“Maybe we can read it together,” Violet said. “I think I have two copies. When you’re a little further on, I could read out loud, and you could follow along until you feel comfortable reading too.”
Jimmy’s smile broadened. “I think I’d like that.” He frowned a little, shook his head, and added, “I can’t believe I’m thinkin’ I might like to sit still and read a book one day.”
Violet placed a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “You will, Jimmy. I promise.”
“Hey there, Jimmy Ritter!”
Violet looked up to see Maya Asbury and Beth Deavers walking past.
“Hello, ladies,” Jimmy greeted. “Don’t you both look lovely this evenin’.”
Violet felt her eyebrows arch. Had Stoney Wrenn been teaching Jimmy Ritter a lesson or two of his own? Maya and Beth both blushed and giggled.
“Hello, Miss Fynne,” Maya called.
“Hello, girls,” Violet said. “Are you out for an evening stroll?”
Maya nodded. “Yes. We thought a little fresh air might be nice. It’s been such a beautiful afternoon.”
Violet glanced to Jimmy—noted the way his eyes lingered on Maya.
“Well, you two have fun,” Violet called.
“Yes, Miss Fynne,” Beth said.
“’Bye, Jimmy,” Maya added, tossing a shy wave in Jimmy’s direction.
“Goodbye, ladies,” Jimmy said.
Violet giggled as she watched Jimmy’s gaze follow the girls as they disappeared down the road. “She’s a very pretty young lady,” she said.
“Who? Maya Asbury?” Jimmy asked.
“Yes.”
“She sure is,” he said. His smile faded a bit. “I guess Dayton Fisher oughta count himself as one lucky feller.”
“Dayton Fisher?”
“Maya’s sweet on Dayton,” Jimmy said. “Everybody knows it.”
“Things aren’t always what they appear, Jimmy. Most of the time, people hide what they’re really thinking and feeling.”
“That’s what Stoney says too,” Jimmy said. “He says Maya Asbury’s sweet after me…said her sister Layla told him so.” Jimmy shook his head. “But I don’t see it. She’s far too purty and smart to look twice at a feller like me.”
“Of all the boys I’ve met in Rattler Rock,” Violet began, “you’re the most handsome and the most gentlemanly and the hardest working and—”
Jimmy laughed. “Oh, yer a charmer, Miss Fynne. You are a charmer. No wonder you and Stoney was such good friends. He’s a charmer too…and a heap more handsome than any other feller in town.” He smiled. “Even me.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Why, I’ve seen him charm just about anything out of just about anybody.”
“Then he hasn’t changed much,” Violet mumbled.
Jimmy’s smile faded. He paused, as if considering whether to say what was in his mind. “Ya know, Miss Fynne,” he began, “Layla Asbury’s awful sweet on Stoney. She’s ripe for the pickin’ as far as marryin’ goes too.”
All at once, Violet felt ill, hot, and angry. She didn’t want to talk about Miss Layla Asbury and Stoney Wrenn. Furthermore, she was experiencing a sort of self-disgust. Why did it bother her so to hear about Stoney Wrenn and his girl? Hadn’t she always held to the hope that Stoney had grown up to be happy? Certainly she had! Then why did it bother her that he might enjoy love and happiness with such a beautiful young woman?
Jimmy frowned and began, “Folks are sayin’—”
“Good evenin’ there, Miss Fynne…Jimmy.”
Violet looked up to see Sheriff Fisher rein in his horse. She hadn’t heard him approach. She guessed she’d been too enthralled in remembering the past, in encouraging Jimmy toward reading, in feeling sickened at the thought of Stoney Wrenn being so sweet on Layla Asbury.
“Evenin’, Sheriff,” Jimmy said.
Violet nodded her greeting, and Sheriff Fisher smiled at her.
He dismounted and dropped his reins over the limb of the apple tree nearby. “You helpin’ Miss Fynne with somethin’, Jimmy?” the sheriff asked.
“She’s helpin’ me,” Jimmy answered. “Miss Fynne’s gonna teach me to read.”
“Well, I suppose that’s what schoolteachers do best, after all,” Sheriff Fisher said, smiling.
“I best be gettin’ home, Miss Fynne,” Jimmy said. He picked up his well-worn hat from the porch step, plopped it on his head, and offered a hand to her.
Violet forced a smile, accepting his hand.
“I guess I’ll be by tomorrow about the same time.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Violet said.
“Evenin’, Sheriff,” Jimmy said as he headed past Sheriff Fisher and out onto the road.
“He’s a fine young man,” Sheriff Fisher said as he watched Jimmy Ritter head for home. “The other boys in this town would do good to look to that boy and learn somethin’—includin’ my little brother.”
Violet returned Sheriff Fisher’s smile.
He propped one foot on the top step of the porch and leaned forward, resting one arm on his knee. “Dayton tells me you’ve seen the light of the lovers’ moon,” he said.
Violet inhaled deeply—exhaled. This was it: telling ghost stories in school had gotten her into trouble. “Is this my first reprimand then, Sheriff?” she asked.
“No, ma’am,” Sheriff Fisher said, smiling. “And you need to start callin’ me Coby, remember?”
Violet did remember then—remembered that Stoney Wrenn had implied Sheriff Fisher liked her. She smiled, for he was a very handsome man. His sky-blue eyes combined with his dark hair did give him quite the look of a scoundrel—the delicious sort of scoundrel women favored.
“I remember,” she said. “So…you’re not here to reprimand me for telling the children I’ve seen the light out at the old Chisolm place?”
Coby Fisher chuckled, smiled, and shook his head. “Of course not. After all, I’ve seen it too.”
“You have?”
“Yep. Several times. I just told Dayton to be careful. Ol’ Stoney Wrenn would as soon shoot anybody steppin’ foot on that place as look at ’em. So I just told Dayton to keep a watchful eye out…if he ever does decide to go back and watch for the light.”
Violet frowned a little. “Everyone keeps telling me that…that Stoney Wrenn would as soon shoot you as look at you. Has he ever truly shot anyone for trespassing?” Violet thought of her own encounter with trespassing on Stoney’s property—the rifle he’d leveled at her head. Had Stoney Wrenn earned such a reputation because he’d actually shot someone for trespassing at some time?
Coby Fisher chuckled and shook his head. “He ain’t actually shot anybody, but he’s shot at ’em. We all figure it’s just safer to think he missed on purpose those times in the past than to take a chance he’s truly just a bad shot. Why? You plannin’ on waitin’ on the light? The moon’s awful close to bein’ full. Could be tonight. Could be a lovers’ moon out tonight.”
He winked, and Violet smiled. He was flirting with her—something merciless! Violet’s insides churned; her emotions swung from sheer delight to pure disappointment. Sheriff Fisher was a terribly handsome man—terribly handsome! Yet her heart whispered, But not as handsome as Stoney Wrenn.
“Well, if I ever do go looking for the light again,” Violet began, “I will be careful not to get shot by Stoney Wrenn.”
Coby Fisher chuckled. He stood straight once more. “That’ll ease my mind quite a piece, Miss Fynne,” he said. “You have yerself a good evenin’.”
“Thank you,” Violet said. “You too.”
The sheriff nodded, touched the brim of his hat, and strode back to his horse. He mounted and nodded before riding away.
Violet put a hand to her forehead and watched the sheriff ride back toward town. Turning, she gazed out in the direction Jimmy had taken, in the direction of the old Chisolm place. The moon had nearly been full the night before. Violet was certain that it would be a full moon that would rise in a few hours. She felt the familiar sens
ation of mischief stirring in her bosom. All at once, her desire to see the light of the lovers’ moon was nearly insatiable.
Stoney Wrenn had never shot a trespasser. Oh, he may have shot at them. But Violet remembered Stoney’s aim with a gun—any gun. If Stoney Wrenn ever truly meant to shoot anybody, he wouldn’t miss. Besides, she’d make sure he never knew she was there.
Violet thought of old Buddy Chisolm—of the day he told her and Stoney the story of the ghost in the fancy old house outside of town. She wanted to see it again—wanted to know she hadn’t simply dreamed seeing the light as a child.
Smiling, she turned and went into her little schoolteacher’s house. The full moon would rise—a lovers’ moon. She was sure of it, and she’d be ready. Furthermore, maybe it would be worth being threatened for trespassing again—if it meant seeing Stoney Wrenn again.
Chapter Five
Violet settled on the old fallen tree. She tucked her feet under, smoothed out her skirt, and set aside the unlit lantern she’d brought. It had been a pleasant walk to the old Chisolm place. The night air was warm, and the full moon lit the road nicely. The stars were brilliant overhead, and Violet thought that even if she didn’t see the light, her midnight meanderings had been pleasant.
The house was dark, a looming silhouette against the starry, moonlit sky. Violet shivered with nervous anticipation. Had she really seen the light of the lovers’ moon as a child? She knew she had. Yet ten years had turned memory to doubt, and she longed to see it again. She remembered the first time Stoney Wrenn had brought her to the same place in the middle of the night. For hours they’d waited—whispering their conversation, waiting with delicious expectancy—until Stoney had hushed her and pointed to a window on the lower floor of the old house.
Violet still remembered the gasp she’d caused to echo through the night, the way Stoney had clamped his hand over her mouth and shushed her so that the ghosts wouldn’t be frightened away. What an adventure they’d had that night! What a glorious, delightfully frightening adventure!
Violet sighed, pleased as a different memory began to play out in her mind. She smiled—could almost hear Stoney’s voice reading the last few lines of a chapter in Dickens’s A Christmas Carol. Goose bumps rippled over her arms, the effect of the memory of a feeling experienced so long ago.
Stoney closed the book.
“It’s gettin’ too dark to read…even with the lantern,” he said.
Violet nodded and rubbed at the goose bumps along her arms—goose bumps caused from listening to Stoney read of a ghost shrouded in a black hooded robe. She looked to Stoney, wondering if he really felt it was too dark to continue reading. Or had the description of the ghost in the book unsettled him as greatly as it had unsettled Violet?
Violet glanced about. Evening was falling fast. She knew the walk home would be terrifying for the sake of having just listened to Stoney read of the wandering spirits who walked the earth with Ebenezer Scrooge.
“I-I guess I’ll start home then,” Violet whispered.
“I’ll take you,” Stoney said.
“No, Stoney,” she said. “I’ll be fine. We don’t need your pa wonderin’ where ya are. He might get angry again.”
Stoney smiled. He stood, taking hold of the lantern handle in one hand and Violet’s trembling hand in his other. “He won’t miss me for a while,” he said. He raised the lantern and peered toward the road. “Come on. Let’s get ya home before we’re both too yeller to move.”
Violet smiled. Stoney was so thoughtful! She knew he was risking a beating by seeing her home, but as always, he cared more for her than he did for himself.
They stepped out onto the moonlit road, and Violet said, “Maybe we should’ve just finished the book. Maybe it had a happy ending and we wouldn’t be scared right now.”
“I don’t see how it can end good,” Stoney said. “Ol’ Scrooge oughta be dead from fright by the end. I don’t see how he’s hung on this long—ghosts runnin’ this way and that all the time.”
“Well, no matter how it ends, I won’t sleep a wink for a year after this!” Violet confessed.
“Me neither,” Stoney mumbled. He frowned and looked to her as they walked hand in hand down the road toward town. “Viola, did you know this story was gonna give us the willies like this when ya started us readin’ on it?”
Violet shook her head. “No,” she said. “My daddy just said it was a wonderful book—a real adventure that made a person think about his own life.”
“Well, more’n likely it’ll keep me thinkin’ about my own death,” Stoney said. “I swear my heart’s gonna pound itself right out of my chest!”
Violet nodded in agreement. She moved closer to Stoney—wrapped her arm around his strong one that held her other hand.
A sudden realization washed over her. “Oh, Stoney! You’ll have to walk home all by yourself!” she exclaimed.
“I’ll be all right,” he said. “Let’s just hurry so’s I can have it over with.”
Violet smiled. He always thought of her first—always. Though she did she feel guilty, knowing Stoney would have to walk home in the dark, visions of ghosts swimming in his mind, while she was safe in a warm-lighted house with her mother and father.
“Let’s finish the book tomorrow so we don’t have to be scared anymore,” she told him.
“Fine by me,” Stoney said. “And I get to choose what we read next. All right?”
Violet smiled at him. “All right.”
They both startled, and Violet let out frightened yelp as a bird took flight from the grasses at the side of the road.
“I’m definitely pickin’ out the next book,” Stoney chuckled, shaking his head. “And it won’t have nothin’ to do with ghosts.”
Violet squealed—startled from her thoughts as Stoney Wrenn stepped over the log from behind, sitting down next to her.
“Yer tresspassin’, schoolteacher,” he said.
Violet placed a hand to her bosom, attempting to calm the painful racing of her heart. “You nearly scared me to death, Stoney Wrenn!” she scolded.
“Well, I thought about shootin’ ya…so count yer blessin’s,” he mumbled.
She looked to him. He wasn’t smiling—not his mouth anyway. Yet she was sure the mischief shining in his green-blue opal eyes meant he was only teasing about having considered shooting her.
“Don’t tell me yer out here waitin’ on the ghosts,” he said.
Violet shrugged. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I was just out for a stroll and stopped to rest on this old log.”
His eyes narrowed. “Out for a stroll in the middle of the night?” he asked.
“Of course I’m waiting for the ghosts,” she said. “The light of the lovers’ moon. Isn’t that what it’s called now?”
“It is,” he answered.
Violet frowned and tipped her head to one side as she studied the great, dark edifice before her. The house seemed so lifeless—so lonely. “When did it become that…the light of the lovers’ moon?” she asked.
When she lived in Rattler Rock as a child—when she and Stoney had sat together on bygone occasions waiting to see the light—it had merely been referred to as “the ghost light out at Bud Chisolm’s old place.” Sometimes folks had called it “the ghost light.” But never anything as fancy and romantic as “the light of the lovers’ moon.” She wondered how the phrase had come to be, who had first uttered the phrase.
Stoney shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered. “Folks have been callin’ it that since before ol’ Bud passed.” He looked at her, his gaze lingering on her face. “I always thought it sounded about like somethin’ you woulda come up with.”
“I suppose it does,” Violet said. She smiled at him, and she fancied his expression softened. “I’m glad Mr. Chisolm left it to you.” She looked from Stoney to the old house. “Anybody else wouldn’t have cared about the old place.”
“How do ya know I care about it?” he rather grumbled.
“You’re here,
aren’t you? Threatening trespassers?” She nodded to the Winchester rifle he’d propped up against the log.
“I guess.”
“Sheriff Fisher says you’ve never really shot anybody for trespassing though,” she said. “He knows you’re too good a shot to have accidentally missed.”
“Sheriff Fisher don’t know everything,” Stoney said. “But I see he’s got yer attention already.”
Violet shrugged. “He stopped by this afternoon while Jimmy and I were having our lesson. I think…I think he was reprimanding me for telling the children that I had seen the light out here. I think he was afraid it might cause them to get into mischief.”
Reaching up, Violet pulled a length of hair free from the loose bun she’d swept it into that morning. Almost unconsciously, she began twisting the hair with her index finger.
Stoney nearly smiled. Violet Fynne still twisted her hair when she was nervous. He willed his expression to remain stoic—to reveal nothing akin to amusement or delight. Although some part of him was charmed to see she still owned the adorable habit of twisting her hair, the weathered man in him would not be softened.
“I guess he don’t want to see his brother shot for trespassin’,” Stoney said.
“Dayton?”
The Light of the Lovers' Moon Page 8
