The Visions of Ransom Lake (17 page)

Vaden looked to see him standing before her, his shirt and trousers dripping with pumpkin mush, laughing boisterously, as if the situation were the first humorous thing he’d seen in his entire life. The pure joy of amusement evident in his gray eyes and smile was wonderful, and Vaden could not help but smile with him. He was all the more handsome when a relaxed, amused expression owned his face, even than he was with the nearly perpetual frown he usually wore.

He bent over, laughing so hard he put his hands on his knees as he sighed to try to stop the laughter. “Look at you!” he gasped. “Just sittin’ there. Sittin’ there as if sittin’ in a mess of rotten squash was the most natural thing in the world. And look at me.” He laughed for a moment before he was able to get his breath again, and Vaden began to laugh with him, for the sound of his laughter was instantly contagious. Then, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling a long sigh, he wiped the moisture from his eyes and held a slimy orange covered hand out to her. “Come along, girl. We’ll run on down to the creek and rinse off a bit before ya go home.”

Vaden was uncertain how to react. Ransom Lake, standing before her, his hand outstretched in an offering for her to take it? He wiggled his fingers and nodded, indicating she should take the hand offered her. So, tentatively, she reached up, placing her own hand in his. Immediately she was pulled with such a great strength that she nearly fell headlong into him again before she was stable on her own feet once more.

“
Here now,” he began, turning from her but still holding her hand as he led her through the pumpkin patch, “we’ll go out the other way here instead of back to the road. The creek is closer that way, and anyhow, we won’t have to go trampin’ through all the pumpkin pickers.”

I’m holding hands with Ransom Lake
, Vaden thought. And the thought, though perhaps a little dramatic, astounded her. His hand, one of the same that had held her, caressed her so perfectly, was warm and strong, and led her with confidence. It was a little disheartening when they reached the edge of the patch and he dropped her hand casually. A chuckle still rose in his throat every now and again as Vaden followed him in silence toward the brook. When they reached the cold, refreshing water, she gasped when he led her to exactly the spot that she favored. She watched as he hunkered down beside the stream beneath her maple and began vigorously rubbing his hands together in the water. Ransom Lake looked up at her, smiling, and Vaden felt as if she might faint at the pure splendor of his smile.

“
Go on,” he instructed, nodding his head toward the water. “Rinse that sticky stuff off.” Vaden knelt on the brook’s bank, not worried about the soil that might stain her skirt, for the backside was already orange forever from the pumpkin.

As she slipped her hands into the water, frigid with autumn, she looked to Ransom Lake when he stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. Quickly she looked back to the water and began rubbing her hands together all the more furiously as out of the corner of her eye she saw his shirt land in a pile on the ground next to her.

Chuckling, he offered, “Here’s your chance, Miss Vaden Valmont. A few of them curiosities that have been bouncin’ around in that head of yours are about to be satisfied.” Then he hunkered down next to her, picked up the shirt, and doused it with water. “First of all,” he began as he wrung the article of clothing out, “I tear the sleeves off my shirts ’cause they bother me—always getting’ caught on somethin’ while you’re workin’ if ya don’t roll them up. And if ya do roll them up, they’re always comin’ unrolled and givin’ ya irritation.” Still Vaden did not look at him, although she inwardly gasped at his knowing she had considered the reason for his sleevelessness for some time. “Next,” he continued as he took the wet shirt and used it to rinse the pumpkin mess from his chest and stomach, “I don’t wear flannels because they itch me. I always hated them, and now that I’m grown up, nobody can force me to wear them…so I don’t.”

“
That’s very interesting, Mr. Lake,” Vaden commented sarcastically. “But I have no idea why you think you need to explain to me the reason for—”

“
Next,” he interrupted, “and I’m not goin’ to show ya my underdrawers, Miss Vaden…’cause a man has to have some privacy…”

Vaden gasped audibly and stood up, staring at him, her mouth gaping open in stunned horror at his impropriety in conversation.

But Ransom Lake stood too, reached out, and unexpectedly took her hand, placing it palm down on his stomach.

“
Like I was sayin’…next,” and he slid her hand upward over his chest to his shoulder before letting it go, Vaden snatching it away quickly, “
that’s
how it feels to touch me.” He quirked an eyebrow and lowered his voice. “I mean, it’s a different touch than the one the other night. This is how it feels to touch my bare skin.” Then, taking hold of her wrist tightly, he pulled her body against his abruptly. She couldn’t breathe as he held her firmly against him with one arm. “Kind of interestin’, don’t ya think?” he mumbled, a sly grin spreading across his magnificent features.

Vaden looked away, her breathing rapid both from the embarrassment of his actions toward her and the ecstatic thrill running through her at the feel of his skin on her palm. “How dare you!” she scolded as she felt the blush rise to her cheeks.

“
Oh, don’t go twistin’ yourself into knots over what’s proper and what’s not, girl,” he told her as he released her and again doused his shirt in the brook. He wrung it tightly and threw it over his shoulder as he grinned at her. “Now, I’d go ahead and walk ya on back to town, Miss Vaden, but the way I’m dressed…or I guess ya might say the way I’m
undressed
on account of you…” He paused to chuckle at Vaden’s astonished expression. “I don’t think folks would understand. And all I need is more things to keep the tongues in town waggin’ about me.”

“
You are completely uncouth…a…an utter brute!” Vaden exclaimed.

“
Well then, talkin’ like that—and I’m not sayin’ you’re wrong about it—but I can only guess you’ve joined the ranks of everyone else in town,” he muttered, his amused grin fading.

“
You know I interpret that as an insult, Mr. Lake,” Vaden scolded. “I just mean that, even though you see me as a child…someone who is forever and always tripping you up in one way or another, it doesn’t mean I don’t hold to certain standards, certain ideas of propriety and respect.”

“
But ya have been wonderin’ about those things. Don’t deny it, girl, ’cause I know different.” He smiled slightly again, the anger at her accusation gone. “Now, run on home and get that curious little mind of yours thinkin’ of something else that’ll give ya reason to stare at me with that strange intensity in your eyes next time I’m in the mercantile. Maybe ya could set higher goals to speculate about.” He dropped his voice and leaned toward her saying, “Maybe now ya should start wonderin’ what it feels like to kiss a man when he’s only half dressed or what it will feel like when I touch your skin.” When Vaden’s eyes again widened in horrified astonishment, he chuckled and shook his head as he defended the statement. “I think ya took my meanin’ way too seriously, girl.” He laughed again. “I mean to say…the only skin women ever have showin’ is from the neck up and the wrist down. And, uh,” he lowered his voice again, “seems to me—now ya tell me if I’m rememberin’ this wrong—but it does seem to me that I already know what those parts of ya feel like.”

“
Oh!” Vaden gasped. She felt the blush burning on her cheeks. “Oh!” She was speechless. However, could she respond to him when his flirting was of such a profoundly unspeakable caliber?

He grinned at her once more, studying her for a moment from head to toe. Then, nodding at her, he said, “Good day, Miss Vaden. I’ll see ya at the Halloween social. You’ve convinced me it might be fun after all. Especially if there’s a pumpkin rottin’ anywhere in your path.” Chuckling, he turned and began walking toward his home.

Walking back toward town, Vaden could not keep herself from smiling as she thought back on the conversation she’d had with Ransom Lake on the banks of the brook. Oh, she had acted aghast, and most of her astonishment had been sincere, but his teasing her had sent her heart and mind soaring with delight, for it was obvious indeed she had captured some meager amount of his attentions. How else could he have possibly known all the things she had been wondering about him? How could he have known she had wondered about the sleeves to his shirts, about the feel of his skin? How could he have known unless he had noticed her, taken some paltry measure of interest in her?



That night, Vaden carefully placed several pumpkin seeds into the boot still hidden under her bed. She had picked them up off the ground at the brook bank once Ransom Lake had started home following their incident in the pumpkin patch. Just as she slid the boot back into its hiding place, Yvonne entered their room, yawning as she climbed into her own bed.

“
Well, Vay,” she began. “You were gone for quite awhile this afternoon. Have you anything to confess to me? Any great adventure?”

Yvonne’s sarcasm irritated Vaden, so she dramatically went to the bedroom door and closed it tightly. Then she walked to Yvonne, plopped herself down on the foot of Yvonne’s bed, and announced calmly, “I’ve touched the bare skin of a man’s chest.”

Yvonne gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as it dropped open. Then she began swooning from side to side as if she might faint as she continued to struggle to catch her breath. “Don’t tease me so, Vay! You nearly stopped my heart!”

“
But I’m not teasing, Vonnie. I have done it. I’ve touched a man’s bare—”

“
Don’t say it again! Vay! What are you talking about? Whenever would you have had the chance to—”

“
Today. Ransom Lake sought me out. He truly sought me out, Vonnie,” Vaden whispered delightedly. “He found me in the pumpkin patch and was apologizing to me. I fell into a pile of rotten pumpkins, and he fell with me, so we both were covered in seeds and stringy squash.”

“
Are you telling me that…that you and Ransom Lake…Vaden! Most people at least choose hay to roll around in if they’re going to act so irrationally…so immorally!” Yvonne was pale, and Vaden felt guilty suddenly for worrying her.

“
No, no, no, Vonnie. It was purely an accident. I slipped and, trying to avoid the fall, pulled him down with me.”

“
How then, if this all was so innocent, did you end up touching his…his…”

“
Chest,” Vaden finished. “He helped me up, and we walked to the stream to wash our hands…only his shirt was soaking with pumpkin so he removed it to—”

“
He removed his shirt in your presence?” Vaden now feared Yvonne might truly lose consciousness. She was paler than ever.

“
It was soaked in sticky squash innards, Vonnie. He used the shirt to wash off his chest.”

“
Did he not wear his flannels beneath? Are you telling me the man doesn’t wear flannels?”

“
No, he doesn’t. He says they itch him. Anyway, it was amazing, Vonnie. He said he knew I had been wondering how he…felt…so he took my hand and ran it over his stomach and—”

Yvonne clamped her hands over her ears. “Don’t speak it, Vay! Don’t speak it!”

Vaden did not speak it, for she felt worried at shocking her sister so. Yvonne closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again and dropped her hands from her ears. Then an odd glow captured the depths of Yvonne’s eyes, and she took hold of Vaden’s shoulders. “How did he feel, Vay? Tell me at once! How did he feel? Was it horrid? Was it—”

Vaden smiled. Yvonne was as curious as she was. She imagined every woman was and that sisters were blessed to have each other to share their experience and knowledge with. “He felt…well…his skin was soft. As soft as mine. But his stomach or rather the muscles beneath the skin of his stomach and chest were as solid granite, Yvonne.”

“
Was he warm or cold?”

“
Warm. Very warm.”

“
Was it a pleasant experience or a horrid one?”

“
Well, I suppose it would’ve been marvelously pleasant had I not been so completely unnerved. But, Vonnie, it unsettled me so. However, something deep within me tells my soul that had any other man appeared so scantily clad before me…the effect on me would have been quite different.”

Yvonne nodded emphatically. “Well! I would be worried all the more if it hadn’t. But, Vay…you cannot make a habit of touching men! Especially bare ones.”

Vaden smiled, amused at her sister. Yvonne was as curious as she was, and Vaden knew it. Yet Yvonne was ever the perfect example of a proper lady. “Oh, but Vonnie,” Vaden whispered, “Ransom Lake is no ordinary man. He’s more like…Adonis.”

“
Help us all, Vaden Valmont!” Yvonne scolded. “You’ve got the likes of Jerome Clayton chasing madly after you, and you’re obsessed with this…hermit man.”

Vaden sighed and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Yvonne sighed as well and then smiled softly. “I will admit, Vay…Ransom Lake puts even a handsome man like Jerome to shame.” Taking Vaden’s shoulders once more, she added, “But you mustn’t be touching him in such a manner again, Vay. Do you understand?”

“
I know. I know.” Vaden admitted the knowledge because she did know the impropriety of it from her sister’s point of view.

Yvonne sighed and smiled, convinced her sister understood the seriousness of the situation. “Off to sleep with you, baby sister. Though I doubt it will come easily to you now.”