As the cutter slipped away toward home, Vaden gazed back at the lonely house standing midst the quiet of winter. It was a house whose beauty was in its quaintness of design. She smiled sadly. It would forever be a fixed vision in her memory.
Not one word was spoken between Ransom Lake and Vaden Valmont as the mare struggled to return them to town. Vaden found her silence was induced by sorrow and shyness at the memories of her intimate moments shared with Ransom Lake in the house.
Entwine thine arms about me, love. Protect me from the cold. Release me not for need of breath…nor fear of growing old. Keep safe our love with thine embrace. Keep warm my lips with thine. Let no one interfere this space that Heaven deemed is mine.
It was the first time since the dreadful Halloween night that Vaden’s mind drew forth a favored verse from her memory. And though it was somewhat bittersweet, it seemed fitting. Vaden glanced at Ransom Lake several times and concluded his silence must be derived of the regret of letting what happened happen, for he wore a perpetual frown and did not once look at her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
At long last, the cutter pulled to a stop before the mercantile. Vaden and Ransom Lake were immediately set upon by Myra, Yvonne, and Dan as all three came bounding out of the house and into the snow beside the cutter.
“Oh, my darling!” Myra cried out, taking Vaden in a tight embrace the second she had stepped down from the conveyance. “We were so worried for ya! Oh, my dearest!”
Yvonne was next, and Vaden noticed her puzzled frown as she hugged her sister, looking to Ransom Lake curiously, then back to Vaden. “We feared the worst, Vay,” she said. Her relief at seeing her sister safely home was obvious and sincere. “The storm was so violent, and there was no way to find out if Mr. Lake had even made it to the Wimbers’.”
“Thank ya, Ransom,” Dan greeted him, putting a grateful hand to the man’s shoulder. “I’d have been beside myself if anyone else but you had gone for her. Did ya weather it out at the Wimbers’ then?”
“No, sir,” the rescuer stated plainly. Vaden watched the color drain from Ransom’s face as he removed his hat and looked her uncle squarely in the eyes to continue. “The storm moved in much faster than I anticipated, and the dark overcame us. So…we weathered the night at an old house out east on my property.”
“Oh, how terrible for you!” Myra exclaimed. “And just look at your face, sweet pea!” Aunt Myra reached out and gently touched the reddened, chapped-looking area around Vaden’s mouth. “Look how chapped your face is from the wind and such! Poor dear.”
Vaden noticed Ransom Lake close his eyes for a moment at her aunt’s referring to her damaged lips. He drew in a deep breath, and she knew he meant to confess to her aunt and uncle. She could feel his guilt radiating from him like the hot flames of a brush fire.
“Sir,” he began, addressing Dan, “I want ya to know…that although the elements demanded my stoppin’ with Miss Vaden to weather the storm…I did not act—”
“He saved our lives, Uncle Dan!” Vaden interrupted immediately. “For we would surely have been lost and frozen in the blizzard had Mr. Lake not had the foresight to stop in time.” Vaden’s eyes met Yvonne’s, and her expression of suspicion mingled with delight.
“Of course! Of course, my boy!” Dan assured the man. “Like I told ya before, I wouldn’t have sent anyone else for her, for I knew she would be safe in your hands.” Dan smiled at the man who guiltily glanced at Vaden once more. “Now let’s get in the house and warm you two up.”
“Oh, no, Dan. I really should check on the stock and—”Ransom began.
“Nonsense, Ransom. It’s Thanksgiving Day! You’ve accepted an invitation to dinner, and there’s no sense in goin’ home when you’re already here, now is there?” Dan was smiling and jolly as usual.
“Really, Dan. My stock. I’m bound to have cattle that didn’t weather too well and—”Ransom Lake began, and Vaden sensed he wanted only escape from the situation—and her.
“Uncle Dan sent Marcus Donaldson out to your place this morning,” Yvonne assured him. “Marcus offered last night to check on everyone out of town when morning came. He’ll let us know if there has been any problem at your place.”
“I’m…I’m not dressed for…”he began.
“Oh, now, Ransom Lake!” Myra scolded. “A body would think ya were trying to weasel your way out of spendin’ the day with us. Is it my cookin’ scarin’ ya away?” she teased.
“Now, Myra, ya know there’s no truth to that at all,” Ransom Lake chuckled, finally grinning a bit.
“Good! Then go on in before ya all freeze out here. I’ll take care of the horse.” Dan took hold of the mare’s reins and led her toward the back of the mercantile where the barn was. Ransom Lake glanced quickly at Vaden, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.
Myra took the man’s arm and led him into the house, babbling unceasingly about the baking she’d been about while her mind was plagued with worry during the night. Yvonne took Vaden’s arm and stayed her so Myra and Ransom Lake could not hear their conversation.
Lowering her voice to a whisper, Yvonne asked, “Well? Are you going to tell me what happened or not?”
“Nothing happened,” Vaden lied.
“You’re lying, Vay, and I’m not as stupid as you think I am! I know you, and I know how you feel about that man in there. So tell me…did you seduce him into kissing you?”
Vaden gasped and looked at her sister, eyes wide with indignation. “What a thing to say to me, Vonnie! I can’t believe you would—”
“And I suppose your lips are berry-red and chapped from the windless drive home this morning.” Yvonne giggled, and Vaden knew she was not being unkind, only playful.
“This is not the time nor the place to discuss the matter, Yvonne. Tonight. Tonight when things are quiet and Mr. Lake has gone home. Then maybe I’ll talk with you about this. Maybe.”
They entered the house, Yvonne giggling and Vaden smiling, though somewhat sadly, for it was at an end now. Her romantic adventure with Ransom Lake, the stuff of daydreams, the fairy tale…was over.
Thanksgiving Day had dawned bright and sunny, but as the morning wore on the sun hid behind dark clouds, and the snow began to fall heavily. Ransom Lake was nervous, pacing this way and that the entire morning as Dan conversed with him in the parlor. Finally, sometime after the noon hour, Marcus Donaldson arrived and reported all was well with Ransom Lake’s stock. The windbreaks had sheltered the cattle, and the remaining stock was safe in the barn, fed, and watered.
Vaden watched as Ransom reached into his front pocket and offered the man a handful of paper money in exchange for his time.
Marcus shook his head and said, “Ransom, ya know we all look after each other out here. I’m sure there’ll come a time when you’ll be returnin’ the favor. Everything’ll be fine over to your place ’til mornin’. Ya go on ahead and enjoy your Thanksgiving with these fine folks.” Marcus touched the brim of his hat to the ladies as he left.
“Ya see, my boy!” Dan exclaimed, slapping Ransom heartily on the back. “Nothin’ at all to worry about.”
“Still, this weather is turnin’ severe again,” the worried man mumbled. “I should get back before I get snowed in another night away from home.”
Dan chuckled and lowered his voice. Vaden’s ears were cocked and tightly tuned in. She heard his teasing remark to Ransom Lake. “Oh, I’m certain another night in the company of my niece won’t do ya a bit of harm.”
Vaden glanced up at Ransom Lake, whose face had gone as white as the snow outside.
“I, uh…I, uh, want to be sure ya understand that I meant no—”Ransom began in a lowered voice.
Dan’s chuckling interrupted him. “Now, I understand perfectly, my boy. Don’t you worry no more about it. I know she was safer with you than any other man on this green earth probably. A bit of sparkin’ now and then never hurt nobody.”
Vaden felt her face flush red and decided she must bre
ak her horrid habit of eavesdropping—as soon as Ransom Lake was no longer under the same roof as she was.
The turkey was splendid, the pie supreme, the conversation friendly and jolly. And the storm was monstrous. Just after dinner, Vaden heard Ransom ask her uncle for a lantern and an extra coat to borrow in order to make his way home. It occurred to her only then that the two of them had barely spoken a word to each other throughout the entire day. She chose that very moment to break her silence toward him.
“You can’t go out in this!” she exclaimed, horrified at the thought of him out in the snow. All eyes, including Ransom Lake’s, were on her immediately.
“She’s right, Ransom,” her Aunt Myra agreed strongly. “Ya can’t possibly be thinking of goin’ out in this storm. You’ll be lost and frozen for certain. Listen to that wind!”
“You’re stayin’ the night right here with us, Ransom. I’d be a crazy man to let ya go out in this weather,” Dan boomed.
“You all are very generous…but I’ve stayed my welcome way past what I should’ve, and it’s time for me to leave,” he said.
“Nonsense,” Myra sighed. She walked up to him and promptly removed his coat from where it had been slung over his arm. “You’re staying right here. We’ve plenty of room, and I’ll not have ya catchin’ another cold…maybe the death of ya this time.”
Ransom’s eyes met Vaden’s for a moment, and she immediately read their emotions. He wanted escape—escape from her. He’d been her own for one night, and she knew he had no wish to be in her company any longer. Indeed, she had played out her welcome in his presence.
“We’ve the spare bedroom, Mr. Lake,” she offered quickly. “My aunt and uncle would be more than overjoyed to have holiday company. And don’t worry. You won’t be disturbed.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, and Vaden was aware of Yvonne carefully studying both her sister and Ransom Lake. “In fact, I feel more than completely done in. It’s been a very long day. I think I’ll go to bed myself.”
“But…but it’s only just seven o’clock, sweet pea,” Myra reminded her niece. “Are ya certain ya want to—”
Vaden nodded. “I’m tired. Very tired. I think I’ll just go on to bed. Thank you again, Mr. Lake. For everything.” Turning to her aunt, she added, “And thank you for the wonderful meal, Auntie. You’ve been so wonderful to us since we’ve come. I bid you all goodnight.” Leaving everyone astounded at her early retirement, everyone except Ransom Lake, she went quietly to her room, readied for bed, and slipped beneath her covers as her tears moistened her pillowcase.
She’d had to leave him. In order for him to remain safely under her uncle’s roof, she knew she could be no more bother to him. She thought of the boots hidden beneath her bed, but she would not look at them tonight. She would not touch them, for tonight the pain in her heart was too great, and she could not endure the sight of anything belonging to him.
Vaden was quite startled when she awoke some hours later to the darkness in her bedroom. Yvonne was in bed breathing quietly and rhythmically. The clock in the hall struck a quarter past some hour of the night. Had he stayed? she wondered. Had he been so tired of her that he had decided another night anywhere near her was unendurable and ventured out into the storm? She wanted to wake Yvonne and ask her, but she knew question after question would ensue, fired at her by her sister until she had heard of the previous night’s antics and her curiosity had been quenched.
So she quietly stepped from her bed and tiptoed out into the hall. Even in the hall, she could hear the wind howling outside and knew the orange light emanating from the parlor was the fire in the hearth Dan had left burning to try to heat the house. It was terribly cold, and she wished she had taken the time to wrap herself in a blanket. The door to the spare room was closed. For fear Ransom Lake may indeed be asleep in the room beyond, she dared not open it. It would more than likely squeak open like every other door in the house. She placed her ear to the cold wood and listened, hearing nothing beyond. With a heavy, disappointed sigh, she made her way into the parlor to stand before the low flames of the fire. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the fire, the hearth, and the many warmths of the night before. The warm, provocative tone of Ransom Lake’s voice echoed through her mind. His arms had been so strong, so capable, and warming when he held her, his face so handsome, his eyes so hypnotic. His kiss…his kiss had been ecstasy, perfectly embodied.
She startled, jumping nervously, as she heard a voice behind her whisper, “What’re ya doin’ up at all hours of the night?” Turning, Vaden found herself face-to-face with the very subject of her thoughts, standing dressed in only his trousers and holding a glass of water in one hand.
“I couldn’t sleep, and I-I thought I might sit by the fire a moment,” she stammered.
“You need your rest. You’ve been greatly deprived of it lately, I think,” he muttered. Instead of returning to his room, however, he came to stand beside her.
“I suppose,” she admitted. She looked about nervously, trying to find something other than the man on which to focus her attention. It was greatly unsettling to see him again only half clothed as he was. “I mean…do you have everything you need? Are you comfortable in your room, Mr. Lake?”
He grinned and held up the glass of water before saying, “Already got what I needed. And I’m snug as a bug in that room. But thank ya just the same, Miss Vaden.” His eyes were stormy and mirthful, and she knew he knew she was uncomfortable.
She nodded nervously as her fingers fumbled with the bow at the throat of her nightdress. “I…uh…I need to say another thank you.”
“For what?” he asked, taking a drink from the glass.
“For coming to get me last evening. I know it was no small task, and I wanted you to know I have an immense appreciation of your deed.”
His grin broadened as his eyes traveled the length of her, resting at her bare feet. Vaden turned from him, going to stand nearer to the fire.
“I’m sincere in my thanks, Mr. Lake. I wish you wouldn’t look at me with that amused look of doubt each time I find myself thanking you or apologizing to you.”
“What amused look of doubt?” he asked in a whisper.
“That look. The one that is on your face just now,” she said, turning toward him and pointing to his fine feature of face.
“Well, it does seem that you’re always apologizin’ to me for some sort of somethin’, now doesn’t it? Would ya like it better if I were grouchin’ at ya every time? I swear I’d spend most of my time in town grouchin’ if that were the case. And besides, maybe I’m the one who needs to be thankin’ you for that warm evenin’ last night.”
Vaden blushed furiously, but she made no effort to defend herself, for she knew she would only succeed in making herself all the more uncomfortable. He remained standing beside her before the fire, and they were both silent for a moment. Then, an instant before she would’ve turned and left him for fear of verbally spilling her heartfelt love for him should she linger longer, he spoke two words.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered quietly.
“What?” she asked, unable to believe what he’d said or to understand why he had said it.
“Now,” he continued, “I see Jerome and Belva have stepped out of the room. So what say we have us a dance?”
“The proverbial water under the bridge, Mr. Lake,” Vaden whispered, relieved he was only teasing her once more.
“Not to me.” He looked at her, the firelight reflecting mischievously in his eyes. “I feel the need to make amends. And I promise I never make the same mistake twice.” He set his glass of water down out of the way and put a hand at her waist, gesturing for her to place her hand in his outstretched one.
Vaden smiled at him and blushed slightly as he began to waltz with her. He kept his steps small, and she fancied he held her too closely, but she was entranced by him as they danced, the only music being the warm crackling of the fire. His steps weren’t as smooth and fluid as
Jerome’s, and she was glad of it. He was heavier on his feet, and she knew Jerome would never contemplate holding her so closely. In fact, a few moments after they had begun, she cast her gaze downward and began to tremble slightly when she realized he held her close enough to his body that at every few steps she could feel the firm muscles of his upper chest brush against her chin or cheek—that every other turn she would feel the solid power of his thigh against her leg as he led her.
“You’re cold,” he muttered, misinterpreting her shivering. “You should get back to bed.” He stopped their waltz and released her. Then, as she stood dazedly gazing up at him, he whispered, “And for Belva’s benefit…” and he stooped, kissing her warmly on the forehead.
Vaden smiled even though she sensed tears wanting to rise to her eyes. How desperately she wished to relive the night before when he’d held and kissed her and almost lovingly whispered her name.
“But you see, Mr. Lake,” she said quietly, “you’ve only just proven the other girls’ point. I’m the kind of girl you want to take fishing. The kind you kiss on the forehead sweetly as you would a child. The kind you toy with in private once, when no one can see…but not the kind you make a habit of—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Ransom cupped Vaden’s chin in his powerful hand and kissed her soft lips plainly and not so very quickly. Vaden felt the now familiar and instantaneous fire ignite within her as his mouth began to work a spell over her as it had the night before. She marveled at how instantly wonderful the feel of being in his arms was, how familiar the warmth and taste of his kiss was to her. But almost as quickly as he had begun to kiss her, he stopped, holding her away from him.
“I’m a guest in your uncle’s house, Vaden. I won’t take advantage of that by—”he explained.
She was suddenly humiliated, feeling as if she had again provoked him into faltering somehow. She felt a panicked desperation. He would leave her once more and truly never be close to her again, for she knew the past two days were never to be repeated. Never.
The Visions of Ransom Lake Page 23
