The Marshal's Rebellious Bride (7 page)

She stiffened her spine. “I had my animals to keep
company. Taos and Keno would have been frightened traveling all that way
alone.” She petted the skunk. “But Morgan here doesn’t like to be shut in. He
gets a bit testy. They needed me.”

Taos had blinked several times but remained silent. He
was used to—
didn’t
necessarily approve of—her
little shenanigans, or so he called such things as this. Morgan, however,
appeared to be grinding his teeth to pulp. That reaction enormously pleased
her.

“I need a drink,” he finally growled. “A whole damn
bottle. I’ll see you back at the ranch tomorrow.”

He walked toward a big bay at the hitching rail and
grabbed up the reins. “I’m staying in town tonight. Doing some thinking.”

She smiled, until Taos moved in her direction. The
evening ahead wouldn’t be the warm homecoming she’d hoped for. Well, it might
be “warm”…for her. Darn it all!

Chapter
Three

Whiskey pulled aside the lace curtain covering the
window of her upstairs bedroom. The sun had climbed
half-way
up and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Familiar with
Kansas
summers, she knew it would be hotter than blazes today. There wasn’t even a
trickle of a breeze coming in the open window. Soon it would be miserable up
here. Well, actually, she was miserable already. She was more than frustrated
with her stupid brothers and with that big, gruff lawman. She was beyond
irritated with the ranch situation. And she chose to ignore even thinking about
her misery surrounding the “marriage” notion for now.

As she caught sight of Taos talking to a couple of the
ranch hands near the corral, she stepped away from the window. Automatically,
she reached back to rub her still very tender bottom beneath the long dressing
gown. She’d slept naked on top of the sheets, only donning the gown when she’d
gotten out of bed a few minutes ago. The mere touch of even the soft fabric
against her much abused bottom had been too much to bear last night.

She scowled through the thin curtain at him. First
that rotten scoundrel with a badge—a man she barely knew—had
spanked her on the Opera House’s rooftop. Then Taos had burned her ears all the
way back to the ranch as they rode side-by-side in the rented wagon. A
miserable ride that had been, too, on a recently spanked backside. It had been
like getting spanked all over again. As soon as they’d taken care of her
animals, he’d taken care of her—his words, not hers. Her thoroughly upset
oldest brother had burned her bottom with that blasted razor strop—
that
he rarely used, thank God—kept in the pantry.
“She’d been reckless with her life…She’d
nearly scared him too death…She’d deliberately misled her brothers about her
mode of transportation.”
Those were just a few of the endless stream of
reasons he’d given for punishing her.

With one final rub and a wince, she glanced toward her
britches hanging over the back of the chair near the window.
No,
not today.

She sighed in annoyance. The only choice of clothing
for today was one of the dresses in her wardrobe. Tighter britches wouldn’t be
comfortable for a few days. Not after Morgan’s sound spanking, followed by
Taos’ firm stropping, and finally followed by Keno’s blistering paddling on top
of that. Men! Every darn man in her life seemed to think they needed to take
her over their knee and wallop the blazes out of her poor bottom to make her
see
their
viewpoint, to make her see
the “error of her ways,” or for whatever other dumb reason. Thank goodness she
only had
two
pigheaded brothers!

Opening her wardrobe, she pulled out a black skirt and
a white blouse. She tossed them on the bed, tugged off the nightdress, and put
on a white cotton chemise and gingerly slipped on an underskirt. Wincing at its
brush against her tender backside, she knew her decision about not putting on
pantaloons was right. Maybe not proper, but something she could live with for
now.

Ten minutes later she headed down the stairs,
intending to go to the barn and feed her animals. Each step down made her
flinch. Each flinch made her more disgusted with those rotten men. She started
to mumble some less than kind words under her breath when she froze, aware she
wasn’t alone.

“Sleeping in kind of late, aren’t you?” Morgan taunted
as he walked from the kitchen and spotted her. His expression held one of
disapproval. “Don’t you have chores to do?”

“I’ll get them done. Not that it’s any of
your
concern.” She stopped on the last
step. She really hadn’t wanted to see him today…actually ever again.

He nodded at her attire. “Glad to see you dressing
properly today. Like a lady.”

“Only good choice I could make for today. Thanks to…”
She wished she’d held her tongue.

“Suppose that’s true enough.” A tiny spark of
amusement flitted through his eyes before it quickly disappeared. “Reckon you
had a rough night sleeping. Heard both of your brothers wore your bottom out.
You deserved it.” He turned back toward the kitchen.

Her face flamed at his knowing about her additional
punishments.

Annoyed, she marched after him. “I most certainly did
not
deserve
any
of what was done to me. I had my reasons for…”

He stopped to face her and she nearly plowed right
into him. “I don’t really think you want to be sassy today. Considering some of
us are still pretty damn unhappy with you.”

She sucked in a breath at the fury that flashed now in
his eyes instead of amusement. But she was “unhappy,” too.

“What about
my
feelings? What about
my
being unhappy
with you, with Taos and Keno? Did any of you listen to my side? No.” She
stretched up on tiptoe to glare at him. “No! Each of you was completely blind
to listening to me. You bellowed your anger and then whaled away on my
backside.”

He lowered his head until they were nearly
nose-to-nose. “No
way on God’s green earth could you have
a good enough reason for risking your life like that. No way.”

“I knew what I was doing.” Well, most of the time she
had.

His gaze narrowed and she witnessed the dangerous
gleam in his eye that Taos had warned he got before the big marshal turned
deadly. She eased back, not wanting to be too close in case he decided to grab
her and spank her again.

He followed her. “You
intended
to crash on top of the opera house? You knew for certain
that the basket wouldn’t tip over backward and fall to the street?”

He breathed right down into her face. “You knew for
damn certain you wouldn’t break your scrawny neck?”

“Well…” Dang it all, here he was looking meaner than a
wounded bear and her foolish heart was beating itself near crazy. She tingled
from head to foot in awareness of how much of a man he was.

His eyes darkened. His nostrils flared. Now it was he
who stepped back, and it didn’t seem that he was thinking about warming her
backside. No, he looked dangerous in a whole other way.

He held himself still and snarled, “Enough. I don’t
want to think about any of that again. Best you keep out of my reach for a
while.”

Glad to have space between them and wanting even more,
she darted around him and snatched one of the leftover biscuits on the table by
the window. She had gone to bed with a very sore bottom and an empty stomach.
She was starving.

After a quick bite she asked in irritation, “Have you
moved into the house?” She hated the shivers of interest in him still running
through her.

He moved all too close to her again, like he just
couldn’t keep his distance, and snagged a biscuit, too. “Not yet. I’m still
sleeping in the bunkhouse with the hands.”

He took a large bite and she watched him chew,
fascinated by the movement of his square jaw, intrigued by the small cleft in
his chin. She wanted to touch that cleft. She wanted to touch his beard
stubble. And all of that
was just plain nuts
!

“I have the right, since I own most of the place now.”
He wiped away the crumbs with his
shirt sleeve
.

She bristled and her chest puffed out in fury. “I’m
still so mad about that I could spit nails. My brothers had
no
right—”

“They had every right to sell out to me. Before long
your sister will sell out as well.” He stretched at a kink in his back. “Soon
as we get married I’ll be moving in here, sleeping better.”

The biscuit in her hand crumbled and it fell to the
floor. Her heart raced.
Moving in here.
Sleeping better. Sleeping
with
her.
She felt hot all over at the thought. She pulled her anger closer and snapped,
“We are
not
getting married. I
repeat,
not getting married
.”

“Wrong,” Taos stated in his annoying no-nonsense tone
as he walked into the room behind Morgan. “You’ve got
one
month to arrange all the wedding plans and such that need
arranging. One month.”

Morgan moved aside to allow her brother to join them
in the rapidly shrinking kitchen. The two men were big and if she were more
like her friend Camelia Sanderson, she’d be cowering from their size and their
intimidating expressions.

But she wasn’t like Camelia. She thrust her chin up in
the air. “You can’t make me marry him.”

“What the hell’s wrong with me?” Morgan questioned,
sounding affronted. “I’d make you a damn fine husband.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Her waist-length braid swept back and forth on her back.
“Maybe for some woman not minding that every jackal wanting to make a name for
himself would come around gunning for her husband. For some woman pea-brained
enough to bow down to the idiotic whims of her brothers.”

Taos’ face turned red and she knew she was seriously
pushing him. Before he could
lay
into her, she said,
“I’m tired of worrying myself near to death every time Taos leaves the ranch
for another round of working as a U.S. Marshal. I’ve cried all the tears I ever
want to over a man I loved wearing a badge.”

She swallowed hard as tears threatened. “And I can
take care of myself just like Aunt Mae. Nope, I’m never getting hitched,
especially to a lawman.”

All the huffiness appeared to go out of Taos at her
reminding him of how she worried over him. “Our father has spent years worrying
over his sister and her refusing to get married. I—and Keno—don’t
intend to keep on fretting about you going through life alone.”

He drew in a breath. “In spite of what you think, you
need someone to take care of you.
Someone to share all of
that passion inside you with.
Someone to keep you out of trouble.”

Whiskey saw the way Morgan’s eyes had widened at the
mention of “passion.” That heat building within her grew hotter as well. Which
thoroughly irritated her.

“Don’t be getting any ideas, Marshal Rydell. My
brother is talking about my fondness for animals, my tendency to dote on them.
And now I’ve got this passion inside me for wanting to be a doctor to them.”

She again raised her chin and looked from one man to
another. “It’s something which I fully intend to do. And I intend to start with
tending to the needs of the stock on this ranch.”

“We raise cattle here,” Taos said with a frown.
“Animals who easily outweigh you by seven hundred or more pounds.”

“And I’m planning to start breeding horses here,”
Morgan added with a scowl.

She shrugged. “I know how to doctor them both. Aunt
Mae taught me. And I know how to be careful around them.”

Morgan faced Taos and snapped, “This aunt of yours
sure causes a lot of problems.”

Taos nodded. “So our father has always said. Clearly
she’s been a bad influence on our Whiskey during her year-long stay with her.”

She blew out a deep breath of frustration and stormed
toward the back door. “I’m not going to stand here and argue with you two. My
mind is made up on both things.”

Hesitating at the door, she looked back in Morgan’s
direction. “I’m
not
marrying you.”
Then she focused on Taos. “And I’m going to doctor animals, including the
cattle and horses on this ranch.”

She sped out the door and left the two men to fume,
snarl protests, and curse her stubborn streak to hell and back. It didn’t
bother her a bit. She’d heard it all before.

* * *

Morgan had commiserated with Taos for nearly an hour
about what a handful of trouble his sister was. This time Taos never once
mentioned how “sweet” she was, how “lovable” she could be. Before this latest
incident, both had been traits that he’d talked on and on about to him. Yet as
aggravating as she’d been, Morgan felt a twinge of respect for her. It took
powerful gall to stand up to her stern-faced brother…and to him. A bit of
craziness, too. Still, he admired her spunk. It didn’t mean he would stand for
her doctoring critters that outweighed her by so damn much. No sir. As soon as
they were married, he fully intended on bringing her around to his way of
thinking.