The Marshal's Rebellious Bride (15 page)

She braced herself just before the strop blazed a
fever over her bottom. This time he didn’t stop to soothe her or tell her how
much he regretted what he was doing. This time he delivered a “lesson” that she
wouldn’t soon forget.

Tears trickled down her face. She sucked in desperate breaths,
sobbed. Her feet danced; it was impossible to remain stoically in place. But she
was determined to take what he gave.

The strop fell wickedly a dozen times, more. She lost
count. All she could think about was how awful it felt. She thought he might
have said a few “I’m sorry” type comments, but she wasn’t sure. She hurt, bad.

Finally, he broke her determination to suffer what
she’d earned. She arched her head back and cried out, “
Ooooohhhh
please.
Stopppp
!
Oooooohhhhh
stop!”

Instead he put a hand to her lower back and held her
in place. “Almost done. I don’t want you to ever try something so foolish
again.”

“I won’t!” she promised in a frantic cry.

He laid down another fiery stripe. “You’ll remember
this lessoning the next time you even think about it.”

“Yes! Oh yes!”

One final lash fell and she wriggled away from it, wildly
kicked back her legs.

“We’re done.” He set the strop down beside her on the
table. “You can stay put until you’re ready to get up.”

Get up! Stop
showing yourself to him!
Yet she
couldn’t find the strength to move. She collapsed on the hard table, gave in to
the wrenching sobs as she adjusted to having had her butt soundly thrashed. It
was over with. The strop wasn’t going to burn her poor bottom any more.

She cried quietly, feeling the stinging pain settle
in. It would be a long night. No, she’d probably feel this stropping for at
least a day or two. Morgan Rydell definitely knew how to give a lesson. She
didn’t want another one anytime soon.

She didn’t know how long she
lie
there, but finally he picked up the strop and carried it back to the pantry.
Then he returned to her side and said gently, “You ready to get up yet?”

Her face flaming in embarrassment, she eased backward
and stood on shaky legs, her back to him. How could she face him?

As she sniffed back tears and wiped at her cheeks, he
reached out and turned her into his arms. He gave her a regret-filled look and
pulled her against him. Her backside burned something awful, pain still making
her grind her teeth, making her fight to hold back more tears. And her breasts
pressed against his muscled chest; her nipples hardened.

She felt him shudder against her and then he
cautiously smoothed a hand over her back. She felt the hardness of his erection,
which made her fully aware that she stood in front of him with her britches and
drawers now hanging around her feet. How humiliating. How improper.

His hard ridge rubbed against her and her body came
alive with more than pain. She tingled all over. She wanted…
What?
This was all so new to her, so
strange.
So wrong.

His breathing quickened, his chest muscles tightened. He
bit out a moan of frustration and he set her away from him. “Go on up to bed.”
His voice was husky and his eyes had darkened.

Confused by her body’s reactions, by his body’s
reactions, she stood there awkwardly. She felt coolness on her lower, unclothed
body. And she felt ashamed of herself for having put him in a position where
he’d felt that he’d had to thrash her.

She lowered her head unable to look at him and
whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“I reckon you want me to say I’m sorry for giving you
a licking,” he said quietly. “Can’t do it. You earned every bit of the
stropping.”

She gave him a nod and bent down to tug up her drawers
and britches, grimacing and groaning at the painful move. She sure didn’t want
to pull them up over her tortured bottom.

He carefully pulled her upright and shook his head.
“I’m thinking you would be better off without them on right now.” Then to her
shock, he bent down on his haunches and tugged off one of her shoes and then
the other. After that he tugged off her britches and drawers.

His face was flaming as bright as hers when he stood
and handed her the bunched up clothing and her shoes. Without a word, he strode
quickly out of the room.

An instant later she hurried as best she could through
the house and up to her room. All the while she walked, she thought about what
had happened. He’d shown little mercy giving her that stropping, although she
suspected he’d held back his strength a bit. And then she’d felt how badly his
body wanted hers. She’d felt a desire she’d never experienced before as well.
Then he’d shown understanding as he’d partially undressed her.

What a strange man. For some crazy reason, her heart
softened toward him.

Until she removed the rest of her
clothes and crawled stomach-down over her bed.
Her butt hurt something terrible. He’d thrashed her
good. No, she wasn’t going to feel more kindly toward him.

Chapter
Six

“Breakfast is ready, Whiskey,” Taos said through the
closed door to her bedroom. “It’s time to quit your pouting.”

She stood in her nightgown by the window of her second
floor bedroom with one hand holding the lacy curtain aside so she could see the
ranch yard. Daylight had already crept up streaking pink and blue across the
sky. The yard was busy with ranch hands heading out of the bunkhouse and
getting their horses ready for the day. Her mule and camel waited in the small
corral next to the stable for her to come feed them. There was a horse in the
stable that had started limping the other day and she needed to check on him.
She had some things she needed to pick up from the general store. But she
didn’t want to see or speak to anyone right now. She didn’t want to do anything
or go anywhere.

Her mood wasn’t the best, but then she hadn’t slept
well. She never slept well on her stomach. Thanks to that big, gruff,
interfering lawman
who
had walloped her soundly last
night, it had been the only way she could sleep. And it had taken a while for
her to even fall asleep.

“Whiskey? Did you hear me?” Her brother sounded
testier this time, like the father substitute he often acted. “It’s time you
came on downstairs.”

Her brother, like her father, didn’t like it when she
took too long to get over whatever punishment she’d received. It really annoyed
her that she couldn’t have time for a good bit of feeling sorry for herself.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she said on a huff,
and then hoped he hadn’t caught her attitude. That never went over well after
being punished either.

“See that you are. And, just so you remember, you
aren’t to leave the ranch today. Maybe not for a couple of days, maybe a week,”
he stated grimly. “I haven’t made up my mind about that.” He walked off, the
floorboards creaking as he headed down the hallway and down the stairs.

She thinned her lips and grumbled about impossible
brothers—impossible men—as she went to get dressed. If she really
wanted to show her independence, she’d ignore his order to go downstairs and
just stay up here.

Considering that her bottom was still more than a bit
sore, she decided against that unwise decision. There was a time for rebellion
and a time to back down. Still, it really irked her that both of her brothers
had come to check on her before they’d retired last night and told her flat out
that she couldn’t go into town anytime soon.

As the nightgown brushed over her tender bottom, she
snapped, “I’d go if I really wanted to!”

If she did, though, she’d better walk to town. Sitting
on the buckboard or riding in the carriage would both be rather unpleasant for
a day or two. She couldn’t even imagine the kind of suffering she would endure
if she went by horseback. Again, thanks to that irritating lawman
who
thought he was going to marry her no matter what she
said.

It took her longer than normal to get dressed and what
really frustrated her was that she’d decided it would be best to wear a skirt
and blouse today. The britches she favored had just been too abrasive against
her abused backside.
A situation for which she planned to
stay mad at Morgan for a good long while.

Taking advantage of her last few minutes of feeling
sorry for herself, she walked slowly toward the back of the house and the
kitchen where she and her brothers ate most of their meals. She should not have
allowed Morgan to pull her off that stage last night and drag her outside.
Sure, if
he
hadn’t, Taos would have.
The difference was that Morgan had been furious and wanted to wallop her there
in the dance hall but she’d been able to talk him into waiting until they got
back to the ranch. Taos would not have waited. He’d have burned her bottom
right there in front of half the town. So she supposed she should be grateful
to Morgan.

She snorted. Hardly! The stern marshal had used that dreaded
strop on her, used it long and hard. No, she wasn’t all that grateful to him.
She didn’t want to speak to him, see him, or even think about him for a spell.
With any luck, he’d already ridden out for the day with some of the ranch
hands. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t have two other irritating men to face
right now. Keno would still be here because he didn’t usually go into town this
early, but he was less irritating than her oldest brother. She knew that Taos
had said something about going into town today to check on the building he’d
just bought. He wouldn’t be gone yet, though. No, he would be waiting to make
sure she came down to breakfast. He would still be in angry big brother mode.

Unfortunately luck wasn’t with her. Morgan hadn’t
left. She was about to walk into the kitchen when she heard his deep voice
saying in a lowered tone, “Rafe…” Then, as if he sensed someone else was
nearby, his tone turned even lower and all she caught was “Chase worried” and
“danger to Tyler.”

That immediately captured her attention.
Chase was his brother.
He’d told her
that on the day of their picnic. And she remembered him telling her Chase was
bringing Tyler here because he thought the boy was in danger. She didn’t like
that notion. Was he in more danger now?

Although her brothers frowned on gossip and
eavesdropping, she strode into the room and asked incredulously, “If you think
your son is such danger, why aren’t you riding to meet up with your brother?”

Morgan jerked around from where he’d been standing by
the table showing a piece of paper—a wire
?—
to
Taos. Anger creased his brow. He shoved the paper into his trouser pocket. “You
were listening in on private business.”

A glance at her brothers seated at the table showed
her their mutual disapproval. Taos’s eyes practically shot fire. She’d had her
bottom almost blistered for eavesdropping in the past. That didn’t concern her
right now. She looked pointedly at Morgan. “It’s not my fault you were talking
private business when I came into the room. Anyway, is your son in more danger
or not?”

Something like fear flickered in his eyes for a second
before he shoved it aside. Still, she noticed that his hands were tight fists
at his side. “It’s
my
business, but
no,” he finally said. “That’s all I’m saying on the subject.”

“If he were my son, I’d be riding hell for leather to
protect him.” She walked closer, unable to accept his response. There was more
going on here than any of them wanted to share with her.

His jaw clenched and unclenched. “I
am
protecting him! He’s with my brother.”
He held her gaze another second. “That is
all
I’m saying.”

When she would have pressed for more of an
explanation, Taos shook his head. “Leave it be, Whiskey,” his tone brooked no
argument. He nodded toward her usual seat at the table. “Sit down and eat some
breakfast.”

Every man in the room knew her bottom would be tender
still and it would be miserable to sit down at the moment. None of them cared.
Eventually she would have to do it, but for now she’d resist as long as
possible.

She glanced out the window behind the table. “I need
to go feed my animals.”

“I already did,” Morgan countered, sitting down at the
side of the table. “I figured you were feeling a bit poorly this morning,
considering. I didn’t think those beasts needed to suffer because of you.”

She caught the knowing looks on her brothers’ faces
and heat crept up her face. “I’m just fine,” she grumbled sourly. “I simply
took a little longer than usual to get around.”

“Do you need a lesson in manners? Thank Morgan for
helping you out,” Taos stated with a look that definitely promised “or else.”

Morgan faced her and appeared to wait for her
response. She wanted to dump what remained of a bowl of scrambled eggs in his
lap, maybe over his head. While part of her knew that she’d deserved a licking,
she wasn’t of the mind to forgive him for burning her butt with that strop.
She’d spent a horrible night trying to sleep.