“They would’ve tracked you. Whoever it was would’ve tracked the wagon train,” Vaden told him firmly, breaking her unusually long silence. “And it would’ve been unnecessary—wasteful and unbearable—for you to have been killed too. That would’ve left your brother, Denver, all alone in the world.”
Ransom Lake looked back to the fire. He winced in pain. “He is all alone in the world. He…he doesn’t know I wasn’t killed.”
“What?” Vaden exclaimed in horror. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You mean you never told him you…”
He shook his head. “No. I’m a coward, and I call myself one, ’cause I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t face him, tell him the family was gone, wiped out because of me. I sent him a telegram when I finally reached town and pretended I was someone else who had happened upon the massacre.”
“But…but it had nothing whatsoever to do with you! You were a boy! There’s nothing you could’ve done to…your family would’ve wanted you to be saved. Your brother…you have to let him know—”
“No!” he shouted angrily, rising to his feet. “No. Let him think I’m dead. It’s less painful to him than the truth would be.”
Vaden clenched her teeth to keep from arguing with him. Now was not the time, and she knew it. “How…how did you survive? I mean, how did you come to own your land? Buy your food and pay for your shelter?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I knew where my father had hidden his money and deeds to the land—under a board in the wagon. He had put all his money and deeds in a strong box and hidden them there. My mother’s wedding ring was in there as well.” He paused and glanced at the gold band on his smallest finger. “I had possession of the rights to this land, and my daddy was very wealthy. He had thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars hidden in that box in the wagon. The thieves didn’t find it. I did. I say this land because I own the land this very house sits on. It’s only a mile and a half out from my farm. This was my Uncle Garth and Aunt Shandra’s house. It’s just as they left it ten years ago. I came to town with the deeds, and since I looked like a full-grown man even though I was only sixteen…nobody knew the difference. They just all assumed my Uncle Garth had sold me the property.”
Vaden hugged herself tightly, and a chill traveled through her body as she looked around her. But still the horror of what the man standing before her had endured was the focus of her attention. “How horrible for you,” Vaden whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek. What pain he must have endured. What horrible visions must there be in his memory.
Ransom Lake turned on her again, raising his voice as he spoke. “What do ya mean? I’m the one still alive! Still breathin’! I wasn’t tortured and mutilated!”
“It’s not your fault.” Vaden was not offended by his outburst. She knew for the past ten years Ransom Lake had blamed himself for the atrocities befallen his family and friends. “If you had been there…you would’ve been killed too, and what would that have accomplished?”
“I should’ve died too! If for no other reason than I was disobedient!”
“Why? So your family could’ve watched you suffer as well? So your name…your bloodline would be forever extinguished from the face of the earth? So the people who murdered your family would have yet one more murder on their heads come judgment day? Or is it for purely selfish reasons? Because, since you did live, you’ve had guilt.” Vaden was on her feet facing him now as her mouth poured out her heart’s feelings. “Oh, I don’t mean guilt over the fact you were disobedient to your father or because you weren’t there when it happened. I mean the guilt you’re feeling because you know you have so much to offer other people…to offer the world. And instead of helping others, instead of bringing joy to others, you’ve chosen to hide away for years, selfishly keeping to yourself!”
“I’ve helped people plenty, Vaden! Whenever tragedy hits I—”
“Yes, tragedy! You do help then! More than most men would, and I’ll not deny the wonderful deeds you do. But what about daily? What about the other hearts secretly aching like yours is? What do you do then? I mean…it’s a selfish act in itself you’ve kept yourself hidden behind that pelt of hair for so many years. Just imagine the women who would’ve had their day brightened, their hearts filled with delight, at simply laying eyes on a man as handsome as you!”
Ransom grinned a bit, the anger seeming to rinse off him immediately as he chuckled quietly. “Oh, Vaden. Leave it to you to come up with somethin’ like that as a method of doin’ good in the world.” The gloom and oppression hanging heavy in the room a moment before lifted. Smiling, he walked to her, taking her shoulders between his hands and saying, “I know there’s reason to what ya say, girl. But…it’s worn on me for ten long years. It’s not just gonna go away because I told ya about it. But I know ya mean well. You’re a good kid, ya know that?”
Vaden closed her eyes and wrenched herself from his grasp, turning to look into the flames of the fire. Her heart still ached from the pain of his story and was added upon by his condescending compliment.
“I am a woman, Mr. Lake—not an infant goat!” She was hurt. It hurt her deeply every time he brought to light that he saw her as a child.
“Now come on. I didn’t mean it like that,” he explained.
“Why is it that Yvonne being nineteen, only one year my senior…why is it because she’s beautiful, elegant, soft-spoken…why is it she’s considered a mature woman to be sought after by every eligible bachelor in the state? But because I’m short, plain, speak my mind…why is it I’m viewed as a child? Yvonne knows how to portray something she isn’t entirely made of. I’m truly myself! At all times and in all places. Why is it everyone still treats me as a child? Everyone except Jerome Clayton.”
Ransom Lake said nothing for a moment. She assumed he was still thinking of his painful memories. But then he did speak.
“It’s the spark in ya, that light shinin’ in your eyes like the brightness of the sun. It’s one reason I was so mad when I realized what those boys had done to ya on Halloween. A life can be robbed of that spark—of that love for livin’. If anybody knows that, it’s me. I was afraid they’d stolen your innocence that night, that you’d never be the sweet thing always gettin’ herself into a fix and puttin’ her foot directly into her mouth. But ya pulled through it.” Vaden turned to see his eyes narrow as he approached her and once again took her by the shoulders. “You bucked up—kept your wits and your love of life about ya. I’m not blind! I know it scared ya. It made ya recognize ugly things ya hadn’t before. And I suppose you’ll never be quite the same now. But you were the one talkin’ about makin’ people feel happy, puttin’ joy in their souls. Well, I figure that’s how folks feel when you’re around. Comfortable. Not like they’ve gotta treat ya different, but like they’re your friend. And speakin’ of Jerome Clayton, it’s why I got so mad at ya for sparkin’ with the boy. He’s not worthy of ya. He doesn’t appreciate ya or know how to make a life for a girl like you. I was mad at you for even considerin’ on him. I’m irritated that ya still do.”
“Is that why you chose to be so cruel to me that night? That first night you…in the alley? Are you trying to tell me that the reason you…you…”
“Kissed you?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Vaden was uncomfortable. The thoughts of Ransom Lake’s tragic life were pushed aside for a moment as his intense gaze made her uneasy. “Are you trying to tell me the reason you…did that is because you…” She was uncharacteristically tongue-tied for a moment. The hypnotic quality of his stormy eyes as they gazed at her in the firelight caused her to stumble in her words. “It was cruel,” she finished.
“Cruel? How?” he asked in a whisper.
She couldn’t possibly tell him the truth—that because of his kiss she knew she would never be able to kiss another man and not pine away for Ransom Lake. That his kiss had only served to seal her love more deeply.
“Because…because…” she stammered, “because you knew…you
knew when you did it, I could never…I could never be content with a man like Jerome Clayton.”
“A boy like Jerome Clayton,” he corrected her. He smiled at her, dropped his hands from her shoulders, and said, “We’re too tired to be discussin’ such things, girl. You look worn out. I think I’ve taxed your mind and emotions enough this wicked night. Why don’t ya just lie down on that old sofa over there? It’s dusty, I know. But it’ll do.”
Vaden turned from him and closed her eyes, squeezing a tear from each one and letting the droplets of emotion sit on her cheeks as she opened them again and looked into the fire.
“I’ll warm up here for a minute more, thank you,” she mumbled.
“One more thing,” he added. “What I’ve confided in ya tonight…it can’t go beyond this room. Do ya understand?”
Vaden shook her head and wiped at the tears. “Why don’t you just give me a good paddling and send me to bed without my dinner, Mr. Lake?” The sarcasm and hurt in her voice were heavy.
“You’re one to be pointin’ the finger at self-pity!” he nearly shouted unexpectedly. “There isn’t one manin town who thinks you’re a baby, Vaden.”
Vaden turned to face him, surprised at his outburst.
“So quit tryin’ to coax me into givin’ way to my weaknesses where you’re concerned and kissin’ ya again.” He cleared his throat and looked back toward the fire. “Now, settle your little fanny down on that sofa.”
Vaden stood aghast at his remark. “I…what do you mean by…coax you into…I can’t believe you would even say such a thing! I’ve apologized for that! And you should forget about it. I can’t believe you would say—”
“Oh, yes, ya can. You know me better than anyone, or so you professed to me just a minute ago. It doesn’t shock ya one bit.” He moved to her again, taking her forcefully into his arms and pulling her body against the strength of his own. “Why don’t ya just tell me the truth about it all? Rid your conscience of what you’ve been tryin’ to say to me tonight in the lonely seclusion of this house.”
She was helpless in his arms. So surprised had she been to find herself there she was unable to react at first. And now, now it was such ecstasy to be there, bound tightly in his powerful arms, the warmth of his body heating her own and the smell of his skin, his hair, and his breath filling her lungs and taunting her senses, she was stunned into silence—paralyzed with delight.
“Scold me for it if ya must, but spit it out, girl. You’re angry with me for goin’ about it the way I did that first night I kissed ya. That’s it, isn’t it?” he whispered as he dusted the long-forgotten soot from her cheeks with the back of his hand. “Maybe angry at me too, for bein’ weak that night Nathaniel was drivin’ us home. But you…you provoked me.” He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “More than that, girl, of your own admission, ya willfully tempted me into takin’ advantage of ya like I did.”
“I-I…” she stammered, unable to defend herself, for he spoke no more than the absolute truth, and she knew it.
“I’m not blamin’ you, Vaden. I’m not even telling ya that ya did anything wrong. You were frightened, sorrowful, and I was there, probably seemin’ to you the knight in shinin’ armor. But I was weak…in an uncertain state of mind myself.”
Vaden closed her eyes, humiliated and unable to look at him as he continued.
“And I want ya to understand that I am sorry. I’m sorry I failed you that night. That I let myself—”
“Stop it. Just stop it,” Vaden pled in a whisper, shaking her head. “None of it was your fault. None of it. I…I was angry with you in a manner. Hurt because you slighted me so obviously at the social that night.” But he wasn’t listening. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his own guilt. And when he spoke, his words puzzled Vaden.
“The night I caught Jerome Clayton slobberin’ all over ya, maybe I wasn’t so tender and patient with ya. But remember, I’m way out of practice. And in the wagon…well, I am a man, Vaden. How did ya expect I would react?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Vaden forced out in a whisper. She had to get away from him. It was too much, too wonderful to be in his arms, the fire warming them, the scent of the wood burning.
He lowered his voice when he spoke next, and the provocative intonation of it was Vaden’s undoing. In Ransom Lake’s arms, nothing else mattered in the world.
“Ya want to be treated like a woman, is that it? And ya don’t think I treat ya like one, do ya?” Still holding her tightly against his body with one arm, he raised a hand to her face, cupping her cheek against his palm while his thumb traced the soft outline of her lips. “Well, maybe you’re right. And I’ll confess there’s a reason for that. But there isn’t anybody here now, is there? Nobody to gossip, nobody to get jealous, nobody to scold me.”
Vaden closed her eyes for a moment, trying to believe what was happening. But she opened them again almost immediately to find his storm-filled eyes intent upon her.
“Do ya want me to kiss ya, Vaden? I mean kiss ya the way I didn’t on those other occasions? There are so many different ways to kiss a woman. The way I kissed ya the first time, that was a teaching kiss—a kiss to prove somethin’. The way I kissed ya the second time, now that—and I’ll say it to ya plain—was a kiss from a man who had been tempted physically by a girl he…”
Vaden opened her mouth to speak, to try to deter him, but no sound escaped her lips.
“Those other occasions were different. Forced somehow, I guess. I couldn’t possibly have done a good job of it either time before, but look at me now—the fire burnin’ warm, nobody around for miles. So…you just give me the chance, Vaden Valmont, and I’ll kiss you like I didn’t have time to before.”
Vaden closed her eyes once more, digging deep within herself for something to cling to, something to anchor her to reality. She had to refuse him. To save herself, her heart, she must refuse him, remove herself from his embrace. But there was nothing—only Ransom Lake standing before her, the vision and feel of her love for him permeating her heart, mind, and soul. The desire was too strong. She wanted nothing else in that moment but to feel his lips on hers again. To taste his divinely perfect kiss.
“You can trust me, ya know, sweet thing. I’m no rounder,” he said.
Then, before she could stop herself, she heard a barely audible, “I know it,” escape her mouth. She prayed he hadn’t been teasing her, hadn’t been tormenting her just to make a fool of her—to prove her a child. But this was Ransom Lake, and he was not capable of rendering such a cruel gesture to her. As he pulled her even tighter against his body, her hands rested gently on his solid, muscular chest, and she could only stare into the warm storm in his eyes as he grinned triumphantly for a moment before his face went solemn as it moved down toward hers. But an instant before his lips would’ve touched hers, Vaden turned from him and tried to push herself away.
“Vaden?” he asked quietly.
“I’m…I’m not good at it,” she confessed, ashamed somehow of her innocence and inexperience.
He took her chin in his hand and turned her face to his once more, an amused grin warming his features. “Vaden…you’re good at everything. I wouldn’t be tryin’ this on you again if ya hadn’t a boiled my blood the very first time.”
“But you’re…you’re Ransom Lake,” she told him, as if he weren’t aware of the fact.
“Yes, I am,” was all he whispered before he suddenly took her lips to his before she could shy away again.
His first kisses were like honeyed confection, sweet and tender, but after a few moments she felt his hand caress the back of her bodice as it traveled from her waist, over her back, finally entangling itself in the softness of her hair. He tugged ever so gently on her hair, and she tipped her head back slightly, gasping as she felt his kiss leave her lips and travel to her neck. He placed several long, soft kisses on her throat. The impassioned turbulence in his eyes captured her bliss-filled ones a moment before his kiss to her mouth was hers ag
ain, full, demanding, and enrapturing every fiber of her being.
Vaden understood in that moment there was nothing to be gained from experience when it came to returning a man’s kiss. She knew either a woman loved a man, and for that reason her soul and body knew how to kiss him, or she didn’t, and her soul, mind, and body had no cause to want to kiss him. However, Vaden knew with everything she was, with all her femininity, Ransom Lake was a man whose kiss went far beyond that of the average man. Ransom Lake was unusually proficient at it—the way his arms held her, the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing, the way he toyed with her mouth one moment and exhausted it with overwhelming and demanding passion the next. Vaden perceived she was made to fit his kiss perfectly—to return it the way he would most enjoy and relish.
Suddenly, however, he pushed her away gently, taking several steps backward as he ran his fingers through his hair, an expression of confusion on his face.
“What am I doin’?” he mumbled, a look akin to panic puckering the brow of his handsome face. Vaden felt self-conscious and somehow ashamed. “Your Uncle Dan would kill me. What am I doin’?” Then he lunged forward, taking her face between his hands as he nearly shouted, “What are ya doin’ to me?”
“Nothing!” Vaden forced the defense from her lungs as tears escaped her eyes. “I-I haven’t done anything.”
His fingers went to her lips, caressing them with unusual softness as his hands shook anxiously. Taking her chin firmly in his trembling hand, he pulled her face to his once more, ravaging her mouth with a final, moist, intensely passionate kiss. When he ended it, slowly, tenderly, his trembling had ceased, and he smiled at Vaden understandingly.
“I’ve never tasted anything as satisfyingly delicious as you, Vaden. Not in my whole life. I think you’re my favorite flavor.” Then he turned from her, retrieved another log from the nearby pile, and tossed it into the hearth. “Now you go on over there and cuddle up on that sofa…alone. We’ll get ya home first thing in the mornin’. And…uh…this…this business between me and you…I know you’ll understand when I say that…it’s just the moment here. The situation nearly demanded that I…the loneliness of the night and atmosphere.”
The Visions of Ransom Lake Page 21
