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Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure

The Haunting of Autumn Lake (11 page)

BOOK: The Haunting of Autumn Lake
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“Well,” Gentry mumbled. Autumn bit her lip—held her breath—praying he would accept her father’s offer and stay on through the winter. Gentry looked to Doctor Sullivan. “Doc…you really think I need some more time?”

Doctor Sullivan smiled and nodded. “I’m figurin’ if you’d been up to your healed self, them Wimber boys wouldn’t have been breathin’ by the time Ransom arrived. So, yes…I do think you need some more time before you go gallopin’ off somewheres else.”

Gentry looked to Autumn then. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just didn’t have all my strength about me. I can’t believe they kicked me around like a rag doll.”

“Boy! Are you blind?” Aunt Myra exclaimed then. “I seen the whole thing through the window of the general store across the way. You mighta killed Riley Wimber if you weren’t so shot up! Don’t you be belittlin’ what you done for my Autumn princess,” she said, putting an arm around Autumn’s shoulders. “And you get in that wagon with Ransom and Autumn, and you head out to their place so Vaden can fatten you up a bit. Ransom needs the help. Autumn and Vaden help Dan and me in the store so much these days that it leaves Ransom to do all by himself what he used to have four men do. So you gather up your things from Doc Sullivan’s and head on out with Ransom and Autumn.” Autumn smiled as she watched her Aunt Myra untie her apron and hand it to her Uncle Dan. “As for me, I’m on my way over to have me a little visit with Rachel Wimber. Vaughn’s probably rollin’ in the grave at what his grandsons did today!”

“Now, Myra,” Dan warned as his wife straightened her skirt and began marching toward the Wimber place, “you hold your tongue, woman! And I don’t wanna hear about no cat fightin’!”

Aunt Myra waved in a gesture that she would behave, and Uncle Dan chuckled. “Well, Rachel Wimber’s in for it now.”
“You comin’, son?” Ransom asked Gentry.
Gentry looked to Autumn. She could see his damaged pride—his uncertainty.

Smiling, she said, “Mama’s making apple crisp tonight, Mr. James,” she said, hoping to lure him. “And there’s plenty of cider for supper…and warm bread, fresh from the oven…sweet butter and plum preserves too.”

 

Gentry’s mouth began to water at the thought of such good food. He hadn’t had warm bread for a coon’s age. And plum preserves? He figured he’d never had them—and if he had, he didn’t know it. But even more tempting than the good food waiting at the Lake place was the chance to see Autumn Lake one last time before he rode on. She did something to him. She made him want to see a ghost riding out through a cornfield. She made him want to go hunting for acorns, to sit outside under the harvest moon and listen to the crickets chirping good-bye to summer. Most of all, she made him feel alive in a way he’d never felt alive before.

He wondered for a moment if she were real. He wondered if maybe he really had died when those rustlers had shot him up—and Autumn Lake was just a part of heaven somehow. Yet the renewed pain in his leg and shoulder reminded him that he wasn’t dead. And that meant the girl was real and living—warm and beautiful—and probably tasted just like all those delicious apple things her mother made.

 

“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 the 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.”

BOOK: The Haunting of Autumn Lake
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