The Haunting of Autumn Lake (16 page)

But the breathless words that escaped her mouth caused his eyebrows to arch in astonishment.

“I-I’m not very experienced, you know,” she whispered. “I-I’ve never really wanted anyone to kiss me before the way I’ve wanted you to…”

She gasped and blushed, and Gentry was flattered with her accidental confession.

“I mean…I mean…I was just always raised to believe that…I mean…it’s not every man that I would…that I would allow to…” she stammered. Her cheeks were as red as summer tomatoes, and Gentry grinned as she reached up, pulling the pins from her hair and tugging at her raven tresses until they hung forward over her left shoulder. In his time while convalescing at Doc Sullivan’s, as well as at the Lake farm, he’d begun to notice that Autumn began to fiddle with her hair on only two occasions. The first was when she was truly delighted about something, such as caught up in telling one of her tales. The second was when she was nervous. Gentry knew this was the second occasion. He knew she was nervous.

“How about you let me kiss you once more, punkin…just once?” Gentry said. “Then I’ll leave you be if you want me to…for as long as we need to wait out this storm.”

He smiled when he saw the spark of sheer delight twinkle in her stormy-sky-colored eyes.

“You still want to kiss me again?” she asked. “Even after—”

Gentry gave her no time to finish what she’d meant to say—and Autumn gasped as he gathered her into his arms, his mouth capturing hers in a slow, moist, and very heated kiss. She knew just how to kiss him in return now, and letting her arms slide caressively around his waist once more, she melted against him as his mouth compelled hers to match its soft, alluring persuasion.

He was careful—though he wanted to be otherwise. Gentry was careful with Autumn, for he knew she was as tender and innocent as the season of harvest itself. Like a fragile crimson leaf in the wind, Autumn could not be aggressed upon all at once. No doubt the memory of what the weasel in town had done to her was still too fresh in her mind—though she pretended otherwise. He wouldn’t have her thinking he was a wolf as well.

Oh, certainly he wanted to kiss her more aggressively—wanted to ravish her mouth and hold her so tightly in his arms that she’d hardly be able to draw breath. But although he could sense there was an untapped depth of passion simmering in her, he would not force himself on her any more than he already had. She was enjoying kissing him—savoring the slow, moist kisses his mouth was working over hers. To press her with passion might drive her away—and Gentry James did not want to drive Autumn away.

The rain had already slowed. Autumn could hear that the downpour had passed. And as Gentry pressed one last heated kiss to her mouth, she sighed. Their moment together was gone. Just as the clouds and rain had moved on, so had their juncture.

“There now,” he said as he smiled at her and stepped away. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He winked at her and added, “I told you I could warm you up a bit.”

Autumn blushed—couldn’t help but smile and roll her eyes at his teasing. Quickly she braided her hair as she watched Gentry take his wet shirt down from the nail he’d hung it from before and begin to put it on again.

“You’re puttin’ that back on?” she asked. “And what would the point of that be, might I ask?”

“It wouldn’t do to have me come trompin’ back home with you in tow and me half neked, now would it? What would your daddy think?”

But Autumn only laughed. “Clearly you don’t know my daddy as well as you think you do,” she said. “He has a tendency to think that a shirt is just somethin’ somebody invented to make a man uncomfortable.”

Gentry laughed. “Yeah. I heard your mama gettin’ on him yesterday for workin’ without his clothes on.” He sighed, finished buttoning his shirt, and looked to her. “Now come on. Let’s get you home before your daddy thinks I’ve been up to no good where you’re concerned.”

Autumn nodded—smiled when Gentry took her hand and led her through the darkness of the old bridge to the other side. As they walked home, she listened to Gentry as he explained what her father had in mind for getting the pumpkin crop to the train station. But she couldn’t think about what he was saying. All she could think was how resplendent their moments in the old covered bridge had been. The feel of his lips to hers and the taste of his mouth were still fresh, and Autumn thought that, with all the beauty of autumn and harvesttime, there was nothing more wondrous, nothing more rapturous, nothing more delicious—nothing she’d rather do in all her life than be kissed again by Gentry James.

❦

Autumn sighed. She couldn’t seem to stop sighing! Lying in her bed late that night, she was restless. The moments spent in the old covered bridge with Gentry had been heavenly, blissful, and far more wonderful than any dream Autumn had ever dreamed. She still could not believe he’d kissed her! Surely she had merely imagined it all. Yet every time she closed her eyes, she could see him—Gentry James—standing before her with his rain-wet hair tumbling over his forehead—standing there all warm and shirtless, muscular, capable, and so entirely alluring! If Autumn kept her eyes closed, she could almost feel his arms around her, sense the taste of his kiss, and relive the ecstasy of being the object of his proactive affections.

“
None else in nature doth compare
,” she began to recite in a whisper. The poem she’d read weeks before in her mother’s book of scandalous poetry had been tripping through her mind since the moment Gentry had taken her hand and led her out of the bridge following their kiss. “
Far fair beyond belief
,” she continued, “
is love’s first kiss that lovers share…and autumn’s rubied leaf.
”

Autumn smiled, for it was only then that she realized the truth of the words penned by some long-ago poet. She—Autumn Lake—loved nature and all its beauty with a vibrant admiration. And yet the kiss she’d shared with Gentry was profound. Gentry’s kiss had evoked in Autumn an unquenchable, insatiable desire—a desire to linger in his arms, with her mouth pressed to his forever.

“
None else in nature doth compare—far fair beyond belief—is love’s first kiss that lovers share and autumn’s rubied leaf
,” she repeated.

Exhaling another heavy sigh of elation mingled with frustration at not being able to settle her mind and body, however, Autumn tossed in her bed. She fluffed her pillow and lay down on her side, hoping that if she gazed out her window long enough, the dark sky, silver moon and stars, and lace curtains billowing in a cool autumn breeze would lull her to sleep.

She could hear the sounds of an autumn night—the quiet breeze whispering through drying leaves, the soothing hoot of an owl somewhere in the distance. She could hear the quiet whisper of the brook as it trickled merrily down toward the larger stream far beyond. The dying fire in the hearth of her room crackled and popped once more before wood gave way to embers—embers that smelled of smoldering piñon and cedar. There still lingered on the late September air the sweet bouquet of wind-fallen apples sleeping in the orchard grass as well, and as the nectarous breeze paused to catch its soothing breath, Autumn heard the sound of hooves—of a rider.

Her eyes had been closed, autumn’s resplendent tranquility having settled her and sleepied her at last. But at the sound of horse hooves echoing through the night, Autumn’s eyes opened wide. It was nearly midnight—she knew it was, for the clock on her mantel had only just struck the hour moments before.

“Who would be out at this hour?” she whispered to herself. Sitting up in her bed, she rose on her knees and leaned out her opened window. Peering into the darkness, she was astonished at how bright the night actually was. The silver-white moon was so bright that all the horizon before was lit like some lustrous, sterling fairy land.

Autumn’s eyes narrowed as she peered out into the pearl scene before her. There was no light coming from the bunkhouse. No doubt Gentry had drifted off to sleep hours before. Autumn smiled and once more sighed at the thought of handsome Gentry James asleep so near. Next she looked to the barn, but the doors were closed, and there seemed nothing amiss nearby.

It was then, when she looked off to the west—toward the hills rolling just beyond the orchards—that was when she saw him. Autumn’s breath caught in her throat, and the hair on the back of her neck fairly stood on end. It was him! It truly was! There, in the distance, just beyond the orchard—there, astride a black horse so dark it looked as nothing more than a shadow in the pearled moonlight—there, with ribbons of white flowing out behind him in the breeze like a shredded, bloodied battle banner—was the Specter!

“The Specter!” she tried to say, but her voice was no more than a puff of soft air. “The Specter!” she again tried to call.

Suddenly, the black horse reared and broke into a gallop toward the old covered bridge. Autumn gasped as she watched the figure on the black horse blend into the dark of the night beyond her view. And then—then Autumn Lake sat trembling, shivering with mingled terror and delight. She had seen him! She had seen the Specter!

Chapter Nine

“I’m tellin’ you all, it was awful! I was so scared I couldn’t call out…not even for help!” Autumn explained as her mother, Aunt Myra, and Uncle Dan stood in the general store, listening with rapt attention the next morning. “I’ve never been so terrified in all my life,” Autumn said. Even at the mere memory of the sight of the Specter on the dark horizon, Autumn’s arms broke into goose bumps—a far different kind of goose bumps than the ones Gentry James had caused to race over her body the day before.

Dan sighed, shaking his head. “Well, you know what this means, don’t ya?” he asked.

“What?” Myra asked.

Shrugging broad shoulders, he answered, “I guess I’m gonna have to quit callin’ that Tawny Johnson a liar…and least where her claimin’ to see the Specter is concerned.”

“Are you sure you saw the Specter, honey?” Myra asked. “Are you sure it’s wasn’t just somebody else ridin’ past the orchard?”

“At that time of night, Aunt Myra?” Vaden offered. “Nope. Autumn saw the Specter. I’m sure of it.”

“I swear, Auntie Myra,” Autumn assured Myra. “As sure as I’m standin’ here before you…that Specter was ridin’ out by our orchards last night.”

Ransom entered the store then, carrying two large pumpkins, one under each arm. “I see Autumn’s told you all about what she saw last night.” He smiled. “Myra, you’re as pale as a winter moon.”

Myra put a hand to her bosom and inhaled a deep breath. “Well, it’s one thing when Tawny Johnson and all the other silly girls in this town claim to see the Specter…but when Autumn here starts seein’ him too, then it’s time to start thinkin’ seriously about it, Ransom.”

Gentry entered the general store, lugging a large crate of apples. The moment he stepped into the room, Autumn was all atingle. And when he smiled at her, displaying those delicious dimples she loved, her heart swelled so that she thought it might burst.

“Thanks for bringin’ those in today, Ransom,” Dan said, sauntering across the room to where Ransom and Gentry were piling the pumpkins and crates of apples for the general store to sell. “I coulda just come out there and got ’em myself, you know.”

“Oh, I know it,” Ransom said. “But I also know a certain young lady whose birthday is just around the corner, and her mama is needin’ a few things for the celebration, I think.”

Autumn smiled as her father winked at her. She’d nearly forgotten that her birthday was less than a week away.

“And besides, I think Gentry was mighty glad to come into town today and find a letter and those wages William Jones sent down,” Ransom added.

“Yes, sir,” Gentry agreed. “I sure was. For one thing, I’m needin’ a new coat if I’m gonna winter out here. Where I’m from, it don’t get as cold as Ransom says you folks are used to.”

Autumn sighed with renewed relief. When her father had explained to Gentry that William Jones had indeed sent Gentry’s cattle drive wages down to Doc Sullivan from Denver, she’d been afraid Gentry would up and leave—head for Denver, even though he’d been planning to work for her father through the winter. But when Gentry explained he did indeed plan to stay on and help Ransom, Autumn’s joy had been complete. She’d been so worried that something, or someone, would strip him away from her. And though she and Gentry had not had one moment alone in each other’s company since arriving home from weathering the rainstorm in the bridge the day before, she knew by the way he smiled at her that he did not regret their kisses.

“Well, you’re in luck, son! We got coats comin’ out our ears,” Dan chuckled. “Myra has decided that everybody on the face of the earth gets as cold as she does come winter, so we’re well stocked. Take your pick.”

As Gentry followed Dan to the back of the store where the coats and boots were kept, Ransom asked Myra, “So…you were sayin’ a lot of folks have been seein’ the Specter these past couple a weeks, Myra?”

Myra nodded. “Yes. And not just the regular liars like Tawny Johnson,” she affirmed. “Nate Wimber seen him and Riley…though none of them Wimber men are welcome in my store right now.”

Ransom frowned, nodded, and mumbled, “Dang right.” He winked at Autumn to comfort her, however.

“Then there’s Candy Johnson, and you know she ain’t a liar like her sister,” Myra added. “Candy takes after her father…fortunately.”

“Anybody else?” Vaden asked. Autumn glanced to her mother and almost giggled. She could tell her mother was as delightedly terrified about the Specter sightings as she was.

“Oh my, yes, Vaden!” Myra exclaimed. “Old lady Tibbits seen it out behind her house two nights ago. Jasper Wyatt says he and his father saw the Specter ridin’ across their property when they were out to their barn last week. There’s plenty of folks that have seen the Specter. There’s even some concern about whether or not the young folks oughta be puttin’ up the spook hollow this year. But you know it’ll get done one way or the other. Fact is, havin’ the possibility of the Specter showin’ up out at the spook hollow during the county fair will make it all the more intriguin’.”