through them several times during the first few days of his convalescing. Doctor Sullivan had put them in an old carpetbag—not that his clothes were worth wearing, being all shot up and bloodied the way they were.

  “I’ll fetch his horse, Ransom,” Autumn heard her Uncle Dan tell her father. “He can follow along behind the wagon.”

  “Thank you, Dan,” Ransom said.

  He was going home with her! Gentry James was going home with her. Autumn could hardly believe it was true!

  The sudden memory of the feel of Riley Wimber’s hands on her threatened to ruin the moment of joy she was experiencing in knowing Gentry was staying on through the winter. But she refused to think about it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid thinking about it forever—that in the dark of night, the horror, humiliation, and feeling of violation would return, along with her tears. But for now—for now she would think only of Gentry—of his sitting at the supper table with her and her parents—of being able to look out across the pumpkin fields when harvest came and see him there too.

  But even Autumn’s determination not to worry over Riley Wimber and what he had done to her didn’t keep the fact that it had happened from haunting her. Even as she sat next to her father on the wagon seat as the team pulled them home—even with Gentry James stretched out in the wagon bed behind her—even though she knew her father would probably hang Riley Wimber if he ever touched her again—still the memory haunted her. She could still feel Riley’s hands on her, touching her where they never should have. And Autumn wondered—would the vile sensation ever leave her? Would her mind ever be free from the feelings of shame that the experience had left there?

  “I don’t want you thinkin’ on it, Autumn,” her father said at that moment—as if he’d known exactly what she’d been going over in her mind. “Those Wimber boys are filth…and you know it. Don’t you let what happened change you. Don’t you let it break your spirit and your ability to see the beauty in the world, honey. You promise me.”

  “I promise, Daddy,” Autumn sighed, slipping her arm through his and nuzzling against his strong shoulder. “I mean…it’s not like they buried me alive or anything, right?” she added. And it did help her somehow—the knowledge that her mother had once endured the most terrifying prank Autumn could ever have imagined—and at the hand of Riley Wimber’s father.

  “It was bad, Autumn,” Ransom said. “But I mean it. Don’t let your mind nest on it. Don’t let it eat you up. You did nothin’ wrong. Do you hear me?”

  “I do, Daddy,” Autumn sighed. “I hear you. And I hear geese off in the distance. And someone’s burnin’ leaves…probably old man Miller. He has those big maple trees right near his house. I bet they’re already losin’ a few leaves…and that the others are turning crimson right this minute.”

  Ransom Lake chuckled, leaned over, and kissed his daughter on the top of her head. Gentry grinned, for he knew exactly what Autumn was doing. Autumn wasn’t soothing her own mind about what had happened to her in town—she was soothing her father’s. She was distracting her father with her pretty thoughts and words. Gentry figured Ransom Lake was smart enough to know it too—as well as smart enough to allow his daughter to do it.

  All at once, Gentry couldn’t wait to meet the woman who had had more than a hand in bringing Autumn Lake into the world. He wondered if there really would be apple crisp for dessert after supper—and if Autumn’s mother really would fuss over him the way Ransom had said she would. He secretly hoped so—on both accounts.

  Chapter Seven

  Not only had there been warm apple crisp for dessert on Gentry’s first night at the Lake family’s home but Vaden Lake had indeed fussed over him exactly as if he were her own son. That first night spent with Autumn and her parents—it would be something Gentry would remember for the rest of his life. It was something he knew he would never quite get over—for it was a thing like he’d never experienced before.

  Vaden Lake was a beautiful woman. Though Autumn looked nothing like her physically, it was instantly apparent that mother and daughter shared the same character, personality, adoration for nature, and gift for storytelling. The conversation had been lighthearted at the supper table on that first night. Inside, Gentry simmered all warm and secure as he ate the best beef stew and fresh-from-the-oven bread he had ever tasted. He’d listened to the conversation between Ransom, Vaden, and their daughter, Autumn, finding it difficult not to burst into laughter every few minutes, for Autumn and her mother were very entertaining.

  That night he also learned that it was no wonder Autumn was such a treasure—such a beautiful, compassionate young woman who carried a perpetual sense of joy and wonder inside her at all times. Her mother and father were the most loving, affectionate couple Gentry had ever seen. Their flirtatious banter and tendency to kiss one another often (and many times passionately) not only was rare but also left a sense of comfort and delight lingering in a cozy farmhouse that always smelled of spice, sugar, and baked apples. Inside that house lived a glowing warmth that calmed the soul.

  It was also on that first night spent in the Lake house (for Mrs. Lake had insisted Gentry be much better healed before they put him up in the old bunkhouse) that Gentry gained a powerful insight into other matters concerning the family—specifically Autumn.

  Vaden Lake had placed fresh linens on one of the beds in the bedroom her sons had once shared. The room was comfortable and clean, and Gentry had expected to drop off to sleep immediately (once Vaden had literally tucked him into bed). But the events of the day—specifically Riley Wimber’s molestation of Autumn—left him restless, even for his profound fatigue and the renewed pain of his wounds.

  Therefore, nearly an hour after Vaden had tucked him into bed as if he were no more than a toddler, Gentry was still awake when he heard the soft sobbing coming from the room next to his—Autumn’s room. Awkwardly (for his body was stiff from the beating he’d taken in town and the new bruising at his ribcage), Gentry left his bed and settled in a chair that was sitting with its back against the far wall—the wall that was shared with Autumn’s room. He knew eavesdropping was evidence of bad manners—but who would expect any more from the likes of him? So he had shamelessly listened to the conversation between Autumn and her mother that first night spent in Ransom Lake’s family home.

  “I can’t forget it, Mama,” Autumn cried. “I hate Riley Wimber! I always have hated him!”

  “I know, darling,” Gentry heard Vaden soothe. He could tell by the emotion in her voice that Autumn’s mother was crying as well. “I know. But don’t let him do this to you! Don’t! You did nothing wrong. Nothing. And one day you will be able to let it go. One day a man will come along to love you the way your father loves me…and all this business with Riley won’t matter a whit. You’ll never be able to forget it, honey…but the memory and bad feelings will fade.”

  “Oh, I know what happened to me today wasn’t anything like what Riley’s father did to you all those years ago, Mama,” Autumn sobbed. “But it makes me sick! It makes me want to throw up and be sick!”

  Gentry had heard the tale of Vaden Lake—of the boys who had stolen her away one Halloween night and pretended to bury her alive, all at t
he bidding of a madman. He’d heard Doctor Sullivan talking about it with Autumn’s aunt and uncle one day while they were sitting with him just after he’d arrived in town. He’d laid there in his bed, listening and pretending to be asleep. Gentry couldn’t imagine how terrifying the experience must’ve been for a young girl only Autumn’s age when it happened. And yet he was enough of a man and had ridden around enough cowboys to know that what Riley Wimber was thinking where Autumn was concerned could be far more damaging even than what Autumn’s mother had endured.

  “I know, baby. I know,” Vaden said, drawing Gentry’s attention back to the conversation he was eavesdropping upon. “But please try to put it from your mind as much as you can. I lingered so long on what had happened to me. If it hadn’t been for your daddy…I think I might have let it ruin my life…or at least change who I was. Don’t let Riley Wimber have that control of you. Do not let him own any part of you, sugar.”

  “I know, Mama,” Autumn said. “But…but in a way…in a way he already does. He touched me the way no one ever should!”

  “I know, darling. But remember what I said. One day the man God sent just for you…that man will come along…the man you love more than your own life. And when he does, and once you’re married to him…then he can hold you in his arms, love you, and his touch…his loving husband’s touch will vanquish all that Riley Wimber has left in your mind. But until then, you need to keep from nesting on this, sweetheart. If you let it change you…if you let it strip away who you are and the beauty you see in life…then Riley Wimber wins. He’ll always own a part of you. And you cannot let that happen, baby. Do you understand?”

  “I do, but it’s so hard, Mama,” Autumn cried—though she sounded comforted, and the fact soothed Gentry somewhat.

  “I know, honey,” Vaden admitted. “But the trick is to put your mind on something else…something wonderful.”

  “But I can’t! I can’t think of anything other than Riley…of his hands on me and—”

  “What about that handsome cowboy Gentry James, who came to your rescue just like some hero out of a fairy tale?”

  Gentry leaned closer to the wall—listened with more intent. He was curious as to what Autumn would say about him—fearful of what she would say, yet hopeful at the same time.

  “Gentry?” Autumn said. “Oh, Mama…you should have seen him!”

  Gentry smiled at the sudden lilt in Autumn’s voice. At least he’d done something good for once.

  “He came stormin’ out of Doctor Sullivan’s office with an expression of…of…of I don’t know what kind of fury on his face,” Autumn began. “And before I even blinked, he’d taken hold of nasty ol’ Riley Wimber, called him a son of a you-know-what, and laid him out on the boardwalk! It was astonishin’, Mama! He was wearin’ nothin’ but his drawers and his boots, and…and he looked so…so…so I don’t know what! I still can’t believe the damage he did to those boys, even bein’ so injured and worn out the way he is right now.” Autumn paused, and Gentry listened harder. “I still can’t believe he did that for me, Mama…and I feel awful that he’s so banged up all over again…all because of me.”

  “He’s banged up because of Riley and those other boys…who, by the way, ought to be strung up by their thumbs and horsewhipped!” Vaden said.

  “Gentry’s so handsome, Mama,” Autumn said then.

  Gentry couldn’t help but smile. He’d been told he was a good-looking cowboy by plenty of women plenty of times—but being called handsome by a sweet thing like Autumn Lake folded every other hand.

  “I swear, when he smiles at me, my stomach hops up in my throat and my knees go all weak and wobbly. But don’t worry. I know he’s a cowboy. I don’t want you and Daddy worryin’ that I’m gonna…that Gentry James will steal my heart away or somethin’. I know he’s a cowboy, and cowboys always leave come spring. I know that. But can’t I just daydream about him all the same? Just for a time?”

  Gentry heard Vaden giggle. He smiled, thinking she and her mother sounded more like sisters than mother and daughter. And she wanted to daydream about him? He was flattered—downright blushing to his toes flattered. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe a girl like Autumn Lake would ever form any serious attachment to him. And he wasn’t stupid enough to think a man like Ransom Lake would let her. But it still made him feel like maybe he was worth a dollar and half after all.

  “Of course, sweet pea!” Vaden said. “Daydreaming is what keeps us sane sometimes. You go on thinking about Gentry James and how handsome he is…how heroic. You think on him instead of…instead of other things, all right?”

  “Yes, Mama,” Autumn said. “I do understand what you mean. And isn’t Gentry just the handsomest man you ever laid eyes on in all your life?”

  “There’s only one man on all the earth that’s more handsome to me, baby girl,” Vaden said.

  “And that would be Daddy…Handsome Ransom Lake,” Autumn giggled.

  “Exactly!” Vaden laughed. “Oh, he gets so riled up when anybody calls him that anymore. It tickles me near to death.”

  Autumn laughed as well. “Me too! He starts to blushin’ and everythin’. I adore that about Daddy.”

  “Don’t I know it. Now you get to sleep, sunshine,” Vaden said. “We’ve still got apples to worry over tomorrow, and Daddy wants you to show Gentry some things that need doing too. All right?”

  “Yes,” Autumn sighed. “I do feel better now. Thank you, Mama. I love you so much.”

  “I love you more, my Autumn angel,” Vaden sighed. “Now, I’m gonna go look in on that handsome cowboy who’s convalescing next door…just to make sure he doesn’t need anything before your daddy and I turn in. Sleep tight, my baby girl…and sweet dreams.”

  Gentry hadn’t heard anything else that might have been said between the two women; he’d been too busy trying to crawl back into his bed as quietly as possible.

  But in the days that followed, he learned more about Ransom and Vaden Lake than he’d ever imagined he could—for their daughter was as talkative and as good a storyteller as ever she had been during his convalescing at Doc Sullivan’s. Gentry learned a great deal concerning Autumn as well, but most of what he did learn came from his own observation and not what she told him.

  Thus, by lingering in such a nurturing environment, Gentry James healed quickly—quickly enough to take on more and more of Ransom’s chores so that his boss could oversee the finishing up of the apple harvest and prepare for bringing in the pumpkins.

  Within two weeks, Gentry was feeling quite his old self. He had a ways to go; his ribcage and bullet wounds reminded him of that every night with a deep soreness he was growing tired of. But there was one thing he wasn’t growing tired of—Autumn.

  Oh, he’d known she was a beauty. It was obvious to anyone with seeing eyes in his head that she was. But the longer he spent in her company, and the more friendly she became with him, the more Gentry James started wishing he were a man of means instead of an orphan who’d run away to cowboying at the age of twelve. A man like him had nothing to offer a girl like Autumn—no money, no land, nothing of any worth. But it didn’t keep him from admiring her—from allowing their friendship to deepen. And it didn’t keep him from doing things he knew would make her happy.

  One morning near the end of September, while Gentry was finishing up the milking of Ransom’s milk cows, Autumn came strolling into the barn like a sweet, refreshing breeze.

  “Daddy says he thinks I should turn Abner’s care over to you, Gentry…considerin’ everything,” she announced.

  Gentry sighed when he looked up to see the tears brimming in her eyes. “And what do you think, Autumn?” he asked, knowing full well what she thought.

  “I think I won’t even be able to sit down to Thanksgiving dinner this year,” she answered. A tear escaped her eye, and she quickly brushed it from her cheek.

  “Well, where did you think turkey on Thanksgiving came from all these years, punkin?” he chuckled, though his heart pinche
d with empathy. She was so kindhearted that even a dang turkey could wiggle its way into earning her love. Gentry thought she was all the more precious for it.

  “But Daddy never raised a turkey of our own before,” she explained. “He always just went out and shot one of the wild turkeys that roam around on the east property. This is different. I can’t possibly eat Abner! I’ve nurtured him from a poult! I’m near to bein’ his mother. How can I betray him like that? How could I eat him? I might as well take up bein’ a cannibal as to eat my own baby turkey.”

  Gentry couldn’t stop himself—she was too adorable—and a smile of amusement spread across his face. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat as well.

  Autumn frowned at him and brushed another tear from her cheek. “It’s not funny, Gentry James. Abner…he’s like a child to me,” she scolded with one dainty hand at her bosom as if her heart were truly aching. “So Daddy thinks you should take care of him from now on.”

  “Well, I think your daddy is a wise man,” Gentry kindly reassured her. “And I think you should be loyal to Abner and not eat him when the time comes. I’m sure, knowin’ you and your mama as I do, that there will be plenty of other things to eat on Thanksgiving Day so that you don’t have to even consider on eatin’ up your baby.” She nodded and forced an accepting grin. Still, Gentry’s common sense had to have its piece too. “But I do have to stand with your Daddy on the fact that this is a farm…and life can be hard when a farmer is providin’ things like food for his family.”

  “I know,” Autumn agreed. “I know. I know Abner’s purpose…to help us all show thankfulness for all the blessin’s we have. I do understand that…but I just can’t eat him. And I just can’t fatten him up for you all to eat either. All right?”