The Visions of Ransom Lake (18 page)

Yvonne was right. Vaden could not go to sleep for long hours, for the vision of Ransom Lake smothered in pumpkin and smiling down at her kept itself vivid in her mind until the wee hours of the morning.

CHAPTER SEVEN

As Yvonne and Vaden sat in the backseat of the buggy on the way to the harvest and Halloween social in town, Vaden found it difficult not to fly from the conveyance and run headlong toward their destination.

“
Oh! Why is he going so slow, Vonnie?” she whispered with irritation to her sister. “Doesn’t he know this mare can go twice this fast and not be winded?”

Yvonne smiled and shook her head. “I’m certain everyone will still be there when we arrive, Vay. It’s still a quarter of an hour before the party begins.”

“
But we should be there early…to…to help with things,” Vaden stammered, though she knew she could not fool Yvonne. Yvonne knew full well whyVaden was so anxious to arrive at the social.

“
You’re going to break Jerome’s heart tonight if you ignore him completely, Vay,” Yvonne whispered.

“
I won’t ignore himcompletely,” Vaden assured her sister. However, the mention of Jerome dampened her spirits enough that she no longer felt the need to complain about Uncle Dan’s relaxed attitude toward arriving at the social.

When at long last the Valmonts did arrive at the large oak just west of town, Vaden’s heart soared for a moment before sinking as she noticed that Ransom Lake had indeed decided to attend. There he stood, not far from the large oak’s trunk, completely surrounded by the ladies of the town, young and old. To make matters worse, Jerome was upon her instantly, offering a gallant hand to help her down from the buggy.

“
Ya look more divine than the stars in heaven tonight, Miss Vaden,” he flattered.

She forced a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Clayton. But you flatter far too dramatically.”

Jerome smiled and winked at her, offering her his arm. As Vaden walked with him toward the platform that had been raised for the purpose of dancing, she looked to where Ransom Lake stood surrounded by female admirers. His eyes held hers for a moment, and he nodded a greeting. Vaden nodded in return, praying inwardly for him to simply break free of his admirers and approach her.
Please
, she pled with him inwardly.
Please come to
me
, Ransom Lake
. But then Belva Tibbits tugged on his sleeve, and he looked to her and away from Vaden.

“
Well,” Jerome sighed and Vaden looked up to him, feeling guilty, for she was certain he had caught her staring at Ransom Lake. “Ol’ Ransom Lake has certainly taken the town by storm since he rid himself of his whiskers, hasn’t he?”

Vaden frowned, slightly disturbed at the barely discernible twinge of resentment in Jerome’s voice. She looked at him, but his face showed no sign of what she had felt in his voice.

“
I know you’re just as fascinated by him as the next girl, Miss Vaden. But don’t worry.” He covered her hand with his own and patted it warmly. “I’m patient. I know it’s just the mystery of it all that catches your attention. I can wait until it’s passed.”

Vaden shook her head, unable to be certain she had understood him correctly. “I am not infatuated with Ransom Lake, Mr. Clayton.” The statement was true enough, for Vaden knew her love for Ransom Lake went far and away beyond mere infatuation. “And I think you should understand that—”

“
Sshhh,” Jerome whispered, putting an index finger to his lips. “I know. I know. You’re going to say you’re not like the other girls in town. That he doesn’t cause ya to act as they do. I know. I know you’re different. That’s why I’ve chosen you. And, Vaden…I do think it’s time ya started callin’ me by my first given name. Don’t you?”

Something about the conversation was making her very uncomfortable. Jerome’s implications where she and he were concerned were far too serious. Furthermore, she hadn’t liked his using her first name and was determined he understand that she would not use his. “But, Mr. Clayton, I think a formal address between us is more—”

“
Let’s dance,” he interrupted, helping her to step up to the platform. He smiled benignly, and Vaden felt relieved. She had been reading too much into the conversation. She obviously had a tendency to do this often, for even though she and Ransom Lake had shared at least two intimate conversations or moments, he seemed almost indifferent to her as he assisted Belva Tibbits onto the platform and led her in a dance very near to where she danced with Jerome.

As the night wore on, Vaden was hurt and dismayed when the situation did not change. Not once did Ransom Lake ask her for a dance, though he seemed to dance with nearly every other female on the premises—several of whom spitefully mentioned the fact of it to Vaden. To make matters worse, Jerome was entirely too attentive to her, almost possessive, and she began to resent him for it. She was all too relieved each time one of the other young men would ask for a dance. It became a chore, the social—a chore in Vaden’s eyes instead of a party. A grand and glorious disappointment.

And then, late in the event, nearly at its intended ending time, Vaden broke free of Jerome’s attentions long enough to stand before the enormous bonfire alone for a moment. She looked up into the dark night sky watching the sparking bits of wood that would break free and fly into the blackness above, lighting it for only a moment. The burning wood smelled comforting and warm, and Vaden hugged herself, sighing wistfully.

“‘
And so burns the cedar, warm…with spice. Lending fragrance to the air and
…’” she began to recite to herself. She happened to glance to one side and caught sight of Ransom Lake standing nearby, Belva Tibbits attached to his arm. He was looking directly at Vaden, a mischievous glint to his mesmerizing gray eyes. As Belva babbled on about something Vaden could not discern above the crackling of the fire, Ransom Lake continued to stare at her. She looked away for a moment, unnerved by his intense scrutiny of her, only to look back to find him still staring at her. A sly grin slightly curved the corners of his mouth as he held out a hand toward her, motioned with his fingers for her to move toward him, and then proceeded to place his hand at his stomach, running it up and over his chest in exactly the manner he had directed her hand to do only a week earlier.

Vaden’s mouth dropped open in an indignant gasp. Ransom Lake’s smile broadened at her reaction. At that moment, Belva tugged on his shirtsleeve, once again gaining his attention. Vaden wondered why it was he even owned a nice shirt with sleeves to wear to such a function, for it had twice taken his attention from her. Vaden looked away from Ransom Lake.Through the flames of the fire,she could see Jerome talking with Nathaniel, Toby, Frank Hodges, and Randy Lange. Though Vaden had been to several gatherings at which Nathaniel and Toby were in attendance and was familiar with them, she was not very familiar with Frank and Randy, though she knew they were about Jerome’s age and two of his friends. Jerome paused in his conversation, looking about.Vaden could only surmise that he searched the darkness for her.

“
I’m going home, Vonnie,” Vaden informed her sister after pulling Yvonne aside from the table overflowing with good things to eat.

“
What?” Yvonne asked, utterly perplexed. “You can’tgo home now, and why would you want to anyway?”

“
I’m going, Vonnie. Just tell Uncle Dan and Aunt Myra for me, will you?”

Yvonne frowned, for it was entirely unlike her sister to want to leave any kind of social gathering. And to want to leave one at which Ransom Lake was in attendance was completely unthinkable.

“
I’ll come with you then, Vay. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“
Yes. I’m fine. And you stay here. I’m just…just tired. I want to go. Stay here, Vonnie. It would upset me too much if you were to give up your fun for me.” Vaden hugged her sister and turned toward home.

It was a beautiful night for walking. The sky was clear, the air crisp, and the stars bright overhead. She smiled as she passed Vaughn Wimber’s house, which had a grinning, impressively carved jack o’-lantern donning every window. What a harvest he had! She admired him for working so hard at growing pumpkins.

The air was thickly scented with the mingling aromas of applewood and cedar burning to make houses warm and cozy. The chilldelightfully nipped at her cheeks and nose, and Vaden managed a somewhat halfhearted smile for the wonder of October.

Then her thoughts turned to less pleasant venues as she thought again of Ransom Lake’s nearly ignoring her at the social, of his instant and irritating popularity there,of Jerome Clayton and his possessive attentions toward her. Her evening had been a dismal experience, and in one way or the other, each of the men in her thoughts had contributed to it.

So deep in thought was Vaden Valmont as she walked along the deserted street on Halloween night that it wasn’t until the smothering wool blanket was covering her head, something else binding her arms to her sides, and someone lifting her into a wagon that she even realized there had been anyone else near to her. She tried to scream out, but something was tied around the blanket at her mouth, and she could only struggle. She heard laughter—the laughter of Halloween pranksters. But not of children intent on tipping over outhouses.This cruel laughter was the laughter of young men. And her fear rose to immensity as she felt the wagon lurch forward.

“
We need to bury someone, Miss Vaden Valmont,” a man’s voice, altered intentionally, whispered in her ear. “We got to appease the spirits, ya see. Offer up someone. Ya ever been buried before?” it asked. “Well, sweet thing…there’s a first time foreverything they say, now don’t they?” Again there was the laughter of evil mischief, and Vaden struggled with all of her might.



“
Where’s that little sister of yours, Miss Valmont?”

Yvonne turned to see none other than Ransom Lake standing before her inquiring about Vaden. She thought of how utterly thrilled Vaden would be to know the man had asked after her.

“
She’s gone home, Mr. Lake. She said she was tired,” Yvonne answered, smiling at him. Her smile faded, however, when his face immediately puckered into a frown.

“
On Halloween night? Doesn’t she realize the tricksters are out in full force about this time?” he asked.

“
Tricksters?”

“
There isn’t a county in this good country where the boys and young men of the town don’t pull pranks all night long on Halloween, miss. I’m not sure it’s all that safe that she’s gone home alone.”

“
She’ll be fine, Mr. Lake,” Yvonne assured him, though now she too was ill at ease. “It’s Vaden, after all.”

Ransom Lake nodded, still seemingly unconvinced. Closing his eyes for a moment, he seemed less so. “Well, guess I’ll run on home now. Ya tell your sister I missed her this evenin’, Miss Valmont. Shoot, I didn’t get conked on the head, sat down on, shaved, or covered in squash. I feel pretty unfulfilled.”

Yvonne giggled even though Ransom Lake’s frown deepened as he gave her a nod of departure.

On his ride home, Ransom Lake closed his eyes and shook his head several times at the pain inside it. The feeling was there—the sensation of despair, of ominous evil lurking somewhere. He felt the fear in his heart. At least he thought he did, but there was no picture in his mind,nothing to guide him. For the first time in his life, Ransom Lake found himself intentionally searching for the visions in his mind, but nothing came to him—only the frustration of the uncertainty. He shook his head and tried to ignore the feeling in his chest. He tried to convince himself all the way back to his place that all was well.

When he arrived home, Ransom removed his shirt, tossing it onto a nearby chair. He went to the kitchen and got himself a glass of refreshing water. Suddenly he dropped the glass, and it shattered as it hit the floor. The mad pounding of his heart increased as the all too familiar feeling of deep anxiety possessed him. Rushing to the door, he pulled on his boots, pausing for a moment to close his eyes and search for a vision. But still none came—no scenic premonition to help him pinpoint the fear he felt, someone else’s fear. Nothing to help him ease his panic. And he remembered again the thing he could never forget—the first time he’d felt the horrid panic rise within him, beckoning his soul in a direction it must go. He’d sworn that never again would he brush it off as he’d done the first time. Though he’d sensed something earlier on his way home, there had been nothing to confirm it, only the beginnings of the sense of panic. But now he felt it wholly!

Rushing out into the cool late of the night, he took only the time needed to bridle his horse. The feeling of panic, of impending doom, caused his hands to tremble violently as he mounted the animal’s bare back and dug his heels into the horse’s flesh to signal a gallop. He was being pushed out into the night, and he knew where he was being sent. It frightened him, forsince she’d arrived in town, his visions had begun tocenter on only her. He had no doubt it was her need prompting his soul now.



“
Why…Ransom,” Myra stammered as she opened the door to find Ransom Lake standing before her only half dressed. He nodded, not waiting for an invitation to enter, and walked into the house past Myra and directly to where Yvonne sat on the sofa in front of the fire.

“
She’s not home,” he stated rather than inquired.