by Rhavensfyre
***
Ransom bounced out of the Jeep as soon as they arrived back at the farm, taking charge of the groceries and running them onto the porch before running back out and helping Victoria with the rest of the bags.
“Um, what’s this?” Ransom held up a bag of cat food and kitty litter supplies. She had been so busy dealing with Buddy she hadn’t really paid much attention to what Victoria had been adding to the pile.
“They’re for Whitman,” Victoria said, relieving Ransom of the cat food and trying not to smile too smugly.
“Whitman? Since when do we have a Whitman?”
Ransom’s confusion was actually kind of cute. She stood there, still holding the kitty litter and refusing to bring it in the house. Never mind the fact that she had said “we”, which Victoria noticed immediately. Try not to make too much of that Freudian slip, she warned herself, but that didn’t mean her heart was paying much attention. It had skipped a beat or two when Ransom said it.
“Whitman is…” Victoria pointed just in time for Ransom to skip aside and miss the orange streak making a beeline for the open door. “Um, right there. He’s quite the gentleman and keeps me company when you’re not here.”
He hadn’t shown up at the front door with a name, but when she found Ransom’s copy of Leaves of Grass sitting on the coffee table, she thought it was the perfect name for the regal looking tabby. Walt just wasn’t going to do it, it sounded too much like someone’s mechanic uncle, she thought, casting a quick apology up to the poet.
“A cat. There’s a cat now,” Ransom muttered, stomping into the house.
Victoria sniffed and ran her palm over her lips to keep from laughing. She could still hear Ransom stomping about and muttering, but she refused to take the blame for adding a cat to the household. Ransom didn’t have a dog, so why not a cat? Every self-respecting lesbian had to be either a dog or a cat person, it was a prerequisite to joining the club…along with the imaginary toaster oven.
Whitman came running up to Victoria the minute she walked into the kitchen, rubbing across her ankles in a figure eight motion that was either meant to say “I love you” or “let me trip you so you can drop whatever food you’re carrying.”
“You’ll get fed, never fear,” she said, petting the insistent tabby on the head. She checked to see if Ransom was anywhere nearby. She wasn’t, but she lowered her voice anyway. “And if she doesn’t want you, you can come home with me.”
Victoria froze. Home. The concept was an interesting one. Where was home, exactly? Was it the place you slept every night, the place you hung your clothes? Where you made your meals? Or, was it something entirely different? She knew what she’d tell a client. Home was where you were happy. Home was family and being around people you loved. It wasn’t a place so much as a place in your heart. So where does that leave me?
“Stupid, stupid woman,” Victoria berated herself. She’d been here, what? A week? Strange thoughts to be having for anyone. Unless you’re a creepy stalker with no sense of boundaries, she thought, snorting at the comparison. Maybe if I was more like Ransom, I wouldn’t have this problem. She’s tough and fully capable of taking care of herself. I doubt a stalker would have the balls to mess with her.
“What was that?” Ransom asked. Victoria practically jumped out of her skin. Whitman hissed and ran for the exit, his claws clattering against the wood floor ineffectively until he got some traction and managed to skid out into the living room.
“Okay, now that was amusing.” Ransom chuckled at the cat’s antics. This time she managed to stay out of the path of the orange streak and save her shins. She dug through the last bag left on the kitchen table and found the plain white wrapped package Buddy had snuck in at the last minute. She brought it over to the counter and thumped it down. “Did you need something?”
“No. I was just talking to myself.” Victoria busied herself at the kitchen counter. “Did you need to go up and change? I’ll just get everything started in here and then head up myself. I’m still soaked.”
“No, I’m good. The heat from the grill will dry me off. Oh, you might want to put those burgers away. I think Buddy likes you, he gave you a present you might enjoy more,” Ransom said, patting the plain white paper packet.
“Really?” Victoria dropped what she was doing to unwrap Buddy’s care package. She found two perfectly cut Delmonico steaks within the white butcher paper. “Ooh, these are going to be lovely. That certainly changes my plans. This is less barbecue now and more outdoor chic…I wish we had something more elegant to go with it than soda or juice.”
“Mm. I guess. Come with me.” Ransom disappeared into the mudroom, literally. As in, Victoria was right behind her and she just disappeared.
“Uh, Ransom?” Victoria called out, checking the back door. It was still locked. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“I’m right here.”
For the second time in less than a dozen minutes Victoria jumped out of her skin. She whipped around to find Ransom standing right behind her, a cheesy grin plastered across her face. “Dammit, Ransom, you scared the snot out of me.”
“Sorry.” Ransom’s face was anything but contrite. She nodded towards the wall and pulled Victoria closer. “Here, you should know where this is.”
She touched a part of the wall and it made a slight snick noise, then swung in to reveal a small stairwell leading into an even smaller basement. A bit of mental geometry told Victoria that this room wasn’t a part of the main basement where Ransom kept her workout equipment.
“A hidden room?” Victoria let Ransom lead the way, one wary eye on the stairs and the other one checking the low ceiling for spiders.
“Yeah. Neat, huh?” Ransom flipped on the light to reveal a roomier space than Victoria expected. “This house is old, turn of the century. I’m sure this started off as a root cellar but then prohibition came, and someone in the Johnson family wasn’t willing to give up their liquor. I hear there was a lot of moonshine running going on back then, but if you ask Samuel about it, he’ll get all testy and huff at you.”
“I might just do that sometime,” Victoria drawled. Samuel, you sneaky bastard, you. So much about you I don’t know.
Row after row of dusty shelves attested to Ransom’s history, until she noticed a more familiar set of shelves, ones designed to hold wine bottles at the perfect angle for years while ensuring the cork stayed nice and wet. Those were new. She made a bee line for the non-dusty shelf and pulled out the first bottle.
“Nice,” Victoria whistled, then carefully put away the bottle. “Are these…?”
“Samuels? Yes. He has quite a collection. The drinkable stuff is over there. As in, stuff he won’t mind losing to a guest.” Ransom winked. “Why don’t you find us a nice bottle of wine; you probably know what goes better with steak than I do?”
Victoria gave Ransom a sharp look.
“You’re going to drink?” she asked, then backtracked when she realized how that sounded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything…”
“No, that’s quite alright. I don’t drink, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a glass of wine with dinner.” Ransom ran her hand along the smooth oak cabinet. Victoria would laugh at her if she knew what she thought of this place after the first time she saw it. This wasn’t just a hidden cellar; it was a perfect safe room, complete with internal bolts and a few extras she had added when she found the place. And now Victoria knows where it is, too.
“Listen, I’ve got to get the coals started if we’re going to eat tonight. You take your time and find something you like. I’ll let Samuel know so he doesn’t freak out when he finds one of the bays empty. Just come up when you’re done.”
Victoria stood in the middle of the room and turned in a small circle. The place was almost too small, it made her feel claustrophobic, and she had to fight the sensation that the walls were shrinking around her. Worse yet, she couldn’t decide if Ransom was being exceptionally nice today or if this trip to the wine cellar
was a test of some sorts. Either way, she could still enjoy a nice bottle of wine and prove to Ransom that she could drink responsibly.
Victoria pulled out a cabernet and wiped the label clean. It was going to be a beautiful evening, and the prospect of a good meal with an intelligent and handsome hostess was too perfect to ignore.
Victoria mounted the first stair before turning and clicking the light off. The cellar plunged into darkness, leaving only a distorted rectangle of light from above to guide her way. Hugging the bottle to her side like a football, she took each stair one at a time, carefully avoiding the cobwebs.
Somewhere there was a clock ticking, marking off the time she had left to spend with Ransom. She wasn’t going to waste one minute of it.
***
Today I tried to get Samuel to talk about Victoria, but he was being awful closed mouthed. I will just have to find another way.
Chapter Fifteen
As Ransom busied herself with the grill, the unexpected advice from Buddy kept popping up, reminding her that she had the right to live and enjoy her life. While she knew this intellectually, irrational fear kept creeping back in. Like some cobwebbed old boogeyman from her childhood, the cause of those fears refused to leave their cozy home, having taken up refuge in the darkest corners of her mind for so long they practically owned the place.
Yet here she was cooking dinner for her guest, substituting one appetite, one hunger, with another. She doubted that Victoria would appreciate the distinction, but that was all Ransom had to give. Her nightmares were ramping up, occurring almost every night. Even the lumpy couch wasn’t able to fend them off, and if she drank any more caffeine to stay awake, Victoria would wake up one morning to find a zombie bouncing around the living room.
Was it guilt that made her promise this one pleasant evening? Victoria needed this, she had made it very clear that everything was starting to get to her, and rather than respond logically Ransom had given in and said yes. That wasn’t like her. She was letting her emotions in on the decision-making process, no matter how hard she tried to tell herself that she was just trying to be nice. She didn’t do nice. She did efficient.
“Is everything okay?” Victoria showed up at her elbow with a glass in each hand and a pleasant smile for Ransom. “You looked thirsty. I brought you some iced tea.”
“Thank you.” Ransom forced herself to move. She had been standing in one place for a very long time, and she could feel the strain across her shoulders and back where the shrapnel had torn through the muscles there. No amount of physical therapy ever got rid of that ache, or the stiffness she woke up with every morning and the rain and humidity hadn’t helped today.
“Everything’s fine. Just thinking about a few things. Boring things that don’t matter right this minute.” Ransom backtracked quickly before Victoria got it into her mind to start asking questions. She grabbed the long fork and poked at the meat sizzling on the grill. “The steaks are ready if you are.”
***
They ended up eating beneath the deep, covered porch. Neither woman seemed interested in retiring indoors, preferring to stay outside and silently enjoying each other’s company.
When darkness fell, Victoria was sure that Ransom would suggest going back inside. Instead, she brought out a small radio and moved to the porch swing overlooking the sloping grounds along the side of the house. Victoria poured another glass of wine, then took a chance and poured a second, smaller one before joining Ransom.
“You don’t have to take it, I just didn’t want to be rude and drink alone.”
Perhaps it was the shy way Victoria asked, or maybe it was Buddy’s reminder to try and live a little more, but Ransom broke from her longstanding rule and took the glass. Besides, a single glass of wine with a beautiful woman is a far cry from drinking a bottle of Jack all alone with your pain.
“Thank you,” Ransom said, noting how Victoria let out her breath before sitting down, as if she was relieved nothing else came of her offer.
“This place is amazing. Sitting here like this, I can imagine myself transported back in time. It’s so peaceful.” The heady scent of something flowery made the air taste sweet and there was constant noise in the background, as if the entire bug world was singing about the earlier rain, joining the music playing on the radio.
“It is.” Ransom found herself more content and mellow than she had felt in a long time. She had accepted the glass Victoria offered her, expecting to nurse the dark red liquid throughout the night. That was until she had tasted it. It would be a shame to only offer lip service to such an exquisite vintage. Samuel had expensive tastes in wine and Victoria had a good eye. She wondered how upset he was going to be when he found out that Victoria had plucked one of the choicest jewels out of his wine cellar.
Ransom looked up from her silent contemplation of her wine to catch Victoria openly appraising her.
“Yes?”
“Could I have this dance?” Victoria asked.
“Why?”
“I have the need to dance with an attractive woman.” Victoria spoke lightly despite her heart fluttering dangerously fast. Would Ransom take her up on her offer?
Ransom was instantly cautious; still, she couldn’t find one good reason to argue against Victoria’s request. How far could a single dance on the porch go? It was a beautiful night, and she had a beautiful woman sitting next to her, looking at her expectantly. It would be rude to deny her something as simple as a dance.
Ransom stood and held out her hand, which Victoria accepted gracefully.
A slow song was playing on the radio and somewhere between her finding the courage to ask for a dance and Ransom agreeing, the moonless night had come alive with stars. The Milky Way was visible as a band of light traveling across the heavens in a display of celestial wonder she had never seen before.
It was a rare night in the city where you could see more than a smattering of stars, and Victoria had lived in cities most of her life. The covered porch had become a small oasis of soft light floating on a river of darkness. The illusion that they were alone in the cosmos made it seem like anything was possible. From here, Victoria felt like she could create her own universe, if only Ransom would join her and show her the way. That feeling was so overwhelming, so overpowering, that she began to tremble against the unseen force lashing out at her psyche.
“You’re cold, we should go inside,” Ransom suggested, feeling Victoria shiver in her embrace.
“I don’t want to,” Victoria admitted, she was far from cold but she couldn’t let Ransom know that. The night had been too perfect, more than she could have asked for and definitely more than she had expected.
“But you’re shaking.”
“I’ll be alright for a little while longer.” Victoria stilled in Ransom’s arms. “Before we go back inside, can I ask for one more thing?”
“What?”
“A kiss. Just one single kiss to complete this perfect night?”
Ransom searched Victoria’s face for any sign of artifice and found none. She honestly believed what she said. Ransom didn’t know what to say, she was afraid of what would happen if their lips touched. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“If you kiss me, I promise you, I won’t ask for anything more tonight.” Victoria was not one to beg, ever...but the overwhelming need to connect with Ransom tonight had a tight hold on her.
“Just a kiss and nothing more?” Ransom’s head was spinning, far more than she could blame on a few sips of wine, and certainly not when she was being offered something much more intoxicating. Somehow, she knew that this wouldn’t be just any kiss, that if she chose to close that short distance between them something would irreversibly change in her life. That short distance represented so much more than Victoria could possibly realize. That kiss sealed a breach between one moment in time and another, but what about all those moments in between, would they come flooding through as well?
“Just a kiss,” Victoria breathed as she tilte
d her face up towards Ransom, full pink lips already parted and waiting.
“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do.” Ransom felt warm hands slide eagerly through her hair to press firmly against the base of her skull, drawing her down to meet eager lips.
“Then tell me.”
“I don’t think I can,” Ransom protested, twisting away from Victoria and moving as far away as the deck rail would allow. She couldn’t explain how she was feeling, she barely understood it herself.
“Don’t shut me out, Ransom.” Victoria didn’t feel cold anymore, her blood ran hot with emotion.
“Victoria, please…you don’t want this, you don’t want me, not the way I am now,” Ransom pleaded with Victoria to stop whatever this was that was happening between them.
“Don’t.” Victoria stopped Ransom with one word. “I said, don’t…don’t speak, don’t make apologies, and certainly don’t assume anything about me that I don’t tell you myself.”
Ransom didn’t stop. “You don’t understand. I can’t bring back the past, no matter how much you want me to. I know you think there’s still something between us, but…”
She knew they were bald lies, but they couldn’t stop her from remembering, from feeling the memories she spent so much time trying to forget. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, the blood rushing through her temples a steady drum beat in her head. It was primal, primitive in its rhythm and it made her painfully aware of how close Victoria was standing to her. She closed her eyes and swayed a bit at the intoxicating sensation, all she had to do was bend her head down the least little bit and their lips would meet.
Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into deep-brown eyes that held her, captivated her and demanded more from her. She had been standing like stone before Victoria, but that look, that look challenged her to take action. A low moan reverberated in her chest, becoming almost a growl as Victoria looked up at her and smiled. It was a knowing smile that Ransom recognized as one of victory.