“Yep. He’s out here every other month or so, waitin’ on the light. I usually just keep a close eye on him,” he explained. “He ain’t the only one. I figure he’ll be haulin’ some sweet little filly out here one day, hopin’ to find her in his arms once the light appears and frightens her.” He grinned a bit and lowered his voice. “You’d be plum astonished if I told ya some of the goin’s-on I’ve seen out here durin’ a full moon.”
Violet smiled and felt a delicious curiosity rise within her. “Goings-on?” she whispered. “What kind of goings-on?”
He paused, seeming to consider whether or not he should answer. “Some I can’t mention, bein’ that I do have a little bit of a gentleman left in me,” he said.
Violet felt her eyes widen. “Really? Well…what can you tell me?”
He grinned. “Well, I can tell ya that Sam Capshaw—he works over at the livery with his pa—I can tell ya he and Mary Pierson are far more than just sweet on each other,” he said.
Violet smiled, nodding with encouragement that he should continue.
“Mrs. Wilson, the widow lady who owns the dress shop? She’s been keeping company with Mr. Deavers…since about three months after his wife passed.”
Violet giggled, delighted with the secret sweethearts of Rattler Rock that Stoney was revealing. “Anyone else?” she prodded.
“That little girl in yer school, Katie Mill?” he began, “I reckon she got her first kiss just last month when Hagen Webster drug her out here in the middle of the night. They missed seein’ the light though.” He paused and smiled at her. “They were too wrapped up in other business. The light was here, but they missed seein’ it.”
Violet laughed, mercilessly twisting the strand of her hair she’d been toying with. “If folks only knew what you’ve seen!” she giggled. “But they know you don’t like trespassers. What do they think…that you just happen not to be here on the nights that they are?”
He shrugged and smiled, and Violet felt her heart flutter a little at the sight of the long dimples displayed in his cheeks.
“I’m guessin’ they ain’t too worried about who else might be around,” he said. He looked at her, his dazzling smile broadening. “They’re usually a little more interested in other things.”
Violet giggled again. Somehow the knowledge that Stoney Wrenn knew such secrets enlivened her mind—thrilled her.
She glanced back to the house then and gasped when she saw the tiny flicker of light in one of the bottom floor windows. “I see it!” she breathed.
“Where?” Stoney asked in a whisper.
“Just there, in that lower window. Do you see it?” Violet’s eyes widened; her heart began to beat with an anxious measure. The light—the light of the lovers’ moon! She saw it! She watched as the tiny light grew until it looked very much like a candle flame.
“You do see it, don’t you?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Stoney answered.
Goose bumps raced over Violet’s arms and legs; her mind burned with wonder. The light—it was there! She was witnessing it again, just as she had so many years ago. She marveled at the fact that Stoney sat next to her now, just as he had on the other occasions she’d seen the light.
“It’s moving,” she whispered as she watched the light pass from one window to another.
“It’ll climb the stairs now,” Stoney whispered. “We won’t see it again until it’s at the top of the stairs.”
Violet held her breath—waited. She smiled and clasped her hands together in delight as the light did appear in one of the upper windows. “What do you think they’re doing?” she whispered. “What are they looking for? You do think there are two ghosts, don’t you? Just like Buddy once told us?”
“I know there’re two,” Stoney said. “One light maybe…but I know they’re two souls.”
He sounded so certain—so sure. Violet forced her gaze from the light in the upper window of the old house to Stoney. He wasn’t looking at the house or the light; he was looking at her. A heartache Violet could never have before fathomed gripped her all at once. Stoney Wrenn—how she’d missed him!
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Because…because I know who they are,” he said.
“The rich man from New York City and his wife, yes. Buddy told us,” she whispered.
“No, I mean I know exactly who they are. Buddy told me their names.”
Violet gulped and felt goose bumps ripple over her arms. “He did?” she breathed. “Who? What were their names?”
Stoney’s eyes narrowed. “I-I’m not sure I should—”
Violet shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
It was wrong of her to intrude the way she had—intrude on whatever secrets Buddy had shared with Stoney before his death. Perhaps Buddy had made Stoney promise not to tell anyone the names of the ghosts. In that moment, Violet resented her father for taking her away from Rattler Rock. If she’d stayed, maybe Buddy Chisolm would’ve told her the names of the ghosts too. If she’d stayed, maybe Stoney Wrenn wouldn’t be courting Miss Layla Asbury.
“But…it is proof, isn’t it?” she whispered.
“What do ya mean?” he asked.
Violet watched the light in the house—watched it slowly move from room to room. “The ghosts in the old house,” she said. “It’s proof that…though people die, love never does. Why else would they be wandering together tonight?” She looked to him. “If they didn’t still love each other, they wouldn’t be here together…would they?”
“I guess not,” Stoney said.
Violet’s heart was pounding so wildly within her bosom that its rhythm was echoing in her head. Stoney Wrenn—how she’d missed him! How she’d loved him! How she feared she would always love him! Silently she told herself she didn’t even know this man. She’d known the boy, yes. But the man was different—wasn’t he? She could not have legitimate feelings for a man she’d never known.
Stoney looked back to the house. “It’s gone,” he said.
Violet looked to see that the house stood dark once more—empty and lifeless against the night sky. The light of the lovers’ moon was gone, and now Stoney Wrenn would go too. She knew he would, and she must tell him before he left. It was the only way to ease her mind—at least, ease it a little.
“I lied to you yesterday,” Violet whispered. “I didn’t come back to Rattler Rock because I missed it…or because I wanted to teach here.” She looked back to him—nearly couldn’t speak when she saw the glowing opals of his eyes intently watching her, the deep frown puckering his brow. “I came back…because I once promised a boy I wouldn’t forget him…that I’d come back and make certain he was all right.”
“I figured that,” he said. “You haven’t changed all that much…and I figured guilt had been eatin’ at ya…whether ya shoulda let it or not.”
Violet glanced away—up into the sky—to the large ivory moon hanging overhead. “Were you all right, Stoney Wrenn?” she asked in a lowered voice, afraid of the answer he might give. “Have you had a good life? What happened to your parents?” She looked to him once more. “To your mother?”
Stoney inhaled a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I left Rattler Rock for a time…and when I come back, my pa had packed up my mama and left. I never heard from them again.”
Violet felt tears well in her eyes. Not only had she abandoned Stoney, but his parents had too. No matter what kind of a monster his father had been, Stoney’s mother had loved him—and he had loved her.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be,” he said. “It ain’t yer fault. And besides, me and ol’ Buddy, we had a fine time.” He smiled. “A real fine time. Oh, he worked me hard…indeed he did. But it was good for me. And durin’ it all, we had good time of it.”
“I’m so sorry, Stoney,” Violet began. “So sorry that—”
“I’ve been fine,” he interrupted. “You didn’t need to worry about me al
l this time…and ya certainly don’t need to worry over me now. All right?” His eyes were warm and encouraging. His smile was beautiful—sincere.
Violet nodded, knowing her guilt and remorse would never subside, no matter his assurances. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and said, “You do seem to be just fine. And…and you’ve got your home and your property now…and your girl.” She forced herself to look up at him, to smile. “All this time I guess I…I should’ve known you’d be fine.”
He nodded. “You did know me purty well,” he said. “So ya shoulda known I’d be just dandy. I feel bad that ya worried so much over it…when there weren’t really nothin’ to worry over. And I feel bad that yer stuck in Rattler Rock now because of it.”
Violet shook her head and forced a smile. She stood up from the old log and smoothed her skirt. “I’m not stuck here,” she said. “I really didn’t like teaching in the city—not at all. The children here, they’re far more interesting…far more willing to learn than others I’ve taught.” She looked at him. “And I really do like Rattler Rock. I really did miss it.” She felt a tear escape her eye and travel over her cheek as he stood up from the log too. “But I do want you to know…that boy I left…that boy who was my friend when I was just a silly schoolgirl myself? I did worry about him. I hoped he was all right, that his daddy quit beating on him, that he had good people in his life and grew up happy. I loved that boy,” she whispered. She brushed the tear from her cheek and forced a smile.
She watched as Stoney’s eyes narrowed, glowing opalescent in the moonlight. She saw his jaw clinch and lock tight as he mumbled, “That boy loved you.”
More tears escaped Violet’s eyes as she felt a new sort of heartache envelop her again. This was it: the moment when her soul would have to let go of the boy Stoney Wrenn—for good. That boy was gone, and in his place stood a man, a man who led a life vastly separate from hers.
“Thank you,” she began, “for trying to ease my mind…for trying to soothe my guilt.” She turned to him, reached out, and placed her hands on his shoulders as she raised herself on the tips of her toes and placed a lingering kiss to his left cheek. In that moment, she inhaled the scent of him—the scent of pine and cedar, of leather and grass. She felt the warmth of his whiskery cheek against her lips and wondered how she would ever purge such a man from her mind and heart. She must let go of him. She knew she must. After all, he’d let go of her a long time ago. Furthermore, it seemed he belonged to someone else now. Violet’s stomach churned as she thought of Miss Layla Asbury—of Stoney’s affection for the young woman in town.
Violet’s musing was interrupted, however. She gasped as Stoney reached out, taking her cheek and chin in one hand.
“Don’t worry. I’ll just do this once,” he mumbled. “Just because I always wanted to…and never had the chance.”
“D-do what?” Violet breathed.
“Kiss Viola Fynne,” he whispered.
Breathless, Violet felt warmth flood her body as Stoney’s lips pressed to hers in the softest of kisses. His powerful hand tightened at her chin and cheek as he kissed her a second time. Violet’s heart was pounding with such wild ferocity she thought she might fly apart! She wanted to touch him—wanted his arms around her—to be held against the strong protection of his body. Yet he did not endeavor to embrace her—or even touch her in any manner other than holding her face in one hand as his third and fourth kisses to her lips lingered far, far longer than the first two had.
As their fourth kiss ended, Violet felt his grip on her face lessen. Yet as his mouth began to leave the vicinity of her own, Violet whispered, “Just once more. You know how I hate even numbers.”
She heard him chuckle and mumble, “Oh, that’s right,” a moment before he kissed her a fifth time—kissed her more firmly than he had before, his lips slightly parted, the warm moisture of his mouth causing a second and third wave of goose bumps to cover her body.
“Now,” he began as he dropped his hand from her face and straightened to his full, intimidating height, “no more luggin’ guilt around over me. I’m fine. I’m happy and…” He paused, smiling at her as his green-blue opal eyes sparkled in the moonlight. “And nobody’s beatin’ on me anymore. We were friends once. We’ll stay friends now.” His smile broadened. “We just won’t go wadin’ in the crick in our underwear.” He chuckled and added, “Although, from what I seen earlier today, you haven’t given that up. Let’s just say we won’t go wadin’ in the crick in our underwear together.”
Violet giggled, delighted by his teasing, still tingling from his kisses. It was a dream come true, being kissed by Stoney Wrenn. Violet had dreamt of it since she was a little, tenderhearted girl. Though she wondered how anything else in life could ever measure the thrill and pure pleasure she’d known when he’d kissed her, she was thankful it had happened.
“I’m just relieved it was you who found me that way…and not someone else,” she told him. “Just imagine the mess if someone else had found me like that, right on the heels of my getting the children all stirred up with my own stories of this place.” She turned from him, for somehow her heart was aching in looking at him. Looking to the old Chisolm place, now dark and lifeless once more, she added, “I’m bound to get myself in a pickle or two here.”
“Well, as long as ya keep Coby Fisher eatin’ out of yer hand, you’ll be fine,” Stoney said. He leaned over and picked up the Winchester he’d propped up against the log. “You best run on back to your little house, schoolteacher,” he said, “before ol’ womanizin’ son of a…gun Stoney Wrenn…shoots ya for trespassin’.”
Violet nodded, picked up her lantern, and sighed. “Good night,” she said.
He only nodded, and she turned to make her way toward the road.
Stoney winced as he watched Violet Fynne make her way through the tall grass. She’d made him feel things. He swore to himself he would begrudge her the fact forever. The boy she’d known was dead; he’d died the day her father had taken her away. Yet the man he was mourned the boy—mourned the happiness he’d once known because of a girl named Violet—mourned the loss of the girl who might have made his life worth something.
He could still feel the softness of her kiss, still sense the sweet fragrance of her skin. His mouth watered in wanting to taste hers, and he closed his eyes against the vision of her walking away from him. Still, he worried for her—just as he always had. Quietly, he made his way to the row of young cottonwoods that ran alongside the road. He’d follow her home, make certain she arrived at her little house all safe and sound. Then he’d head back to his place and get some rest. At least the little schoolteacher’s house was closer to his place than Violet’s daddy’s place had been all those years before.
Silent and unseen, he followed alongside the road, keeping to the trees and tall grasses. He couldn’t help but smile when he heard Violet begin to hum. No doubt she was unsettled at walking home alone in the dark, especially after having seen the light in the old house. He knew the tune she was humming—a song they’d always sang as children, an old saloon song Buddy Chisolm had taught them. He wondered if Violet was even conscious of what melody she was humming. He couldn’t help but whisper the words to the song as he followed her.
“‘How the fellers all loved that red petticoat, the one of sweet Maggie McGee’s. How them ruffles would fly when she’d take to the stage and kick up her red-stockin’ed knees.’”
He chuckled quietly as he watched Violet climb the steps of her little house, open the door, and disappear inside. He felt bad—guilty for the fact she’d worried about him for so long. Yet something deep within him rested in knowing she’d kept the promise she’d made to him nearly ten years before. Violet Fynne had returned to Rattler Rock, and she’d returned to see that he was all right.
Stoney shook his head as he turned and headed back toward his own place. Part of him—the grown-up man he was—couldn’t believe she’d actually kept her promise. Still, the boy, lost somewhere along th
e way, whispered to him—asked him why he was surprised to find her returned. After all, hadn’t she promised him she would?
“Stoney!”
Jimmy’s loud whisper startled Stoney from his thoughts of the past. Jimmy was panting—had been running.
“What is it, Jim?” Stoney asked.
“You was wrong this time,” Jimmy explained. “Somebody is millin’ around tonight. I guess knowin’ the light might show up tonight didn’t scare ’em off after all.”
“Are they in the house?”
Jimmy nodded. “At least they was. They mighta left while I was trackin’ you.”
Rage roared inside Stoney’s head; his breath came angry and labored. “I swear, I’ll shoot ’em if I catch ’em, Jimmy,” he growled.
“I know…and that’s why I come to fetch ya.”
Infuriated, Stoney turned, leading Jimmy back toward the old Chisolm place. He’d promised Buddy he wouldn’t let the old place be ransacked or defiled in any way—and somebody was endeavoring to do it. Ever since Buddy had passed, someone had been trying to root through the old house, and Stoney knew why. Though he didn’t know how they knew about Buddy Chisolm’s treasure, he was certain somebody did know it existed.
“You seein’ Miss Fynne home?” Jimmy asked as they hurried back toward the house.
“Yes…even though she’s a might independent,” Stoney said. “She was out to see the light tonight, and you know you should never let a woman walk home alone, Jimmy. Right?”
“Yes, sir. Even if they don’t know yer walkin’ ’em,” Jimmy stated.
“That’s right.”
“Well…did she see it?” Jimmy asked. “Did she see the light of the lovers’ moon?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, she did.” Stoney smiled at Jimmy. “And so did I.”
The Light of the Lovers' Moon Page 9
