The Haunting of Autumn Lake (17 page)

“I know I’ll go this year…especially if anyone sees the Specter out there before then,” Vaden said.

“For pity’s sake, woman,” Ransom growled, though a smile of amusement spread across his handsome face. “You couldn’t sleep for a week after that dang spook hollow
last
year.”

Vaden’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, and Autumn giggled as her mother said, “I know!”

“What about you, honey?” Myra asked Autumn then. “Are you gonna brave the spook hollow again this year?”

“Of course I am,” she assured her aunt. “If I can brave the old covered bridge every time I’m comin’ home from the pumpkin fields, then surely I can brave the silly old county fair spook hollow.”

“I sure do like that old covered bridge,” Gentry said as he and Dan returned to the group. Autumn blushed. Gentry grinned, adding, “Yep. It’s a fine, fine bridge in my estimation. I don’t think I’d mind walkin’ that old bridge every day if I had reason to.”

“Everybody likes that old bridge,” Dan chuckled. He winked at Myra and mumbled, “I know Myra and me do. When a man wants a little extra sparkin’ with his woman…that ol’ covered bridge is just the place.”

“Dan Valmont!” Myra scolded, blushing vermilion and slapping her husband playfully on one shoulder.

Gentry’s smile broadened and Autumn’s blush deepened as Ransom offered, “Oh, I hear you there, Dan. Why, many’s the time me and Vaden found ourselves out at that old bridge, strippin’ off our—”

“Ransom Lake!” Vaden exclaimed, clamping a hand over her husband’s mouth. “Don’t you dare say another word about it!”

Autumn’s eyebrows arched in amusement as she noted the deep crimson blush on her mother’s face.

But Ransom chuckled and pushed Vaden’s hand from his mouth. “All I was gonna say was we like to strip off our boots and socks and give our feet a nice refreshin’ soak in the stream.”

But Myra and Dan were too busy laughing, their eyes filled with mirthful moisture, to pay any mind to whether Ransom’s teasing was improper.

“Gentry is gonna think you’re a scoundrel, Ransom Lake,” Vaden scolded.

“Oh, he already knows I am, darlin’,” Ransom assured his wife as he gathered her into his arms.

“I’ll be gettin’ to the rest of those pumpkins, Ransom,” Gentry said, trying to keep from chuckling himself. He winked at Autumn on his way out of the store, and butterflies fluttered so wildly in her stomach that she nearly took flight herself with internal pleasure.

She bit her lip to contain her delight as her mother began gently beating on her daddy’s chest, demanding, “You let me go, Ransom Lake. I’m mad at you!”

“Are you now?” he asked. But as Autumn watched her daddy kiss her mother hard on the mouth—watched her mother instantly cease in struggling to escape him—she sighed with contentment.

“Oh!” Dan exclaimed. “That boy forgot his coat. Will you run this on out to the wagon for him, Autumn?” he asked, offering the coat to Autumn.

“Of course,” Autumn agreed, taking the coat and turning to head out to the wagon. But Gentry was too capable, and by the time she was outside of the store, down the boardwalk, and to the pumpkin- and apple-laden wagon, he was on his way back in, carrying two large pumpkins.

Autumn placed Gentry’s new coat under the seat of the wagon. The ripe happiness in her heart was something she’d never imagined. He liked her—Gentry really liked her. Maybe he didn’t love her, at least not yet, but
like
led to love—at least in most stories Autumn had read.

Her mother had loved her father the moment she’d seen him, and her father had done likewise of her mother. Yet to expect that Gentry’s feelings for her would be as instant as hers were for him, that would be just too impossible. It was different for her mother and father—wasn’t it?

As a hand clamped over her mouth from behind, Autumn gasped. A strong arm encircled her waist, pulling her away from the wagon and into the alley between the general store and the tailor shop. She tried to struggle, but before she knew what had happened, she found herself pinned back against the tailor shop’s wall, with Riley Wimber’s hand over her mouth, his body roughly pressed against hers, preventing any escape.

“Now you settle down, Autumn Lake,” he growled, “or I’ll see to it that your old, bowlegged Uncle Dan takes a fall from his horse next time he’s a big enough idiot to mount it, you hear me?” Autumn continued to struggle a moment until Riley added, “Or maybe I’ll just stick a knife in the gut of that purty cowboy your daddy has workin’ out at his place. Hmm? Is he all healed up from the last beatin’ I gave him yet?”

Pushing his hand from her mouth, Autumn said, “My daddy will kill you for touchin’ me, Riley Wimber!”

“Do you think so?” Riley asked, covering her mouth with his hand once more. “You think your daddy can’t get hurt, don’t you, Autumn? Do you think big, bad ol’ Ransom Lake can’t bleed and die like every other man? Well, I’ll tell you somethin’. He can. Ol’ Ransom Lake can die just like every other human bein’. And if you cause any more trouble for me, that’s what’s gonna happen. It might be your Uncle Dan, your daddy’s purty hired boy, or your daddy hisself…or even your mama…but somebody’s gonna pay if you cause me any more trouble. Do you know what folks are sayin’ about me? Hmmm?” He slammed her head back against the wall hard—hard enough she knew it would leave a goose egg behind. As tears began to trickle over her cheeks, Riley put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “You think you’re too good for me, don’t you, Autumn? Well, you ain’t. I want you…and I’ll have you. One way or the other, I’ll have you.”

Autumn began to cry as Riley bent and kissed her neck. “I’ve always been partial to you, Autumn,” he said. “Don’t you fuss at me now,” he warned, and she felt his free hand leave her waist and slide upward. She began to struggle as she felt him begin to run his hand over her chest, then over her stomach, and back up to settle on her bosom.

“Don’t you cry, Autumn…and don’t you dare scream,” he threatened. “And if you tell anybody about what we’ve been sharin’ here…if you tell anybody how much you want me to touch you like this…and how, if the truth be known, you’d be willin’ to let me do anything I want to ya…then I’ll see to it that somebody in your family gets hurt, sweetheart. I mean it. Don’t you say a word to that arrogant daddy of yours. One word, Autumn—just one—and somebody you love will pay for your stupidity. Now…do you understand me?”

Autumn sobbed, even though no sound could escape her mouth, for Riley’s hand was pressed so firmly against it she was sure her teeth had cut the inside of her lips.

“You used to like me, Autumn,” Riley said then. “Remember? When we were kids? We used to play out in the schoolyard. Do you remember that?”

But Autumn could only cry—afraid that she might vomit because of the nausea his touch was causing to writhe in her stomach.

“But now…somewhere along the way, you stopped playin’ with me,” he continued. “Well, I ain’t ready to stop playin’ with you, Autumn Lake. You get that?”

He pressed his body harder against her own, even though she would’ve thought it was impossible. The sensation was vile, and all she could do was to pray for escape. All she could think about was Gentry and how angry he would be—how disgusted—if he knew what Riley was doing to her now.

“Autumn?” It was her mother’s voice. Vaden was calling from the boardwalk in front of the store. “Autumn?”

“Remember, darlin’…not a word,” Riley said. “Not one whisper.” He removed his hand from her face and crushed his mouth to hers, forcing her lips to part as he inflicted the most depraved, intrusive, vulgar, blasphemous kiss upon her.

She felt her stomach begin to heave with disgust and revulsion—heard her mother call her name again—and when Riley finally released her, growling, “Not a word, Autumn,” she ran from him—ran toward the back of the general store, to the old burn barrel her Uncle Dan kept there. And that was where she deposited the contents of her stomach, spitting and sobbing until she at last caught her breath.

She hurried to the rain barrel, washing her face and rinsing her mouth, as her mind frantically searched for some explanation she could give her parents for her appearance. And what of Gentry? She was ruined for him now! Riley had forced her into being the recipient of his vile kiss and made her a liar for necessity’s sake.

“Autumn?” her mother called as she rounded the corner to the back of the house. “Darling!” she exclaimed upon seeing Autumn’s condition. “What happened? Are you all right? Sweetie! What happened?”

“I-I think it was that wind-fell apple I ate before we came to town,” Autumn lied as tears streamed over her face. “I was so sick…so suddenly…and so sick, Mama,” she wept. “B-but I’m feeling much better now. Really. It’s passin’ now.”

“Oh, honey…are you sure?” her mother asked.

Autumn nodded. But as her father rounded the corner as well, she wasn’t so certain she could carry the charade far enough to sneak past her father’s uncanny intuition.

“You all right, baby girl?” Ransom asked.

Autumn nodded, forced a smile—forced her tears to stop, though she didn’t know how she managed it. “Yes, Daddy,” she lied. She hated lying to him, but she wouldn’t see anyone hurt on her account. “I just…I think I had a bad apple this mornin’ or somethin’…but I’m feelin’ better now already.”

Ransom’s eyes narrowed as he studied his daughter. She was lying to him. For the first time in her life, she was lying to him. Yet something told him not to press her—not yet.

Rubbing his whiskery chin with one hand, he said, “Well, let’s get you on home so you can rest.”

But Autumn’s reaction further assured him that all was not as it should be, for she turned to him, an expression of pure desperation apparent on her pretty face, and begged, “Oh, not yet, Daddy! Not yet. G-give me a minute to freshen up a bit…to feel a little better before I let…before we head home. Mama can stay with me just for a few minutes, and then I’ll be fine. Y-you just keep Gentry in the store a little longer…and I’ll be fine.”

“Autumn…” Ransom began. But he paused when he saw the pleading—the desperate pleading in her eyes. His little girl didn’t want Gentry James to see her all red-eyed and ruffled. Oh, there was more to it—he knew there was—but he’d bide his time a while. She’d tell him when she was ready. And yet a vision of Riley Wimber suddenly entered his mind—caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up—and he had to press, “Honey…is there anything else?”

But Autumn shook her head, brushed a residual tear from the corner of her eye, and said, “Just a little tummy-ache lingerin’ from a wind-fall I ate before we came, Daddy. I’ll be fine. Just give me a few minutes, all right?”

Ransom’s eyes narrowed. He glanced to Vaden and could see that his wife wasn’t any more convinced than he was that all that was wrong with their daughter was a stomachache. But their silent understanding of one another was there—just as it always was. Vaden agreed with him. They shouldn’t press Autumn—not yet.

“All right, then, sweet pea,” Ransom said, relenting. “You and your mama just holler when you’re feelin’ better. Me and Gentry will visit a while longer with your Uncle Dan and Aunt Myra. But let’s not leave too late. Tonight’s the harvest moon, my girls. We got somewhere to be later, now don’t we?”

Autumn nodded and forced a smile. With one final glance of reassurance from Vaden, Ransom exhaled a heavy sigh and strode away.

“Are you thinking on that mess with Riley Wimber, baby girl?” Vaden asked once Ransom was out of earshot. “I wondered if coming to town today might bring those memories back a little stronger than they have been in a while.”

“I’m fine, Mama,” Autumn lied, somehow forcing an amused giggle. “I just had a bad wind-fall, I think.” Smiling and smoothing the folds of her apron skirt, she asked, “Do I look all right yet?”

Vaden smiled halfheartedly, and Autumn knew her mother still wasn’t convinced she’d only eaten a sour apple. “Give it a few more minutes, darling,” Vaden answered, however. “And why don’t you just unpin your hair and braid it? I think Gentry likes it that way.”

Autumn’s smile broadened, and she was surprised at how much better she did feel at the thought of Gentry’s preferring her hair down and braided. “Do you really think so, Mama?” she asked—and not just in an attempt to distract her mother from pressing her about what the matter was. She really wanted to know if her mother thought Gentry liked her hair braided.

Vaden nodded. “Oh, yes! I’ve noticed the way his expression softens…how he gets all calf-eyed when you take your hair down in the evenings and begin to braid it.”

Autumn blushed. “Mother, what a thing to say! Gentry James has never been calf-eyed in his life, I’m sure!”

“Oh, I’m sure he has been,” Vaden argued, however, “because I’ve seen it.”

Autumn sighed as a tiny caress of comfort began to warm her heart a bit. Her mother was so beautiful—so understanding and precious to her. She knew dang well that neither of her parents believed her windfallen apple story, but she admired and loved them all the more for not pressing her when she could not have handled being pressed. The time would come when she could confide in them about Riley Wimber, his terrorization and molestations of her. But she needed time, for she did not doubt that Riley would follow through with his threats to harm someone she loved.

“Now, why don’t you splash a little more water on your face?” Vaden suggested. “And here.” Reaching into her own apron pocket, she removed a small peppermint coin candy. “Suck on this a minute,” she said, offering the piece of candy to Autumn. “We wouldn’t want Gentry moving in to steal a kiss and knowing you’d been ill, now would we?”