The Marshal's Rebellious Bride (25 page)

He watched Whiskey gape at Brandy. “You hate fish.
You’ve never even touched them before.”

Brandy’s chin shot up in a manner like Whiskey’s.
“I’ve changed.”

She motioned for Tyler to dismount and when he did,
she thrust the reins at Morgan. “This can be part of the chores you two need to
take care of.”

Whiskey was furious with Morgan, puzzled by her
sister, and a little miffed at Tyler for suddenly smiling at Brandy and heading
happily off with her. She reached for the other horse’s reins. “I can take care
of the horses. You can go do whatever damn important chores that couldn’t
wait.”

She huffed. “Or you can go help the princess clean those
nasty fish.”

To her dismay he reached up and swatted her bottom
from where she sat in the saddle. “I’m thinking there is something more
important than evening chores to take care of first.”

She nudged her horse and urged him toward the barn.
The annoyed look in Morgan’s eye didn’t bode well for her. She feared that the
swat had been just a taste of what was to come. Maybe she could lock him out of
the barn. Maybe she should just ride off toward town and spend the night with
Camelia.

She’d no sooner dismounted in the barn than he strode
in behind her with Tyler’s horse. “I’m damn tired of your attitude today,
Angelina.”

“Like I told you before, now that the perfect Brandy
is here you can…” She stopped when he snatched the reins to her horse out of
her hands. She honestly didn’t know why she’d said such a thing.

He turned to lead both horses out to the corral. She
didn’t move a muscle as she watched him turn them loose and then stride in
ground-eating steps back to the barn. A smarter woman would have skipped right
on out of here and gone straight to the house. She’d have settled in beside her
sister and Tyler to clean those fish. She would not be standing here about to
face the devil himself.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she said as he carefully
set the fishing poles he’d brought with him next to one of the stalls. “She
just makes me crazy.”

“Jealousy does not become you, Angelina.” He grabbed
her to him and planted a kiss on her lips that had her shivering all the way to
her toes. They were both breathing hard when he set her away. “It’s not your
sister I want. You need to get that set in your stubborn head.”

“But she’s always dressed so nice, like you like. And
her hair is perfect.” She pulled her drooping braid to the front. “No one…no
boy has ever preferred me to her when she’s around.”

“I’m a
man
,
not a boy, Angelina. Granted I like seeing you in a dress, probably wouldn’t
mind seeing your hair up nice and curly sometime…but it is definitely
not
Brandy I intend to marry.” He held
her gaze; his eyes darkened.

Tears misted her eyes. He was serious. She could feel
it now. He was also still upset with her, or maybe it was more that he’d been
so worried about her going off with his son when there was the threat of Rafe
around. Her independence had been tough for him to handle right now. But he’d
let her go, because if he’d really wanted to, he could have kept them from
going. It was difficult, but she wanted to help him settle down; help him feel
in charge again. A man like him needed it.

“I acted poorly earlier toward Brandy in front of your
son. Like a child, picking at my sister…not acting like an adult.”

She saw him nod, knew that was part of his unhappiness
with her. “I acted poorly again when I insisted on taking Tyler fishing, when I
more or less said you were a sorry father for not going.”

A muscle tensed in his jaw. “I didn’t appreciate being
upbraided about the fish matter or the chores.”

She swallowed hard, pulled up her courage. “Guess you
think I need a bottom burning for misbehaving.”

“Guess so.”

He looked toward the ranch yard. Brandy and Tyler were
at the house; Chase and Taos were probably in town for a while longer. The men
wouldn’t be back for a while either. This was as much privacy as they would
get. “I think we’ll take care of this business right here.”

Usually she’d been punished in the house, in her room,
but there had been a few times when either her father—or Taos after her
father had gone to England—had dealt with her here. She’d been held over
her father’s knee and soundly spanked while he sat on a hay bale. One time Taos
had blasted her bottom with the back of a curry brush. She’d also stood with
hands on a hay bale, her skirt tossed
up,
bottom
bared, and received a licking with her father’s belt here. There were also all
sorts of leather straps and brushes that could be used.

She glanced warily at Morgan. Frustration tightened
his shoulders and etched his handsome face. He needed relief more than she
really needed a spanking. She would give it to him…because she loved him.
Lordy
, being in love sure could be troublesome!

Being in
love?
What the hell! She liked his
kisses, liked the feel of him against her. But she
couldn’t
love him.

Annoyed with her troublesome thoughts and needing to
be distracted from them, she walked to the back of the building and stopped in
front of a hay bale. She heard him following behind her, knew he wondered what
she was up to.

Facing away from him, she unbuttoned her britches and
shoved them down to her knees. As he stiffened behind her, she bent over and
pulled the back of her drawers apart. She flattened her hands on the bale, her
heart racing. She stood
there
bare bottomed and
expectant.

It only took him a minute to decide. She heard the awful
whisper of his belt as it slid from the loops.
Don’t do this! Pull the britches up and…

“Take me over your knee instead,” she said warily,
glancing back at him. He was already doubling the belt. She shivered and she
felt her drawers shift, but she left them alone.

“Not this time.” He moved to her side.

“Morgan I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He held her gaze for a few seconds, appeared
uncertain, and then determined. “Might be so, but you also knew better than to
act so unkindly toward your sister. I could see it in your eyes. But you did
anyway.”

She nodded sadly. “I’ll tell her I’m sorry.”

He stroked a hand over the doubled belt and she
tensed. “Yep, you will.”

“Let’s get these drawers separated again.” He reached
to push the fabric apart again and she sucked in a breath at the touch of his
fingers on her bare skin. “I need to see what I’m doing.”

“You enjoy seeing stripes applied?” she asked testily
and wished she’d kept quiet.

He smoothed the belt over her bottom. “No, ma’am, I
don’t particularly.”

She lowered her head, anxious to be done with this. “I
shouldn’t have said that. But can you just get on with the licking?”

He lifted the belt away. “Reckon so.” He put a hand to
her lower back to keep her in position. “There’ll be no more of this jealous
talk. It’s foolish talk.”

She tensed and knew that first sting was coming. “I’ll
try.”

“You’ll try real hard.”

When the first lash landed, she shot up on her toes
and hissed.

“Settle down, Angelina. I’m not going to do this for
long, but you are going to suffer a mite.”

The belt landed again and again without him saying
another word. He didn’t have to; she understood his frustration with her
behavior toward Brandy…and toward him. She wriggled and danced on her toes,
grunted at the pain. But she didn’t demand that he stop.

“You worried me, being gone so long. I shouldn’t have
let you go to begin with.” He let her feel exactly how worried he’d been. The
crack of the belt on her poor bottom echoed around the barn. But he held to his
word. The thrashing only lasted a few minutes. She still would have difficulty
sitting for supper tonight.

When he was satisfied, he slid the belt back on and let
her stay in place to recover for a minute. Then he eased her drawers closed. “Pull
your britches back up, Angelina.”

She took another few seconds before straightening. “
Uhhh
,” she groaned as the drawers rubbed against her burned
bottom. She didn’t look forward to tugging her britches up. Still, she didn’t
have another choice.

“Get ‘
em
up, darlin’,” he
said huskily.

She almost told him to let her be, not to order her
around. That would have been foolish. He’d probably have no problem pulling off
that belt again or turning her over his knee for a spanking. She sure didn’t
want either of those things to happen. So she pulled up her britches, grimacing
as she did so.

As she faced him again, he was watching her, his eyes
dark and heated. He looked like he wanted to hug her to him, but didn’t dare
it. Oddly, she wasn’t so upset with him now.

He didn’t move closer, but he reached out to thumb a
tear from her cheek. “Do we understand each other now?”

She nodded, didn’t think her words over, and said,
“I’m still ready for Brandy to leave.”

He frowned and she quickly added, “I’ll speak kindly
to her, though, for as long as she’s here.”

“It’s you I’m marrying, Angelina. You I want.”

She almost stepped closer, almost kissed him. But they
heard horses riding into the ranch yard and she didn’t move.

Morgan sighed. “Sounds like we’ve got company.”

Chase and Taos rode toward the barn. “You’d best go
help clean those fish. I’ll see to your horses.”

Chapter
Ten

Morgan took another lap around the kitchen, coffee cup
in hand, stopping to scowl toward the hallway before he headed back toward the
table. “I don’t like pouting. Not at all,” he grumbled, glancing at Chase and
Taos who sat eating the breakfast that Manuel had quickly set out before
fleeing from the kitchen after taking one look at him.

Both men nodded agreement but went right on shoveling
eggs and ham into their mouths.

Tyler looked up from where he was more playing with
his eggs than eating them. “You talking about Whiskey?” he asked cautiously.
“Why’s she pouting? Did you talk mean about her animals again?” Now he sounded
defensive about the woman he’d come to adore in his short time at the ranch.

He couldn’t tell his son that she was probably pouting
about the brief thrashing he’d given her yesterday. That was a private matter,
although both Taos and Chase knew that he and Whiskey had had a “discussion” of
sorts before they’d returned last evening. He figured Brandy had sensed
something unpleasant had gone on between them as well, but she’d not said a
word. Whiskey had eaten her meal standing, making this and that excuse for not
sitting down. Evidently Tyler hadn’t suspected that his father had taken his
belt to her bottom. And he didn’t need to know that. It puzzled him, though,
that she was keeping her distance from him this morning. He’d thought they’d
sorted it all out, that she’d accepted the discipline.

“You’re too thin, son,” he finally said more harshly
than he’d intended. “You need to eat.”

Brandy tilted her chin up in that same defensive way
Whiskey did on occasion. “He’s a growing boy, stretching out. He eats just
fine. He’ll bulk up like you and Chase eventually.”

Surprising everyone, Chase looked over at her and
snapped, “Stay out of it, Ariana.”

She immediately pursed her lips in anger but held back
a response in front of Tyler.

“Thought your name was Brandy?” Tyler questioned as he
cocked his head to study her. He seemed to have completely missed the tension
between them.

Morgan wasn’t certain what was going on with his
brother or why he appeared so annoyed with
Brandy
, but
he was glad the conversation had turned from Whiskey and his frustration with
her.

He started to answer just as light footsteps walking
into the room behind him drew his focus. Whiskey shot him an I’m-still-annoyed-with-you
look, which he returned even if he was glad to see her again. He noted that she
wore a skirt this morning, not a fancy day dress like her sister. Still, it
caught him by surprise.

“That’s my sister’s legal name. Most people call her
Brandy, though.” She walked over and sat next to Tyler and reached to gently
ruffle his hair. “Just as I’m really Angelina but go by Whiskey.”

Tyler beamed at her, absorbing the easy loving she
gave him. It made Morgan feel guilty once more for not having provided another
mother for his son sometime in these last years after his mother had abandoned
them and then died. But he had been so hurt by what she’d done. He just hadn’t
wanted to take another chance with his heart, with his ego, or with his son.
Until Whiskey.
Damn but he loved this frustrating woman.

Just standing here looking at her now made him feel
things he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He wanted to take that braid
apart, thread his fingers through her long strands of silky auburn hair. He
wanted to strip her out of that skirt and blouse and anything else she wore. He
wanted…