My Sassy Settler (Willamette Wives Book 2) (2 page)

"Look, I'm sure you aren't bad. Naughty, maybe, but—"

"Who's naughty?"

Anna's head whipped around to see her husband, Richard, standing in the open doorway.

"What?"

"Sweetie, are you feeling okay?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes, why?"

"Do you need spectacles?"

"What? Why would you say that?"

"Because that's not a person you are talking to. It's a pile of hay."

Rolling her eyes, Anna shook her head. "I can see just fine."

Richard stepped closer and put his finger under her chin, lifting her face. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"

"I'm sorry, but did you seriously think I was conversing with a hay stack?"

He shrugged and grinned even more widely. "If not the hay, then who?"

"What?"

He gave her a funny look but repeated, "I asked who you were talking to."

The question made her pause. It was obvious that Agatha was upset, and Anna didn't want to be the one to upset her further. "Um, nobody."

"Annabelle, I definitely heard you talking, and if it wasn't…"

Hearing him use her formal name was not normally a good sign. "Bessie," she practically shouted, jumping a little at the tone of her own voice.

"Our Bessie?"

Anna nodded rather vigorously.

"Our cow was naughty? How?"

"What?" His eyes on hers were making her extremely flustered. "I mean, yes. She tried to knock over the milk pail." Seeing his right eyebrow lift, her pulse quickened. It was obvious he was not buying her story but she couldn't think straight. When the cow shifted in her stall, Anna pointed in her direction.

"See! You try to milk a cow that keeps trying to kick you! I almost spilled the entire pail, and then we wouldn't have enough milk to churn. That would be just awful. I-I know how much you like butter slathered on everything."

"Did it work?"

"What?"

"You are beginning to sound like a parrot, sweetie." His twinkling eyes showed his amusement. "Did instructing our cow not to be naughty encourage Bessie to produce? If so, maybe you could talk to the chickens about—"

"It's not funny!" Anna stomped her foot, her eyes flashing as she stepped back.

Richard reached out and caught her around the waist, pulling her to him. She felt his hand dropping to rub across her backside. "Calm down. I was just teasing. I certainly don't wish to see you kicked by Bess, but I don't appreciate you rolling your eyes, stomping your foot, and yelling at me. Understand?"

The skin of her bottom crawled as he gave her right buttock a squeeze. She had no problem answering this question quickly and with complete honesty. "Yes, sir. I-I didn't mean to yell."

"I don't know what's going on, but something definitely is. You're as jumpy as a grasshopper, and…"

"Have you seen my wife?" Wyatt Wilcox stepped further into the barn, his head swiveling as his eyes scanned the dim interior.

Wishing she'd never even looked towards the hay, Anna felt her insides beginning to churn. Perhaps Agatha hadn't been so far off the mark. Though she couldn't imagine Wyatt thinking so ill of his young bride, Anna's opinion began to change. It didn't help that she'd seen the switch Wyatt was holding. It was all too easy to imagine it flicking against a defenseless, bare bottom.

"Who?" Forget about parrots—she'd obviously become a barn owl. Anna wasn't surprised when Wyatt gave her a funny look.

"Agatha, you know, my wife?"

"Of course I knew who; I meant why would you think she's in the barn?" Anna asked. Realizing she had looked towards the hay, she quickly turned and moved to pick up the milking stool and place it back against the wall.

"I've looked everywhere else," Wyatt said.

"What happened to you?" Richard asked. "Why are you limping?"

Anna turned to see their friend walk a bit further into the barn. While before she'd only seen the switch, she now realized he did seem to be favoring his right leg.

"Chester stepped in a gopher hole and I flew right out of the saddle. He rolled and pinned my leg. It took some doing but I got free."

"Are you okay?" Richard asked.

"Yeah. I'm just glad neither of us broke a leg."

Anna wondered if the gasp she heard had carried to the men who were standing a mere few feet away. She moved towards the hay and quietly made a shushing sound before bending to pick up the milk pail. As her fingers closed around the handle, a large hand covered hers.

"Why are you trembling?" Richard's free hand moved to lift her chin until she had to look into his face. Swallowing hard, she forced herself not to look away.

"I'm not…"

"Yes, Annabelle, you are." He spoke softly, and yet she heard the unmistakable tone of authority in his voice. She wished more than anything that Agatha had found a different hiding place, preferably miles away.

Forcing her gaze to swivel away from the hay, she slid her hand from beneath his and wiped it on her apron. Looking at him, she asked, "Would you switch me if Bessie had kicked over the milk pail?"

"Of course not…"

"Then don't you think it's wrong that he'd switch his wife for breaking a few stupid eggs?"

Richard took her chin again and turned her face to his. "What I think is wrong is that you are obviously upset about something and won't talk to me."

"I'm not—"

"Be very careful, Annabelle. I suggest you remember what happens when you lie to me."

She felt her face begin to heat as she recalled exactly how this man punished her when she was caught telling a little fib, much less an outright lie. Rather than think about how she'd most likely be tumbled over his knees if she continued acting like a fool, she attempted to refocus his attention elsewhere.

"Oh, I think I hear Johnny. Poor thing, he must be scared to wake up all alone." Without waiting for her husband's permission, Anna pulled away for the second time.

"Stop." It was only one word, and yet it had the power to glue her feet to the barn floor.

"But the baby…"

"Is fine," Richard said, moving to her and turning her back to face him again. "Enough of this nonsense. You are obviously hiding something. I assure you that our son is far more comfortable than his mother is going to be unless you tell me what's going on."

Anna attempted to cover the gasp she heard from behind the hay by coughing. It came out as more of a strangled gasp but her husband's eyes flicked to the hay stack and then back to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm just cold and need to tend to your son." She relaxed as he reached to draw her cloak more tightly around her and then ran his hands up and down her arms.

"Have you seen Agatha this morning?"

"What?" Damn it, she had forgotten about Wyatt. "I told you, I haven't seen her!"

"Actually what you've done is waltz around the question," Richard corrected. "You haven't actually answered."

"I don't know how many times I have to say it, I have not
seen
her." She almost groaned when his eyes once more flicked to the hay and then to Wyatt.

Richard shook his head. "Feel free to search the barn, Wyatt. If you find her, it appears that hay bale provides a perfect spot to kneel; skirts up and drawers down. I assure you that the strap on that hook by the door is an excellent choice."

Anna didn't know who gasped more loudly, her or Agatha. All she knew was that her backside was now clenching as well as crawling. She'd grown up with that exact same strap hanging in the barn of her parents' homestead, and was very well acquainted with exactly how it felt descending upon her backside.

"Annabelle, let's leave them to have their discussion." Richard's voice drew her eyes back to him. He was so imposing and almost twice her size and yet she had never once feared him. Sure, she feared that he wasn't about to let her shady answers slide, and she feared her bottom was about to pay the price for her stubbornness and refusal to give him an honest answer, but she didn't fear that he thought she was a bad woman or a horrid wife. She walked to him without hesitation. Richard gently closed the door behind them and took her hand.

"I didn't really lie…" Anna began, only to have her husband interrupt her.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe we've had several discussions about lying by omission."

Sighing, she nodded. When would she learn that she hadn't married a stupid man? More importantly, when would she learn that that same man would never let her get away with any naughtiness? "I'm sorry. I really didn't know what to do. I didn't want to get her into more trouble, and…"

Richard dropped her hand only to encircle her waist, hugging her closer. "Ah, so she is hiding behind the hay?"

"What? I thought you knew!"

"I was pretty sure she was. Anna, I didn't need to see you constantly looking at the hay to know something shady was going on. I've told you before that you can't tell a lie to save your life. Since you didn't seem afraid of whoever was behind the stack, and since I know that if it had been Charity, the two of you would more likely have either been sitting together or have come into the house, it was easy to deduce that it had to be Agatha. Granted, Wyatt's appearance helped reinforce my deduction."

"Why did you tell him… I mean, you told Wyatt to use the strap. He already had a switch, and—"

"No, I offered him the strap for two reasons. First, there was no switch, sweetheart. You just saw a switch because you felt guilty, even if you didn't want to admit it. It was a branch. I'm pretty sure he had been using it as a walking stick. It was definitely not something to use as an implement for discipline. Second, whatever has been going on between them has got to come to a head. Agatha is not the happy bride we both thought she'd be, and Wyatt has become practically useless."

"And you thought that his strapping her would do what exactly?"

Richard looked down at her. "You tell me." When she opened her mouth to do so, he placed a fingertip on her lips. "Don't just blurt out an answer. Give it some serious thought. Think about how you feel when you are struggling. Think about how you feel when you know you've been naughty and then, Anna, think about how you feel after you've been punished and the guilt is gone."

He bent to kiss her forehead. "Think about how you feel knowing that even if I have given you a hot little arse for naughtiness, you know that you are safe and loved. Lastly, think about how you would feel if you lived every day feeling unsure as to whether the man you have vowed to spend the rest of your life with cares enough to give you those other feelings."

Emotions ran through her, along with images of the path their lives had taken from the moment they'd wed. Nodding, she leaned her head against his chest. "I love you, husband."

"I love you, wife."

She pulled on the latch and pushed open the door. After removing her cloak and hanging it on its hook, she hurried into their bedroom and to her son's cradle. Johnny was kicking his chubby legs in the air. The sight of the baby had her heart filling with love. Scooping him up, she gave him a kiss. Richard might give her a spanking, but he'd also given her the most precious gift of all. Their son was a beautiful, healthy baby boy who never ceased to make her marvel at the miracle of life.

Anna quickly changed him and pulled the small quilt from the cradle. It always made her smile as she remembered making it with Charity's and Harriet's help as they'd sewed around the campfire during the last month of their long trek along the Oregon Trail. Tucking the quilt around her son, she unbuttoned her shirtwaist and guided him to her breast. She sighed with contentment as he began to suckle. Another sigh escaped her when she felt Richard's palm cup her cheek.

"I love watching you feed him." He bent to drop a kiss on top of her red curls before repeating the gesture on his son's downy brown hair.

"I'm the luckiest woman on earth. I have two men who make me feel loved and so very blessed."

"We are the lucky ones." His smile warmed her even more than the flames from the hearth. "That doesn't mean we're through with our discussion."

Anna couldn't help the flutter that began in her stomach and moved quickly south. She was squirming on her chair in a combination of dread at the spanking she knew was coming and anticipation of the intense pleasure she always experienced under his touch. She might have lessons still to learn and many discussions to be held, but she did know one thing for sure; it was far better to suffer a bit of burn on her bottom than to chance losing the burning love she had for her husband.

"I know," she said, looking up and giving him a smile. "But since I didn't really
see
her, it wasn't really a lie, so maybe it can be just a little spanking?"

He grinned and ruffled her hair. "You are incorrigible, my dear." He kissed her again before straightening up. "I'll get the rest of the milk from the cellar and pour it up so that the cream has time to rise."

He was at the door when she heard him chuckle. She couldn't think of anything remotely funny about going down into the cold, dark root cellar to retrieve the rest of the milk she'd need to churn.

"Um, what's funny?"

"I was just wondering why you assumed you'd be getting a spanking. I'd say that some little girl is feeling a trifle guilty?"

She felt her face heat and realized that
she
had been the one to mention spanking. He hadn't once mentioned any specific punishment. When he chuckled again, she squirmed, causing Johnny to lose his grip on her breast. Shifting him to the other side, she looked again towards the door only to discover her husband had left. He was the incorrigible one. Now she had no idea what exactly he was planning to do, and finally understood how it felt to want a clear answer and be given only vague responses. The man could make a lesson out of anything!

Capturing her son's tiny hand, she smiled as his small fingers wrapped around her thumb. Bending down, she kissed the crown of Johnny's head. Yes, she was the lucky one. Holding her baby's hand or feeling her husband's hands on her always made her feel loved.