“Do I mean it?” he asked, grinning at her. “Hell yes, I mean it!”
Autumn sighed as instantly she was in Gentry’s arms, his mouth coaxing hers into a slow, measured, very seductive kiss. Her entire body quivered with pleasure, and her heart swelled with relief and joy as she slid one of her arms around his waist and the other around his neck.
“Don’t you think on that dirty son of a…that dirty weasel ever again, punkin,” Gentry mumbled against her mouth. “You let ol’ Gentry James here give you some kissin’ that dog only wishes he could. All right?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer but simply ground his mouth to hers in a very impassioned kiss that sent Autumn’s toes curling up inside her boots. New tears gathered in her eyes as she realized the kisses Gentry had rained on her in the old bridge the day before had been merely a teasing prelude to the ones he was bathing her in now!
His arms held her safe against the strength of his body, as his lips and mouth worked a spell of moist, heated longing and a strange, unquenchable satisfaction with hers. He smelled so good—so masculine and alluring! He felt warm and capable—and she knew he was.
All the vile guilt and ugly emotions that had been haunting her since Riley Wimber had accosted her earlier in the day were swept away from her thoughts and feelings as Gentry James continued to kiss her there in the pumpkin patch beneath the enchanting harvest moon.
After a long, particularly passionate series of hot, demanding kisses between them, Gentry broke the seal of their lips for a moment and mumbled, “Do you think your Daddy would’ve let me walk you home if he’d a known I was plannin’ on slurpin’ you up like a bowl of puddin’?”
Autumn smiled at him—ran her fingers up the back of his neck to bury them in the softness of his hair. “Clearly you don’t know my daddy as well as you think you do,” she teased him. “You should see him have at my mama when they don’t think I’m lookin’.”
Gentry smiled. “Then pass the puddin’ around the table again, darlin’. I’m hungry!”
Autumn giggled as Gentry’s mouth began to slowly discover hers again. She took his face in her hands, pressing her thumbs into his dimples when he smiled a little. The thrill of the sensation drove her to near madness, and she took hold of his shirt collar, kissing him furiously. And Gentry’s response? Wrapping her in his arms again, he applied to her mouth such a feverish kiss as to make Autumn’s heart feel as large and golden as the harvest moon watching them.
❦
Ransom Lake exhaled a heavy sigh. Tucking his hands behind his head as he lay in bed, he gazed out the window to the pale pumpkin-colored moon.
“What’s the matter, handsome?” Vaden asked as she slipped into bed beside him. She laid her head on his chest, hugging him around the stomach with one soft arm. “Are you still worried about Autumn?” she asked. Ransom could feel the unrest in his wife and began to slowly caress her arm that was on his stomach. “I know I am.”
“Yes and no,” Ransom answered. “I was thinkin’ about the fact that she won’t tell us what went on today to upset her…though I have my suspicions.”
“Riley Wimber?” Vaden offered.
“Mm hmm,” Ransom mumbled. “But I expect she’s told Gentry what happened by now…and that’s all right with me. That’s the way it should be.”
“But you’re struggling with the fact that there’s a man in her life now that she’s telling things to that she won’t be telling her daddy anymore, is that it?”
Ransom chuckled. “Woman…you’re too smart for your own good.”
Vaden sighed. “Well, maybe she won’t tell Gentry what happened, Ransom. Maybe we still need to wait awhile longer and then ask her ourselves.”
“Nope. I expect she’s told Gentry already.” Ransom paused and grinned, adding, “Or else he’s wormed it out of her…one way or the other.”
Vaden giggled. “You mean he’s kissed it out of her.”
“Exactly,” Ransom admitted. He chuckled again. “I do like the way her eyes light up whenever she sees him. But…bein’ put out to pasture is hard on a father’s heart all the same.”
“I understand. When the boys all left, I thought, what if their wives can’t make a good biscuit to save their lives? Then my poor boys will be stuck eating biscuits that taste worse than hardtack. I know it’s different with fathers and daughters…but it’s similar too.”
Vaden hugged him tighter, nuzzling against his chest and warming his very soul. How he loved her! He couldn’t imagine where he’d be if God hadn’t gifted him his beautiful Vaden.
“But you know what?” she asked in a whisper. “Soon enough the grandbabies will come rolling along, and some little girl will steal your heart all over again.”
Ransom did smile then. “I suppose so,” he sighed.
Vaden heard the low rumble of an amused chuckle deep in her husband’s chest. “And what’s so funny at this time of night, Ransom Lake?” she asked.
“Oh, I was just wonderin’ how much kissin’ Gentry had to do to finally worm whatever he did out of our little liar of a daughter.”
Vaden giggled. “From the way Autumn looks at Gentry and goes on and on about how adorable his dimples are…probably not much, in truth.”
“Well, maybe I oughta do some wormin’ out of my own,” Ransom mumbled.
Vaden laughed as, in one swift movement, Ransom had rolled her onto her back in their bed and now leaned over her, gazing into her eyes.
Oh, he was so handsome! Even more handsome than the day she’d first laid eyes on him so long ago. She reached up, running her fingers through his striking salt-and-pepper hair.
“Worm away, lover,” Vaden whispered. “I’ll try to make up something worth worming out of me.”
She sighed as Ransom’s arms encircled her, the weight of his body settling on hers. Oh, how she hoped Gentry James would make Autumn’s happiness the way Ransom had made hers!
Chapter Eleven
September matured into October, and Autumn’s nineteenth birthday found her mother presenting her with “the most beautiful dress of bittersweet orange the world had ever seen,” as Autumn exclaimed as she held the dress up to her figure. Vaden Lake had sewn the lovely dress from yards of fabric she’s purchased the very day Gentry James’s ill-fated cattle drive arrived in town. Vaden always made a new dress for her daughter’s birthday—something fresh and pretty to wear when the county fair began in just two weeks.
Ransom Lake had given Autumn a copy of the very same book of “scandalously romantic” poetry his only daughter had been forever sneaking out of her mother’s bedroom to peruse, wide-eyed and blushing, since last Christmas.
Uncle Dan and Aunt Myra presented Autumn with a masterfully crafted chest made of cedar, filled with two very lovely quilts. Uncle Dan had made the chest and Aunt Myra the quilts, and Autumn was moved to tears by all the loving gifts she’d received that day.
Of the wonderful gifts bestowed upon Autumn October 1—and they were the most marvelous gifts—there was one that Autumn lovingly favored. It wasn’t large or expensive by any means, but it was beautiful beyond measure, and she was profoundly moved by it.
When the moment came that all the gifts from her family had been opened, Gentry James grinned a dimpled grin and held what looked like a length of tree bark toward her.
“Happy birthday, punkin,” was all he said.
But when Autumn accepted the length of bark with a polite and very heartfelt, “Thank you, Gentry,” her eyes did indeed fill with tears. For as she turned the length of bark over, she found that there was still wood attached to it, and carved in the wood—perfectly carved—was the very scene she’d dreamt of so many times. There carved in the wood (which was no more than ten inches long and eight inches wide) were Clarence and Clementine waltzing, arms entwined beneath the harvest moon. It was an astounding piece of craftsmanship, for there was no paint on it whatsoever. It was only carved and sometimes shaded with what looked like ash.
Every
one was awed at the gift—awed at Gentry’s skill at carving, to which his response was simply, “There wasn’t a whole lot to do at the orphanage…other than carve pieces of wood out of the woodpile.”
As tears streamed down Autumn’s face, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, kissing his cheek, and whispering, “Thank you, Gentry! I love it more than anything I’ve ever received in all my life,” into his ear.
Thus, Autumn’s birthday came and went, and Ransom Lake and Gentry James began the arduous task of harvesting the remaining pumpkins in the field and hauling them to the train station to be loaded for transport to destinations north.
Autumn, who normally loved the pumpkin harvest, found she could do nothing but wish it would end. From long before sunup until long after sundown, Ransom and Gentry would work in the fields harvesting. This left little time for Autumn to spend in Gentry’s lone company—or for Gentry and Autumn to spark for a moment or two each day.
It was obvious to Ransom and Vaden that things had progressed quite quickly between their daughter and the once shot-up cowboy who had arrived when autumn was just catching her breath for seeing summer off on its way. And yet Gentry had not asked Ransom’s permission for anything beyond “courting” Autumn. Still, Ransom knew how Gentry felt—having no land, no house, nothing to his name. But Vaden did not. She was of the mind that love was the priority; everything else would fall in line once love was consummated.
Still, Autumn herself appeared happy in things the way they were. Yet both Ransom and Vaden knew how well their daughter could create an appearance of all being well. A few days after the harvest moon had risen, Gentry convinced Autumn to confide in her parents concerning Riley Wimber and his ill-treatment of her over the past months.
Naturally, Ransom had been of the same mind as Gentry, bellowing, “I’ll beat the tar out of that little rat! The apple don’t fall far from the tree…and I’ll give Nate Wimber what he’s had comin’ for over twenty years while I’m at it!”
However, Autumn and Vaden both had begged Ransom to calm himself and, when he was calm (truly calm), to simply have word with Nate Wimber about his son. Nothing was ever said about the black eye, bloody nose, and bruised ribs for which Nate Wimber had sought treatment from Doctor Sullivan the next day.
But after that, Ransom had rarely spoken of the Wimber family, and when Vaden once questioned him about whether he knew anything about Nate Wimber’s “unfortunate riding accident” (as it was being referred to in town), all Ransom would say was, “Well, that man never could handle a horse.”
Still, Autumn never walked to town alone. The gossips all said that Nate Wimber was sending his oldest boy, Riley, off to live with an uncle in Tennessee. Apparently Riley had developed a sudden interest in horses, and Nate’s uncle raised Tennessee Walkers. He was scheduled to leave on the train just after Thanksgiving. But neither Autumn nor Gentry, nor any of the Lakes or Valmonts, were convinced Riley would leave Autumn be. Until he was gone, Gentry accompanied Autumn to town and even to the pumpkin patch to visit Jethro (whom Ransom had chosen to go to seed, for he didn’t have the heart to pull his wife’s favorite pumpkin from the patch).
As the first two weeks of October waned, there was something else that had folks buzzing like fussy bees—the Specter! Nearly everyone in or near town had seen the Specter—even the disbelieving Ransom Lake! It seemed the Specter was restless, and he could be seen almost nightly, riding across the horizon, through a cornfield, or near the old covered bridge. Autumn had now seen the Specter on multiple occasions, including the night of the harvest moon.
That night—that wonderful night of heavenly moments spent in Gentry’s arms as the golden moonlight painted all the earth—that night, once she and Gentry had returned home and Autumn had prepared for bed, she again saw the Specter. He was riding just beyond the orchards, on the slope of the moonlit horizon.
Autumn had held her breath when she’d first seen him from her bedroom window—as she’d watched the shreds of bloodied sheets aloft in the breeze like a tattered banner outstretched from the Specter’s pale, sheet-swathed body. For long moments she’d watched. And then, all at once, just as he’d done before, he seemed to spur his horse, and horse and rider vanished into the golden moonlit vista beyond.
It wasn’t until Vaden Lake saw the Specter, however, that Ransom Lake began to grumble.
“Oh, heaven help us,” he’d mumbled at breakfast the morning after Vaden had seen the Specter. Autumn, of course, was giddy with amusement, for her mother was babbling like a brook, excitedly relaying her sighting of the famed Specter. Gentry ate his breakfast with dimples handsomely displayed as well, obviously amused by Vaden’s excitement over the matter.
Autumn’s father, however, knew Vaden best, and he knew she would not rest until she’d had a better glimpse of the local ghost.
“Has anyone checked the old cowboy’s grave, Ransom?” Vaden asked as Ransom chuckled and shook his head.
“I don’t know, darlin’,” he sighed. “But why don’t you just march out there this afternoon and see for yourself? I know you’re not gonna settle down until you do.”
“I know you’re mocking me, Ransom,” Vaden said, playfully smacking him on the top of his head with the wooden spoon in her hand. “But I think I will do just that.” She turned to Autumn then and asked, “Don’t you want to see the grave with me, honey?”
Autumn smiled and nodded.
Vaden smiled too. “I know you’re as itching as I am to see if there’s been any…disturbance out at the cowboy’s grave.” Vaden turned to Ransom again and added, “So you and Gentry go on about your business, and Autumn and I will investigate the matter.”
Autumn smiled when she saw Gentry and Ransom exchange amused glances.
“Though,” Vaden began, thoughtful, “if you get home and we’re not here and supper’s not on the table…you best come looking for us. All right?”
“Yes, dear,” Ransom sighed. “Whatever you say, dear.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear, Ransom Lake,” Vaden giggled, kissing Ransom firmly on one cheek. “Once this apple butter is cooked down, Autumn, we’ll hitch up our skirts and run out to the graveyard. It’s a good thing we’re doing it today. When the fair starts tomorrow, folks will most likely be out there in droves…if they’re not already.”
“Ooo, Mama,” Autumn began, “do you really think there’ll be any evidence of the Specter at the cowboy’s grave?”
“Do you mean like bones sticking out of the ground and such?” Vaden asked.
“Oh, for cryin’ in the bucket, woman!” Ransom grumbled. “You’re gonna give yourself nightmares for a month if you’re not careful.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Ransom,” Vaden scolded. “When’s the last time I had nightmares for a month?”
Ransom looked up to his wife from his seat at the table. “Last March when you read that spooky old book.”
“I did not have nightmares for a month,” Vaden defended herself.
“Mmm hmmm,” Ransom mumbled, winking at Autumn and Gentry. “Whatever you say, dear. Whatever you say.”
Autumn smiled as she felt Gentry’s hand clasp hers underneath the table. It was something he’d taken to doing—holding her hand, pushing at her foot with his, or even letting his hand rest on her knee when they were sitting down to a meal with her family—and Autumn adored it! Maybe they didn’t have too much time for sparking these days—not until the pumpkins were in and harvesting was over, anyway. But just his touch—his simple touch—gave Autumn all the reassurance in the world.
“You ready, Gentry?” Ransom asked with a sigh.
“Yes, sir,” Gentry answered, standing up from his chair.
“Well, you girls have fun on your little ghost-huntin’ adventure,” Ransom said. He kissed Vaden long and hard on the mouth before taking his hat from the nearby hat rack and heading out the kitchen door.
“Remember, Ransom,” Vaden called. “If we’re not here for supper…yo
u come after us, all right?”
“Nightmares for a month, darlin’,” he called in return. “You mark my words.”
“You ladies have fun now,” Gentry chuckled as he reached for his hat from the hat rack as well.
“Be careful,” Autumn offered.
“I will,” Gentry said, winking at her.
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Gentry James!” Vaden scolded, smacking Gentry on the seat of his pants with her wooden spoon. “We know you and Autumn spend half your free time sparking out at the old bridge…so go on and kiss her good-bye. Don’t pay me any mind at all.”
Autumn blushed, but Gentry grinned like a freshly carved jack-o’-lantern, only with dimples. “Are you givin’ me your permission to kiss your daughter in front of her mother and anybody else who might be watchin’?”
“That I am, you silly cowboy,” Vaden laughed.
“Well,” Gentry began, reaching out to pull Autumn from her chair and into his arms, holding her against him, “who am I to argue with your mama, punkin?”
All at once, Autumn nearly forgot her mother was still in the room—that her daddy had only just walked out the kitchen door—for Gentry’s kiss was consuming her then. Warm, moist, and powerfully driven, it didn’t matter that it only lasted a few moments. The effect of Gentry’s mouth to hers would leave her trembling and weak-kneed for long after he’d headed for the pumpkin field.
“Well done, Gentry!” Vaden exclaimed once Gentry had released Autumn and plopped his hat on his head. “I really do approve.” Lowering her voice and leaning toward him then, she added, “And that’s sayin’ something, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gentry chuckled as he winked to Autumn and left the kitchen as well.
“Mmmm mmmm!” Vaden mumbled once the kitchen door had closed behind Gentry. “Looks like he’s a good kisser, honey,” she said to Autumn. “I approve of him all the more for that.”
The Haunting of Autumn Lake Page 16