But Autumn only laughed. “Clearly you don’t know my daddy as well as you think you do,” she said. “He has a tendency to think that a shirt is just somethin’ somebody invented to make a man uncomfortable.”
Gentry laughed. “Yeah. I heard your mama gettin’ on him yesterday for workin’ without his clothes on.” He sighed, finished buttoning his shirt, and looked to her. “Now come on. Let’s get you home before your daddy thinks I’ve been up to no good where you’re concerned.”
Autumn nodded—smiled when Gentry took her hand and led her through the darkness of the old bridge to the other side. As they walked home, she listened to Gentry as he explained what her father had in mind for getting the pumpkin crop to the train station. But she couldn’t think about what he was saying. All she could think was how resplendent their moments in the old covered bridge had been. The feel of his lips to hers and the taste of his mouth were still fresh, and Autumn thought that, with all the beauty of autumn and harvesttime, there was nothing more wondrous, nothing more rapturous, nothing more delicious—nothing she’d rather do in all her life than be kissed again by Gentry James.
❦
Autumn sighed. She couldn’t seem to stop sighing! Lying in her bed late that night, she was restless. The moments spent in the old covered bridge with Gentry had been heavenly, blissful, and far more wonderful than any dream Autumn had ever dreamed. She still could not believe he’d kissed her! Surely she had merely imagined it all. Yet every time she closed her eyes, she could see him—Gentry James—standing before her with his rain-wet hair tumbling over his forehead—standing there all warm and shirtless, muscular, capable, and so entirely alluring! If Autumn kept her eyes closed, she could almost feel his arms around her, sense the taste of his kiss, and relive the ecstasy of being the object of his proactive affections.
“None else in nature doth compare,” she began to recite in a whisper. The poem she’d read weeks before in her mother’s book of scandalous poetry had been tripping through her mind since the moment Gentry had taken her hand and led her out of the bridge following their kiss. “Far fair beyond belief,” she continued, “is love’s first kiss that lovers share…and autumn’s rubied leaf.”
Autumn smiled, for it was only then that she realized the truth of the words penned by some long-ago poet. She—Autumn Lake—loved nature and all its beauty with a vibrant admiration. And yet the kiss she’d shared with Gentry was profound. Gentry’s kiss had evoked in Autumn an unquenchable, insatiable desire—a desire to linger in his arms, with her mouth pressed to his forever.
“None else in nature doth compare—far fair beyond belief—is love’s first kiss that lovers share and autumn’s rubied leaf,” she repeated.
Exhaling another heavy sigh of elation mingled with frustration at not being able to settle her mind and body, however, Autumn tossed in her bed. She fluffed her pillow and lay down on her side, hoping that if she gazed out her window long enough, the dark sky, silver moon and stars, and lace curtains billowing in a cool autumn breeze would lull her to sleep.
She could hear the sounds of an autumn night—the quiet breeze whispering through drying leaves, the soothing hoot of an owl somewhere in the distance. She could hear the quiet whisper of the brook as it trickled merrily down toward the larger stream far beyond. The dying fire in the hearth of her room crackled and popped once more before wood gave way to embers—embers that smelled of smoldering piñon and cedar. There still lingered on the late September air the sweet bouquet of wind-fallen apples sleeping in the orchard grass as well, and as the nectarous breeze paused to catch its soothing breath, Autumn heard the sound of hooves—of a rider.
Her eyes had been closed, autumn’s resplendent tranquility having settled her and sleepied her at last. But at the sound of horse hooves echoing through the night, Autumn’s eyes opened wide. It was nearly midnight—she knew it was, for the clock on her mantel had only just struck the hour moments before.
“Who would be out at this hour?” she whispered to herself. Sitting up in her bed, she rose on her knees and leaned out her opened window. Peering into the darkness, she was astonished at how bright the night actually was. The silver-white moon was so bright that all the horizon before was lit like some lustrous, sterling fairy land.
Autumn’s eyes narrowed as she peered out into the pearl scene before her. There was no light coming from the bunkhouse. No doubt Gentry had drifted off to sleep hours before. Autumn smiled and once more sighed at the thought of handsome Gentry James asleep so near. Next she looked to the barn, but the doors were closed, and there seemed nothing amiss nearby.
It was then, when she looked off to the west—toward the hills rolling just beyond the orchards—that was when she saw him. Autumn’s breath caught in her throat, and the hair on the back of her neck fairly stood on end. It was him! It truly was! There, in the distance, just beyond the orchard—there, astride a black horse so dark it looked as nothing more than a shadow in the pearled moonlight—there, with ribbons of white flowing out behind him in the breeze like a shredded, bloodied battle banner—was the Specter!
“The Specter!” she tried to say, but her voice was no more than a puff of soft air. “The Specter!” she again tried to call.
Suddenly, the black horse reared and broke into a gallop toward the old covered bridge. Autumn gasped as she watched the figure on the black horse blend into the dark of the night beyond her view. And then—then Autumn Lake sat trembling, shivering with mingled terror and delight. She had seen him! She had seen the Specter!
Chapter Nine
“I’m tellin’ you all, it was awful! I was so scared I couldn’t call out…not even for help!” Autumn explained as her mother, Aunt Myra, and Uncle Dan stood in the general store, listening with rapt attention the next morning. “I’ve never been so terrified in all my life,” Autumn said. Even at the mere memory of the sight of the Specter on the dark horizon, Autumn’s arms broke into goose bumps—a far different kind of goose bumps than the ones Gentry James had caused to race over her body the day before.
Dan sighed, shaking his head. “Well, you know what this means, don’t ya?” he asked.
“What?” Myra asked.
Shrugging broad shoulders, he answered, “I guess I’m gonna have to quit callin’ that Tawny Johnson a liar…and least where her claimin’ to see the Specter is concerned.”
“Are you sure you saw the Specter, honey?” Myra asked. “Are you sure it’s wasn’t just somebody else ridin’ past the orchard?”
“At that time of night, Aunt Myra?” Vaden offered. “Nope. Autumn saw the Specter. I’m sure of it.”
“I swear, Auntie Myra,” Autumn assured Myra. “As sure as I’m standin’ here before you…that Specter was ridin’ out by our orchards last night.”
Ransom entered the store then, carrying two large pumpkins, one under each arm. “I see Autumn’s told you all about what she saw last night.” He smiled. “Myra, you’re as pale as a winter moon.”
Myra put a hand to her bosom and inhaled a deep breath. “Well, it’s one thing when Tawny Johnson and all the other silly girls in this town claim to see the Specter…but when Autumn here starts seein’ him too, then it’s time to start thinkin’ seriously about it, Ransom.”
Gentry entered the general store, lugging a large crate of apples. The moment he stepped into the room, Autumn was all atingle. And when he smiled at her, displaying those delicious dimples she loved, her heart swelled so that she thought it might burst.
“Thanks for bringin’ those in today, Ransom,” Dan said, sauntering across the room to where Ransom and Gentry were piling the pumpkins and crates of apples for the general store to sell. “I coulda just come out there and got ’em myself, you know.”
“Oh, I know it,” Ransom said. “But I also know a certain young lady whose birthday is just around the corner, and her mama is needin’ a few things for the celebration, I think.”
Autumn smiled as her father winked at her. She’d nearly forgotten th
at her birthday was less than a week away.
“And besides, I think Gentry was mighty glad to come into town today and find a letter and those wages William Jones sent down,” Ransom added.
“Yes, sir,” Gentry agreed. “I sure was. For one thing, I’m needin’ a new coat if I’m gonna winter out here. Where I’m from, it don’t get as cold as Ransom says you folks are used to.”
Autumn sighed with renewed relief. When her father had explained to Gentry that William Jones had indeed sent Gentry’s cattle drive wages down to Doc Sullivan from Denver, she’d been afraid Gentry would up and leave—head for Denver, even though he’d been planning to work for her father through the winter. But when Gentry explained he did indeed plan to stay on and help Ransom, Autumn’s joy had been complete. She’d been so worried that something, or someone, would strip him away from her. And though she and Gentry had not had one moment alone in each other’s company since arriving home from weathering the rainstorm in the bridge the day before, she knew by the way he smiled at her that he did not regret their kisses.
“Well, you’re in luck, son! We got coats comin’ out our ears,” Dan chuckled. “Myra has decided that everybody on the face of the earth gets as cold as she does come winter, so we’re well stocked. Take your pick.”
As Gentry followed Dan to the back of the store where the coats and boots were kept, Ransom asked Myra, “So…you were sayin’ a lot of folks have been seein’ the Specter these past couple a weeks, Myra?”
Myra nodded. “Yes. And not just the regular liars like Tawny Johnson,” she affirmed. “Nate Wimber seen him and Riley…though none of them Wimber men are welcome in my store right now.”
Ransom frowned, nodded, and mumbled, “Dang right.” He winked at Autumn to comfort her, however.
“Then there’s Candy Johnson, and you know she ain’t a liar like her sister,” Myra added. “Candy takes after her father…fortunately.”
“Anybody else?” Vaden asked. Autumn glanced to her mother and almost giggled. She could tell her mother was as delightedly terrified about the Specter sightings as she was.
“Oh my, yes, Vaden!” Myra exclaimed. “Old lady Tibbits seen it out behind her house two nights ago. Jasper Wyatt says he and his father saw the Specter ridin’ across their property when they were out to their barn last week. There’s plenty of folks that have seen the Specter. There’s even some concern about whether or not the young folks oughta be puttin’ up the spook hollow this year. But you know it’ll get done one way or the other. Fact is, havin’ the possibility of the Specter showin’ up out at the spook hollow during the county fair will make it all the more intriguin’.”
“I know I’ll go this year…especially if anyone sees the Specter out there before then,” Vaden said.
“For pity’s sake, woman,” Ransom growled, though a smile of amusement spread across his handsome face. “You couldn’t sleep for a week after that dang spook hollow last year.”
Vaden’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, and Autumn giggled as her mother said, “I know!”
“What about you, honey?” Myra asked Autumn then. “Are you gonna brave the spook hollow again this year?”
“Of course I am,” she assured her aunt. “If I can brave the old covered bridge every time I’m comin’ home from the pumpkin fields, then surely I can brave the silly old county fair spook hollow.”
“I sure do like that old covered bridge,” Gentry said as he and Dan returned to the group. Autumn blushed. Gentry grinned, adding, “Yep. It’s a fine, fine bridge in my estimation. I don’t think I’d mind walkin’ that old bridge every day if I had reason to.”
“Everybody likes that old bridge,” Dan chuckled. He winked at Myra and mumbled, “I know Myra and me do. When a man wants a little extra sparkin’ with his woman…that ol’ covered bridge is just the place.”
“Dan Valmont!” Myra scolded, blushing vermilion and slapping her husband playfully on one shoulder.
Gentry’s smile broadened and Autumn’s blush deepened as Ransom offered, “Oh, I hear you there, Dan. Why, many’s the time me and Vaden found ourselves out at that old bridge, strippin’ off our—”
“Ransom Lake!” Vaden exclaimed, clamping a hand over her husband’s mouth. “Don’t you dare say another word about it!”
Autumn’s eyebrows arched in amusement as she noted the deep crimson blush on her mother’s face.
But Ransom chuckled and pushed Vaden’s hand from his mouth. “All I was gonna say was we like to strip off our boots and socks and give our feet a nice refreshin’ soak in the stream.”
“I am gonna turn you over my knee and paddle your behind when we get home, Ransom Lake,” Vaden grumbled, still red as a radish.
“Promise?” Ransom teased.
Vaden rolled her eyes with exasperation. “Oh, Myra, I am so sorry!” Vaden exclaimed. “The devil has certainly got in him today.”
But Myra and Dan were too busy laughing, their eyes filled with mirthful moisture, to pay any mind to whether Ransom’s teasing was improper.
“Gentry is gonna think you’re a scoundrel, Ransom Lake,” Vaden scolded.
“Oh, he already knows I am, darlin’,” Ransom assured his wife as he gathered her into his arms.
“I’ll be gettin’ to the rest of those pumpkins, Ransom,” Gentry said, trying to keep from chuckling himself. He winked at Autumn on his way out of the store, and butterflies fluttered so wildly in her stomach that she nearly took flight herself with internal pleasure.
She bit her lip to contain her delight as her mother began gently beating on her daddy’s chest, demanding, “You let me go, Ransom Lake. I’m mad at you!”
“Are you now?” he asked. But as Autumn watched her daddy kiss her mother hard on the mouth—watched her mother instantly cease in struggling to escape him—she sighed with contentment.
“Oh!” Dan exclaimed. “That boy forgot his coat. Will you run this on out to the wagon for him, Autumn?” he asked, offering the coat to Autumn.
“Of course,” Autumn agreed, taking the coat and turning to head out to the wagon. But Gentry was too capable, and by the time she was outside of the store, down the boardwalk, and to the pumpkin- and apple-laden wagon, he was on his way back in, carrying two large pumpkins.
“Your coat?” she said as he approached her.
“Just toss it in the wagon for me, will you?” he asked, smiling at her.
“Anything you ask,” she whispered as she continued toward the wagon. “Anything at all, Gentry James.”
Autumn placed Gentry’s new coat under the seat of the wagon. The ripe happiness in her heart was something she’d never imagined. He liked her—Gentry really liked her. Maybe he didn’t love her, at least not yet, but like led to love—at least in most stories Autumn had read.
Her mother had loved her father the moment she’d seen him, and her father had done likewise of her mother. Yet to expect that Gentry’s feelings for her would be as instant as hers were for him, that would be just too impossible. It was different for her mother and father—wasn’t it?
As a hand clamped over her mouth from behind, Autumn gasped. A strong arm encircled her waist, pulling her away from the wagon and into the alley between the general store and the tailor shop. She tried to struggle, but before she knew what had happened, she found herself pinned back against the tailor shop’s wall, with Riley Wimber’s hand over her mouth, his body roughly pressed against hers, preventing any escape.
“Now you settle down, Autumn Lake,” he growled, “or I’ll see to it that your old, bowlegged Uncle Dan takes a fall from his horse next time he’s a big enough idiot to mount it, you hear me?” Autumn continued to struggle a moment until Riley added, “Or maybe I’ll just stick a knife in the gut of that purty cowboy your daddy has workin’ out at his place. Hmm? Is he all healed up from the last beatin’ I gave him yet?”
Pushing his hand from her mouth, Autumn said, “My daddy will kill you for touchin’ me, Riley Wimber!”
“Do
you think so?” Riley asked, covering her mouth with his hand once more. “You think your daddy can’t get hurt, don’t you, Autumn? Do you think big, bad ol’ Ransom Lake can’t bleed and die like every other man? Well, I’ll tell you somethin’. He can. Ol’ Ransom Lake can die just like every other human bein’. And if you cause any more trouble for me, that’s what’s gonna happen. It might be your Uncle Dan, your daddy’s purty hired boy, or your daddy hisself…or even your mama…but somebody’s gonna pay if you cause me any more trouble. Do you know what folks are sayin’ about me? Hmmm?” He slammed her head back against the wall hard—hard enough she knew it would leave a goose egg behind. As tears began to trickle over her cheeks, Riley put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “You think you’re too good for me, don’t you, Autumn? Well, you ain’t. I want you…and I’ll have you. One way or the other, I’ll have you.”
Autumn began to cry as Riley bent and kissed her neck. “I’ve always been partial to you, Autumn,” he said. “Don’t you fuss at me now,” he warned, and she felt his free hand leave her waist and slide upward. She began to struggle as she felt him begin to run his hand over her chest, then over her stomach, and back up to settle on her bosom.
“Don’t you cry, Autumn…and don’t you dare scream,” he threatened. “And if you tell anybody about what we’ve been sharin’ here…if you tell anybody how much you want me to touch you like this…and how, if the truth be known, you’d be willin’ to let me do anything I want to ya…then I’ll see to it that somebody in your family gets hurt, sweetheart. I mean it. Don’t you say a word to that arrogant daddy of yours. One word, Autumn—just one—and somebody you love will pay for your stupidity. Now…do you understand me?”
Autumn sobbed, even though no sound could escape her mouth, for Riley’s hand was pressed so firmly against it she was sure her teeth had cut the inside of her lips.
“You used to like me, Autumn,” Riley said then. “Remember? When we were kids? We used to play out in the schoolyard. Do you remember that?”
The Haunting of Autumn Lake Page 13