The Visions of Ransom Lake (38 page)

Then she came to the tree where she had been led, by whatever presence, to Ransom Lake. She realized somehow as she stared at the tree, the ropes that had bound Ransom still lying on the ground around its base, that she would rather endure a life of sadness, regret, sorrow, and pain. She would rather be miserable for the rest her life than never to have experienced the man. Reaching down, she picked up a length of the rope, studying the now brown stains made by the dried blood from Ransom’s injuries. It was true. However horrible the pain of loss, the old cliché rang true to Vaden at that moment: it was far better to have loved the man and not been able to possess him than never to have known and loved him at all.

“
Fancy meetin’ you here.”

The sound of Jerome’s voice angered Vaden. Turning to face him, drained of defense and having only the strength to hate, she said, “Leave me alone. I have no feelings for you other than distaste at seeing your face. Leave me in the knowledge you were right. I am in love with Ransom Lake, and he returns nothing of it to me. You were right. But you’re wrong if you still think I will turn to you to give me what he won’t. I despise you, Jerome Clayton. So stop wasting your time, and leave me alone.”

So drained of strength and emotion was Vaden that even the fiery red glint that jumped to Jerome’s eyes did not intimidate her.

“
I did so much for ya, Vaden. I tried so hard to prove that I was worthy of ya.”

“
You were very attentive and sweet, Mr. Clayton. Of course, we both know it was a facade.” She began to walk away from him, but his next words stopped her.

“
I had it all planned out so perfectly. And Ransom Lake had to mess it up for me. That day he was shot in the store, I had that all worked out so cleverly. And Halloween night. It would’ve been perfect.”

“
What? What are you talking about?” Vaden asked.

“
It wasn’t those kids playin’ with a gun in the street, Vaden. Don’t ya know that?
I
shot Ransom Lake. I meant to shoot near you to frighten ya, then rush to your side to be your comforter, your protector. But my aim must have been off because indeed my bullet would have hit yaif Ransom Lake hadn’t stepped in front of ya. I was grateful to see he’d taken the bullet. I realized it was for the best because now ya would see how weak he was…how such a small injury could shake him. I knew you’d turn from him and back to me.

“
And Halloween would’ve confirmed my worthiness to ya. I worked it out with Nathaniel and Toby and the others. I was gonna ride in there, your hero on a magnificent stallion. I was gonna save ya from that horrid trick. I had to pay those boys to do that to you…and even then they weren’t sure. But when I told them it would surely win ya over for me, they were willin’ enough. Then I followed the wagon home that night. It wasn’t Nathaniel who told me what went on between you and Ransom Lake while he was drivin’ the team home. I followed ya. I saw what he did to you. How ya let him do it.

“
Of course, those friends of mine…they wouldn’t help me anymore. They told me I was wrong. Nathaniel even said I was crazy to go after Ransom Lake and his brother. I could see how weak they were, so…I simply went up north and hired some real men to help me out. Ransom Lake would’ve died out here too if ya hadn’t showed up to save his worthless hide.”

Vaden could only stare at him with a brief inability to believe what he was telling her. “You shot Ransom when he was in the mercantile that day? You were the cause of that horrid event on Halloween? You intentionally had me drug out there and nailed into that box?” Vaden began shaking her head, unable to understand what would drive a man to do such things. Surely she could not be the cause of all Jerome’s diabolical actions.

“
It would’ve worked out wonderfully, Vaden. But that Ransom Lake…he’s like a fly in the ointment at every turn.”

Vaden could only stare at Jerome as her mind fought to understand the situation. Jerome hunkered down, picking up one of the lengths of rope lying at the tree’s trunk.

“
How did ya get him loose from here anyhow?” he mumbled.

Vaden’s heart began to increase in its beating, and she drew in a worried breath as she saw Jerome pick up something from the ground.

“
Well, look at that,” he muttered as he held Ransom’s knife, frowning as he studied it intently. “Hmmm. Did he have this on him?”

Vaden did not answer but took a tentative step backward. It was only then she realized the danger she was in. This man was mad! Capable of unimaginable things.

“
I stripped him of his shirt, checked his pockets.” Jerome frowned as he studied the knife. “He had it in his boot. Is that it, Vaden? And how would you know to look in his boot for a knife?”

“
You sit there and puzzle on it for awhile,” Vaden said calmly, taking another step back from him and indicating with one hand he should stay. “You’ll figure it out, I’m certain. As smart as you are, it won’t take you long.”

Before she could turn and run, Jerome jumped to his feet and took hold of her wrist tightly. Vaden’s instinct told her that to struggle would only serve to further agitate him, so she stood before him trying to appear calm.

“
Where’re ya goin’?” he asked.

“
I do need to be getting back. Aunt Myra will be furious if I don’t finish up my chores before—”

“
You don’t see yourself as men see ya, Vaden,” he stated suddenly. “I know ya think everyone in this town is thinkin’ your sister is the prettiest thing around—the most finished and refined of young ladies. I know that’s what ya think. But ya don’t understand men. There’s something about you, something that makes a man start burnin’ inside. Makes him want you above anything else.”

Forcibly he pulled on her arm, causing her body to bump against his. Then he released her wrist and put his arms about her, holding her firmly against him. Immediately, Vaden began to struggle, to lose control of her sensible plan to not flee from him desperately.

“
Now, come on, Vaden. Do ya think it was easy for me to stand by and watch Ransom Lake have his liberties with ya? That night I followed Nathaniel’s wagon home…watching the two of you and the way you…believe me, I wanted to kill him long ago. To slit his throat open and watch him die, knowin’ when he did you’d be in my arms.”

Vaden ceased her struggling when she heard a click as Jerome revealed the blade of Ransom’s knife and held it to her neck near the jugular vein. The blade was cold as death. Vaden could only close her eyes and swallow the lump in her throat, waiting.

“
How do ya think Ransom Lake would feel knowin’ it was his own knife that bled you dry? Hmm?”

Vaden tried to breathe evenly and keep her wits about her. She would be patient, waiting until Jerome’s defenses dropped somehow. Then she would run. Run for her life!

“
This coat of yours,” he mumbled. Vaden could feel the heat of his breath on her face, and she winced at the sensation. “It’s far too bulky. Let’s just take it off, shall we?”

“
It’s cold out,” Vaden stated calmly, looking him directly in the eyes. “You…you wouldn’t want me to catch my death out here, would you?”

Jerome raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “Take it off. Or you will definitely catch your death.”

Vaden paused, for the blade of the knife was firm against her flesh. Sighing with irritation, Jerome, using his free hand, removed her mittens, scarf, and coat, letting them drop to the snow covered ground at her feet. She was instantly cold. The breeze among the elms was icy, and frost had begun to fall from the sky.

“
My, my,” Jerome sighed as he placed a gloved finger in his mouth, tugging at it with his teeth until his glove was removed. Then his fingers began to toy with the lace at Vaden’s collar. “What a lovely shirtwaist, Vaden. Did ya sew it yourself with your dainty little fingers?”

Vaden reached up, shoving his hand from her neck, but she stilled herself again as the blade of the knife bit slightly at her flesh.

“
Hold still!” Jerome shouted. Then his voice was low and soft again as he whispered, “Ya know, not that I’m criticizing the seamstress who made this shirtwaist for ya—I’m sure she was talented with a needle, whoever she was. But…it seems to me this seam here…this one at your shoulder here…” Vaden felt the pressure from the knife at her neck disappear as Jerome moved it to her shoulder. “It…well, it just seems to me that there’s a flaw in the stitchin’.” Vaden gasped, and her body began to tremble as in one swift move Jerome inserted the knife into the fabric of her shirtwaist at the shoulder, ripping the seam from her shoulder to the base of her collar. “This side looks a bit…well, let’s just…” he mumbled as he repeated the process on the other side of her body. “Hhmmm,” he mused, wrinkling his brow and studying Vaden’s shoulders a moment. “Well…must be the collar that’s wrong.”

Vaden held her breath as Jerome slipped the knife beneath her collar at her throat. The blade was facing away from her flesh, but one false move and it would be buried at the hollow of her throat. She felt her stomach wrench as Jerome used his free hand to tug at the torn fabric at her right shoulder. He then bent and placed a long, lingering, sickeningly moist kiss on her exposed flesh.

“
Yes,” he mumbled, “I do believe it’s the collar.”

With that, he pulled the knife forward, severing the fabric at Vaden’s throat. Instinctively, Vaden’s hand went to her throat to hold in place the fabric of her shirtwaist, for now the yoke of her shirtwaist threatened to slip down slightly, exposing her shoulders and clavicle. She felt the chilled bite of cold at her upper back, for the torn fabric of her garment gave her little protection, exposing her skin to the elements. Jerome grinned mischievously. Producing a match from his pocket, he struck it on the bottom of his boot. It fell to her coat, which immediately caught fire. Pulling her forward, his knife once more at her throat, he moved her away from the burning clothing as he chuckled.

“
Now then,” he whispered, putting his lips against her ear, “what is there to protect you, Vaden? What else is there to warm your body?” He glanced about him as if searching for something. Then, looking back to her, he raised his eyebrows and added, “I guess that leaves me.”

The realization had been building, the knowledge trying to make itself known to Vaden all along. At that moment she knew, her mind accepted, what horror may be in store for her.

“
Jerome,” she began, addressing him by his given name in hopes it would serve to calm him, “please stop this. I—”

The words and her breath were knocked from her lungs as he turned her, slamming her back hard against the trunk of the elm.

“
Didn’t your mother teach ya that ya don’t say anything unless ya can say somethin’ nice?” he growled.

His hand went around her throat then, pushing her head painfully against the rough bark of the tree. From the corner of her eye, Vaden could see he still held the knife in his other hand, too close to her bosom to make a struggle safe. But at the repulsive feel of his mouth kissing her shoulders, the moist, abrasive sensation of his tongue grazing her flesh now and again, the danger of the knife he held seemed trivial. Vaden began to push against his chest, trying to maneuver her right foot so she could kick at him. His hand squeezed her throat all the more violently, and he paused in his tasting of her skin long enough to cover each one of her feet with his own, standing on them and rendering her helpless. She felt as if life were being strangled from her. She ignored the horrid feel of his kiss on her cheeks and forehead, and her fingers clawed helplessly at the hand at her throat.

“
I can’t breathe!” she choked out. She thought,
He’s killed me.

She could not draw air into her body. His hand about her throat was suffocating her. She felt her arms and legs begin to tingle with an odd numbing sensation, and the strength left her hands as she felt her arms drop to her sides. She winced at the pain of not being able to breathe. As she felt her dying body slip to the snow-covered ground, a heavenly vision of Ransom Lake appeared for one last brief moment in her fading consciousness.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

All was dark. There was no light and no sound. Then suddenly she felt the warmth of life-giving air fill her bosom. Vaden began to feel cold, to sense something tickling her face, to again feel the breath of life being forced into her lungs. Gasping painfully, Vaden drew her own breath and opened her eyes for a brief moment to see Ransom’s perfect face near to her own, frowning with an expression of grief and deep concern.

“
Take in the air, Vaden,” his voice echoed in her mind. Then she saw Ransom turn and look over his shoulder—saw Jerome struggling to his feet just behind him, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, his face twisted with fury. As he lunged toward them, Ransom sprang to his feet and shouted, “You’re a dead man for this!”

There was an excruciating pain in Vaden’s throat, and she closed her eyes again, unable to focus properly. She could hear the two men scuffling. She heard one of them fall to the ground, groaning in anguish. Then she knew her body was being lifted, and parts of her were warm again. She could hear the crunching of snow beneath feet bearing a heavy burden. She could hear the panting of a human being whose body was being pushed too hard considering it was still healing from its own trauma. Opening her eyes only a narrow slit, she saw Ransom’s chin and jaw from where her head rested on his shoulder. Still, she was too weakened and disoriented to respond to him.