Miranda And The Ranch Hand (Domestic Discipline Romance) (9 page)

The wedding date was set for a month later, just before the fall round up and sale. Other than adding a few of his fellow Rangers to the guest list, Dylan pretty much steered clear of the wedding planning. He and Miranda’s brothers were perfectly happy staying as far away from the wedding fuss as possible. Miranda and Jenna were having the time of their lives planning the event, and that was just fine with the men. They figured their contribution to the process was building Miranda and Dylan’s new home. So after the chores of the day and supper they’d head out to the meadow and work a couple of hours on the house.

However, Miranda wasn’t content just to focus on her wedding and her new home. She really wanted the clinic ready to open when all the area ranchers came to the Double-R for the wedding. So when the men headed out each evening to work on the house, she headed over to the clinic—she didn’t even think of it as a barn anymore—it really looked like the animal clinics she’d worked in at Cornell.

As she looked around one evening about a week before the wedding, she realized it was ready. She could start bringing animals and livestock here to treat. All she needed to do was hang the big sign she’d had painted in town.

“Animal Care and Convalescence; Miranda Wrightman, Veterinarian in Residence”

Miranda looked at the sign and realized it was the first time she’d seen her new name in print. She liked the look of it—it gave her warm tingle inside.

Marcus had said he’d get a couple of the hands to hang the sign, but Miranda knew they were busy getting ready for the fall round-up to take the longhorns to market. She was getting inpatient to see the sign up, and she thought, it wasn’t like her brother had forbid her to do it herself. All she had to do was climb up on the lower roof and then hoist the sign up with some rope. Heck, she could pound in a couple of nails—she didn’t need a ranch hand to do that.

Miranda looped her lasso rope through the iron rings attached to the sign to hang it, and tossed the rope up onto the lower roof. Then she went inside the clinic, climbed up to what used to be the old hayloft and crawled out through the loft door onto the lower roof. It was a little more difficult to walk on the slanted roof than she remembered from her childhood when she would follow David out here. But she managed to get to the edge and grab the rope. She started hoisting the sign up and quickly realized it was a lot heavier than it seemed when she dragged it outside. But slowly she pulled it up. What she didn’t realize was as she pulled the rope, it was fraying from rubbing against the edge of the roof. Just as she was about to grab the rings, the rope snapped. Miranda reached for the rings and managed to catch one before the sign would crash to the ground—but now she was sprawled out on the roof, hanging over the edge holding the heavy sign with no leverage to pull herself or the sign up.

“Miranda Rollins, what in the devil are you doing, girl!”

Miranda had never been so happy to see Howie. “Howie, thank the heavens! Please come help me—my rope broke and if I let go, this sign will hit the ground and split like tinder wood.”

“Don’t move, Miss Mandy—I mean not a muscle! I’ll be right up.” Howie ran into the clinic and climbed out on the roof as fast as he could—it wasn’t the sign he was worried about, it was Miranda’s head he pictured hitting the ground and splitting open.

When he got out onto the roof, Howie grabbed Miranda’s legs and pulled her back from the edge while she stubbornly held on to her sign. They were both breathing heavily.

“Little girl, I ought to tan your hide. What were you thinking coming out onto this roof, and then trying to hang that sign by yourself! You’re plum out of your mind!” Howie scolded.

Miranda blushed at her own foolishness, but that was nothing compared to the bright spots on her cheeks when she heard an angry voice from the ground. “I think, Howie, I can take care of the tanning her hide part!”

“Mandy, look out! You’re too close to the….” Dylan never got the rest of his warning out. Miranda had turned to see who was yelling at her from the ground, and was too close to the edge. She lost her footing and came tumbling down. Fortunately Dylan had already dismounted and moved like lightning to catch her.

“Whew! That was close!” Miranda tried to lighten the mood with a big smile up at Dylan.

“Too damn close,” Dylan snapped.

Seeing that Dylan could find no humor in her current predicament, Miranda started struggling in his arms—trying to get down. Dylan only tightened his hold on her and growled into her ear, “Are you daft, going up there by yourself?”

“You know, Mandy, if you were getting cold feet about the wedding, there’s easier ways to postpone than jumping off a roof and breaking an arm or leg!” David joked. Dylan shot him a fierce glare. “Uhhh, bad timing... Hold on Howie, I’m coming up to help,” David said and quickly headed into the clinic.

Miranda’s temper kicked in, which always led her to say things she shouldn’t. “I wouldn’t have fallen, if you hadn’t startled me with your bellowing. Howie and I were doing just fine until you guy showed up! Now put me down!” she demanded. Howie raised one eyebrow and was about to deny her ‘doing fine’ statement when Marcus cut in, his anger laced with sarcasm.

“Oh you looked like you were doing fine—dangling from the edge of the roof, barely hanging on to that sign which appeared as determined to pull you over the edge as you were to get it up on the roof! I seem to recall telling you I’d have a couple of the hands hang it for you.”

“All right, maybe it was too big a job for one person…”

“Maybe?” Dylan exclaimed, recapturing her attention with his steely gaze.

“I was just trying to help. I know how busy all the hands are now. Besides, it’s not that big a deal,” she insisted. “David and I used to climb up there all the time as kids.”

“Yeah, until the day Dad caught us and blistered my butt for risking my seven-year-old kid sister’s neck by taking her out on this roof. I seem to recall you got your sweet little bottom smacked too for being stupid enough to follow me!” David yelled down from the roof, as he and Howie struggled with the huge sign.

“Well, David, I’d say the first time didn’t take. It looks like she needs a reminder!”

“I’ll leave that in your capable hands, Dylan, just make sure it’s a strong reminder that will keep her standing the next day or so.” Marcus headed into the clinic to go up on the roof and lend a hand.

“Oh, come on guys—give a girl a break! Dylan, please don’t spank me. Can’t you just let me off with a scolding this one time,” she pleaded. But Dylan carried her into the clinic as if he hadn’t heard a word. The grim set of his jaw told her all she needed to know.

“The only break you’re getting young lady is that I won’t bare your backside because we’re not married yet—but I promise you, when you’re my wife, you will always feel the wrath of my hand on your bare butt.”

Miranda was relieved that at least Dylan wasn’t going to use his belt on her like he had the first time he gave her a ‘real’ spanking. He had smacked her a few times with his hand before, but she had to admit, they hadn’t really hurt that much. How much could it hurt over her jeans anyway, she mused as Dylan sat down on her examining table and flipped her over so she was face down, bottom up over his lap.

Marcus, David and Howie were just finishing the first nail and hanging the right side of the sign when they heard a loud SMACK! And a yelp of pain and surprise. They chuckled and Marcus said, “I think it’s safe to say we’re putting Mandy’s future in good hands.” They all laughed at that as the steady rhythm of spanks and howls continued from inside the clinic.

Miranda, however, saw nothing funny about the rising pain and heat on her behind. She couldn’t believe how hard Dylan’s hand was against her backside. She didn’t think anyone could spank harder than her brother Marcus, but Dylan was doing just that, and with her jeans on. She was kicking and crying, and begging him to stop almost immediately.

“I’ll stop when I think you’ve learned your lesson,” Dylan declared, punctuating each word with a hearty swat.

She was sobbing now, her butt absolutely on fire, “Please, Dylan! I can’t—ow! I can’t take any more! I’ll be good—ow! Please stop!” But his hand continued to pepper her sore bottom with unrelenting spanks. He didn’t even break a sweat at the exertion—he just kept spanking until finally all the fight went out of her.

When he stopped, he wouldn’t let her up right away. He rubbed her back and then her very hot bottom. He spoke softly while she continued to cry. “Mandy, I’ve faced some pretty tough desperados in my time, but I swear, nothing scares the life out of me more than when you’re reckless with your safety. I’m warning you right now, I will tan your fanny a rosy red every time you do something risky like you did tonight—especially with no good reason. Dammit, you could have been killed if I hadn’t caught you when you fell!” Dylan shuddered at the thought.

Miranda turned her head to look at the anguish in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Please hold me,” she asked in a very small voice.

Dylan gathered her into his arms. She winced as her stinging bottom hit his hard thighs, but the pain was a small price for the comfort his strong embrace offered. “I love you, cowboy, but you sure do have a hell of a hard down swing!”

“And don’t you forget it!” Dylan smiled for the first time in the last hour and held her even tighter.

Miranda awoke before dawn Saturday morning, with a smile on her face, and what felt like a herd of buffalos stampeding through her stomach. She was getting married today. She looked over at her armoire where her mother’s wedding dress hung—today her wedding dress.

“Oh, Mama, did you feel this nervous the day you wore that beautiful dress? I wish you were here to tell me what to expect this day… and this night.” Miranda knew that’s what she was really nervous about—her wedding night. Every time Dylan touched her, she felt all these sensations in her body, and she was a little afraid of the intensity of those feelings. She had sensed more than once that it took every ounce of control Dylan had to hold their passion in check until they were married.

Of course she knew the biology of what happened between a man and a woman, but that didn’t begin to prepare her for dealing with the emotional upheaval she felt when Dylan was around. She so wanted to show him how much she loved him, but she was afraid of disappointing him with her inexperience.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She trusted Dylan. It would be all right. She decided what she needed was her morning ride to really clear her head and concentrate on the upcoming wedding. She dressed in an old riding skirt and blouse and headed down to the stables while the rest of the house slept.

Dylan had been joining her on her morning rides since she was back on a horse again, after her recovery from the shooting. But she was up earlier than usual this morning, and she almost hoped he wasn’t there. She needed to be alone for a while. When she got to the tack room to get her saddle, she saw a spray of wild flowers—white lace picked from their meadow—and a note.

I figured you’d want to ride alone this morning.

Meet me in front of the preacher at noon.

Love, D

Her nerves melted and her eyes welled up with glistening tears. How could one man be so strong and tough, and yet so tender and romantic? It was going to be a glorious day. She took the note and flowers and then saddled up Windfire and rode off thinking about her life as Mrs. Miranda Wrightman.

At noon the sun was high and warm for late September. There was a light breeze. More than 200 guests were gathered in the gardens out behind the Double-R ranch house. Dylan stood tall above the crowd, not noticing the admiring glances of dozens of young women disappointed that this handsome catch was about to be caught. His rugged good looks weren’t at all uncomfortable in the black suit, white shirt, black tie and new black Stetson. He had a single white rose in his lapel.

He stood next to the preacher waiting for Miranda. He turned to David who was standing up for him and asked for the fifth time if he had the rings. David smiled at the question, which was the only sign of Dylan’s nerves, but before he could reassure the groom, the music started, and there she was.

Miranda walked out onto the back portico on Marcus’s arm to the collective oohs and aaahs of the crowd—there was even a whistle or two. She smiled and Dylan thought his heart would stop. She looked gorgeous! The dress was perfect for her; there was a blush on her high cheekbones and an extra bright sparkle in her eye. Her hair fell down her back, long and loose with the wild flowers Dylan had left her this morning woven through her flowing locks. Her happiness was written across her face for all to read.

She looked up at Marcus, who squeezed her hand and couldn’t smile wide enough to show all his pride in his little sister. There was also just a touch of sadness in his eyes as he thought of literally giving her away to the care of another man. He guessed this was how their father would have felt, if he had been standing there at that moment.

The ceremony was short and then the celebration kicked into high gear. If there was one thing Texans knew how to do right, it was celebrate the special times in their lives. Miranda had an endless supply of energy and high spirits—she wanted to capture every moment of this day and keep it forever. She danced and laughed and was without question the perfect hostess, making sure everyone was having a grand time. Throughout the afternoon Dylan would sneak up behind her and whisk her away to dance or steal a kiss. He managed to be equally attentive to their guests and his new bride.

Finally as dusk turned to dark, the guests began to leave and Miranda suddenly felt the exhaustion of the day. There were only a few close friends left, and she knew Marcus and David would entertain the stragglers—so she said good night and sought out Dylan to tell him she was going upstairs. Marcus and David were sleeping out in the bunkhouse tonight to give them the house to themselves.

Miranda found Dylan with a group of men, some of their neighboring ranchers and a couple of his Ranger buddies, all smoking cigars and talking. She stood back just a moment to look at him—the man who was now her husband. As she watched unobserved, she caught some of their conversation.

“So Dylan, you finally tamed our little wildcat…”

“You better get her with babe quick if you want to keep her that way.” The men all laughed and slapped Dylan on the back.

“Well, we want kids, but…”

“Yeah, barefoot and pregnant—that’s the way to get rid of this notion of hers that she’s going to play animal doctor around here.”

“Wait a minute. She’s not…” Dylan couldn’t get a word in—he was trying to be polite and laugh along, but he was getting angry. He didn’t want to cause a scene, but he was not going to let these men talk down his wife.

“She’s a good kid, but animal tending and healing is a man’s job—and that little spitfire just doesn’t get the message.”

Miranda had heard enough. She turned and ran into the house, tears streaming down her face. Why wasn’t Dylan defending her? Didn’t he want her to open her clinic? Did he really agree with those narrow-minded men? How could she have been so wrong about the man she loved? She felt as if she was going through college all over again—with a man who didn’t respect who and what she was. But this time her heart was caught in the middle—and the hurt cut right through it.

She stumbled upstairs to her room and slammed the door. She threw herself on the bed and sobbed. This was supposed to be their special night, and now it was ruined—her life was ruined. She was married to a man who didn’t believe in her dream.

By the time Dylan came up an hour later, some of the hurt had been replaced by anger, and she was in a fine temper, pacing the room, cursing his name. He knocked softly and went to open the door surprised to find it locked.

“Mrs. Wrightman? I like the sound of that,” he said almost to himself. He knocked again, “Mandy, let me in, honey.”

He jumped back startled at the sound of something crashing into the door and shattering. “When hell freezes over! You can sleep in the barn for all I care. And as of tomorrow, there will be no ‘Mrs. Wrightman’! I’m getting this marriage annulled!”

Dylan was too stunned to speak for a minute. What in the world had happened? “Miranda, what’s wrong, what happened? Open this door, so we can talk.”

“The snake showed his true colors. That’s what’s wrong. Go away!”

Now Dylan was getting angry and frustrated. “Miranda, open this door now, or I swear, I’ll bust it down, and you’ll spend your wedding night with one very sore bottom!”

Miranda sat on the bed, her arms crossed and glared at the door. Should she let him in so she could really give him a piece of her mind? No, he’d overpower her in seconds. But her heart said yes, let him in. While she fought with herself inside, Dylan stood with his arms similarly crossed waiting outside. He didn’t wait long though. He backed up and was about to kick the door in, when Miranda opened it. The momentum of the force he was about to inflict on the door sent him tumbling into the room headfirst, and thump, flat on his face on the floor.

Miranda couldn’t help herself—she started to laugh.

“That will cost you dearly, brat!” He got up and brushed himself off. “Now, just what’s this all about, wife?”

Miranda’s smile faded and tears filled her eyes. “I heard you… out with the guys. You want to keep me locked up in the house—you don’t want me to be a vet. You think I should stay barefoot and pregnant!”

The hurt in her voice was almost more than he could bear. He was across the room in two strides and gathered her into his arms. He said softly, “If you’re going to eavesdrop, you should stay and hear the whole conversation. You obviously left before I told those idiots off.”

Miranda pulled back to look up at him. “You did?”

“Of course I did! I took about as much as I could without causing a scene, and then I told them in no uncertain terms they were all fools if they didn’t come to the best damn animal doctor in the Republic!”

“Oh, Dylan—how could I ever doubt you?”

“My question exactly, young lady! Now, I think it’s time we went to bed.” And with that he swung her up over his shoulder. “There will be no more temper tantrums out of you tonight!” He landed two good stingers to her bottom and then tossed her on the bed.

“Ow! That’s no way to treat your wife on her wedding night!”

“Oh, and I suppose locking your husband out, cursing him and throwing things is appropriate behavior? Just be glad I didn’t decide to give you the real spanking you deserve.”

Dylan undressed quickly and joined her in bed. He slowly removed the chemise and bloomers she still wore, and gazed longingly at her naked body. She blushed from head to toe at the intensity of his look. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Dylan… I…”

“Sh, let me show you pleasure tonight. There will be some pain when I first come into you, but after that, I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”

Miranda couldn’t resist. “Gee, I guess that means no more spankings!”

Dylan laughed. “Not on your life, brat!” Then he took her mouth in a hard, punishing kiss. She returned every bit of his passion. When he moved off her mouth and began feather-light kisses down her body, she thought she would explode. He moved all the way down and then gently inserted his fingers inside her, feeling her wetness welcome him. She shuddered with waves of deep pleasure.

With only a thread of self-control remaining, Dylan entered her and was overcome by the power of his own passion. He kissed her deeply as he thrust through her virginity. She felt a sharp pain, and then was filled with the heat of his release. They moved in rhythm as one, reaching heights of pleasure neither had ever dreamed possible. It was hours before, exhausted by their newfound ardor, they slept, holding each other as close as they could get.

Miranda woke first, noticing the sun was already high in the sky. She moved gently out of Dylan’s arms and turned to look at her sleeping husband. She smiled at the memory of their first night together. Nothing she imagined had prepared her for the explosive passion of their lovemaking. She quietly climbed out of bed, put on a dressing gown and walked to the window. Everything looked different, brighter and more vivid somehow. She supposed she ought to feel some shame or embarrassment at her body’s wild responses to Dylan’s touch, but with the pleasure they both felt last night, she couldn’t believe her feelings were wrong.

Dylan came up behind her and put his arms around her. She leaned back into him. “That was quite a workout last night, Mrs. Wrightman. Are you very sore, honey?” he asked with concern.

“Mm, a little, but it’s nothing a nice hot bath won’t cure, Mr. Wrightman.”

“Coming right up, wife.” Dylan found his pants tossed on the floor and went downstairs to get the tub and hot water. Jenna was fussing in the kitchen and David was drinking coffee.

“By the look on his face, you better fix a big breakfast for those two, Jenna. I’ll bet they’re starving!” David teased.

Dylan winked at Jenna, who blushed as much at his bare chest as the comment, but all he said was, “I’ll never kiss and tell, especially not to Mandy’s big brother!”

He hauled the tub upstairs and brought several bucket-loads of hot water. When the tub was full, he whisked Miranda off her feet and into the tub, and then joined her.

“Dylan!”

“Yes, wife? Don’t you want me to wash your back?”

They laughed and frolicked in the water like a couple of kids, after which Dylan lifted her out, wrapped her in a towel and deposited her back in bed. They made love again. As they lay in each other’s arms, just enjoying the touch of their bodies, they heard a soft knock on the door.

“There’s a tray of food out here, so you don’t faint away of hunger!”

“Thanks, Jenna!” they called out and laughed at the fact that it was well after noon and neither of them had had even the slightest thought of food.

Miranda and Dylan barely had two weeks to get used to married life before he got the word he was needed for an assignment in a small town about a day’s ride from Austin. A gang of robbers had hit the only bank in the town twice, as well as the stagecoach carrying a military payroll. They had shot and killed the sheriff, and now the town was defenseless. Dylan and two other Rangers were going to the town to restore law and order, and stop the gang from terrorizing townsfolk.

“Mandy, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. It’ll probably be at least a week. I wish you’d reconsider and go with your brothers on the round-up.” Dylan put his arm around her, as they walked to the stables, his saddlebags packed and ready to go.