Rachel unwrapped a tamale. She took a bite and sighed in delight. “Maybe,” she finally said. “Agatha, and your mother, taught me more than my own mother. She and my dad used to fight a lot, and I think—I think she cheated on him.”
“You’re kidding,” he said. When she didn’t answer he said, “I see you’re not. I’m so sorry.”
“There’s a part of me that thinks when Dad died she saw it as a chance to spread her wings, so to speak. Heaven knows she never helped me through my grief. Agatha did that.”
She ate more of her tamale, keeping her mouth full so she didn’t have to speak again.
“Are you afraid you’ll follow in her footsteps?” he asked. “Is that why you’re using something as little as a dinner to cause a fuss?”
Was it? She hated to think he was right, but there might be a lot of truth in his words.
“I have no clue,” she finally said. “Maybe it was my fault we broke apart in the first place. Maybe I’m just not good enough at things.”
“It was both our faults,” he said. “We’re not going to make the same mistake this time, and we’re not going to dwell on what happened before. We’re starting new, and we’re both going to work on it.”
“No secrets from each other,” she said.
“Not a one.” They clinked their soda cups together, and then drank.
“So what’s on tap after dinner?” he asked.
“I thought we would box up Agatha’s clothes,” she said. “I think that’s the best place to start. After we eat we should take stock of them, and then go after boxes at the warehouse. Once that’s done, we can figure out what to do with everything else.”
Her voice broke on the last words and she picked up her plate. She’d already eaten a tamale and a good helping of enchiladas. She didn’t need more, but somehow more food found its way onto her plate.
“I asked Agatha to show me her hidey hole but she didn’t answer,” Rachel said.
“Maybe we should find a spirit board,” he said. “Aunt Agatha, Aunt Agatha, come over, come over.”
“I believe that’s red rover, red rover,” Rachel said with a laugh. “I wonder how we find out about her child. I wonder if my mother would know anything. She sat up straighter. What about some of our neighbors? The old ones from when we were teens. Do you think we could look for a few of them? The Martins? Or maybe the Sweets?”
“I always thought that was a weird name, Sweet,” he said. “If I remember Tony Sweet was anything but sweet.”
After she laughed, Rachel said, “I don’t remember seeing any of them at the service. Do you?”
“No,” he said. “There were a lot of people there. Most of them introduced themselves as teachers who had worked with Agatha. Some of them were her students. And of course there were her domino friends. There were only two or three people there that I didn’t know. What about you?”
“Truthfully, I don’t remember much about the service,” she said. “But there was a register, right? We should look through it and see the names that were there, see if we can find someone who might know something. Did many people send flowers? We should send thank you notes, and maybe ask if they could answer a question or two.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” he asked. “Thanks for the roses. Oh, by the way, do you know anything about Agatha’s baby? Do you think Miss Manners would approve?”
She blew a raspberry at him. “I’ll figure out a way to ask that is not rude. Have you been getting cards?”
“A few,” he said. “And I had Agatha’s mail forwarded to my house, but I’m ashamed to say I’ve just tossed it on the table and not gone through it. Maybe we should.”
“We should,” she said. “There might be something important in there. What about her bills and such? We need to figure that out before we come in one day and the lights are out.”
“I suppose so,” he said. “Should we do the clothes tonight, or should we go to Buffalo Gap and go through the mail and the service register?”
“We’ll leave my car here and take yours,” she said. “Or should we take both?”
“We’ll take mine, and then you’ll be at my mercy. You can spend the night at Buffalo Gap. Do you have to be in town first thing in the morning?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “My staff is getting ready for Mrs. Ping’s final auction this weekend. I’ve farmed most of my work out so I could take care of Agatha’s things.”
“That’s good,” he said. “I have an extra toothbrush. But if we need to stop by the loft to pick up anything else, we can.”
“Some clothes for tomorrow,” she said. “Let me clean up the leftovers and we can be on our way.” She picked up the half-empty container of tamales. “I’ll put these in the fridge.” But she didn’t move. Instead she said, “Dex, I’m sorry for being such a priss earlier.”
“Oh, that’s okay, babe.” He winked at her. “I’m sure I can think of a proper punishment later.”
* * *
Rachel couldn’t believe there were not one, two, but three stacks of mail on the kitchen table at Buffalo Gap.
“You said you’d put it off, but this is more than just putting it off,” Rachel said. “There is no telling what is in here.”
“Then let’s figure it out,” he said. “You take one stack and I’ll take the other and we’ll see who gets done first.”
She opened envelopes as quickly as possible. There were bills inside two, both of them for utilities. But most of them were sympathy cards sent from Agatha’s friends. Rachel didn’t recognize the names, but two of the ladies had happily drawn dominos near their names. There were also four letters from two different charities, where donations had been made in Agatha’s name.
“We need to send out thank you notes,” she said.
“Crap, I should have looked at this stuff sooner,” he said.
Rachel waved a letter at him. “It’s not too late to send out notes. We’re doing fine.” When he didn’t answer she said, “What is it?”
“A letter from Agatha’s attorney, asking me to come to his office on Monday.” He turned the letter over, and then picked up the envelope. “It’s postmarked the day before yesterday. Have you checked your mail today?”
“No,” Rachel said. “Why do you ask?”
“Because this must be about Agatha’s will,” he said. “It wasn’t included in the envelope she left me, and she didn’t mention it in the video she left for us.”
“I’m sure everything will be left to you,” she said. “There is no one else.”
“There is you,” he said.
Rachel shook her head. “She told us to get rid of everything. What else could there be?”
“Property,” he said. “Her house in Amarillo, and she has a cabin in Red River.”
“Both of which will go to you,” she said.
“We’ll see,” he said. “Tomorrow you should check your mail to see if you have a letter, too.”
“I will.” She reached for the letters in the third stack. “I think I’m beating you in the mail department.”
They playfully fought for letters in the third stack, slapping at each other’s hands and pulling things toward their side of the table. Their laughter filled the kitchen, and Rachel felt even worse than she had earlier about her tantrum. She let go of the letters and he fell back in his chair.
“I’ve never known you to give up,” he said.
In response she said, “Where’s the register? I want to check the names on the cards against it and see if something doesn’t match.”
He left the kitchen and came back with it. Rachel made fast work of checking the notes and the register and found four names that had not sent cards, Judy Walton, Hugh Black, Charles Trent, and Farley Went.
“I’m sure Agatha has an address book at her house,” Rachel said. “I’m going to see if these four people are there. Maybe I can find phone numbers.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dex said. “And now, we need to
talk about punishment for your little tantrum earlier.”
“You’re going to spank me?” she asked.
“On the contrary, I won’t.” He leaned back in his chair. “But I want you to describe it to me, tell me how you think a punishment would go. And then you’ll go to bed without any supper, so to speak.”
“You’re cruel,” she said.
“So tell me about the spanking you should get,” he said.
“You’ve never needed instruction before,” she said.
“Don’t push it, Rachel,” he said. “We know why you should be punished, and my punishment for you is to describe it, and then not receive it.”
“Very well, you would take off your belt and spank my ass with it,” she said.
Dex yawned.
“This is what we’re going to do,” he said. “Since you’re not taking me seriously, tomorrow, or maybe the day after, you’ll write a short essay on the spanking. Until then you’ll do without.”
“Which means you’ll do without,” she said.
“True, but I’m curious to see how far you’ll go before you give in and do as I ask,” he said. “How long will you wait, knowing you won’t get the spanking you want so badly?”
Rachel pressed her lips together to hide the smile that came up at his words. They’d played this game before, and he’d always won. He would win again, but she would play it out as long as she could.
Going without a spanking and sex, after she’d enjoyed it so much last night, would be hard, but it would be hard for him, too.
“Well, if I have time I will do as you ask. Maybe.”
They stared at each other, and the tension in the room grew to a level that Rachel thought one spark would start a fire. Oh she’d missed this, the sexual tension that grew between them. She wanted to do it now, find pen and paper and write an essay on what it felt like to be spanked.
Instead she said, “It’s getting late and we have a lot to do tomorrow.” She stood. “Shall we go to bed? Without sex, of course.”
“Of course,” he said. “Until last night it had been years since I’d known anyone except for Rosy Palm and her five sisters. I think another night won’t do me that much harm. What about you? Will your clit survive another night without being pinched? Will your ass cry out for the feel of leather against it?”
“I’ll live,” she said, as if it didn’t matter one way or the other.
“I still sleep on the right side of the bed,” he said.
“Good to know.” Rachel went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Then she stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the bedroom. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. But when she entered the room she found him lying in bed, totally naked. It seemed he was not going to make it easy for her, either.
She went to the left side of the bed and took her place, pulling the covers over herself and keeping her back to him.
“Good night,” she said. “Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
“Willful woman,” he said, and then he chuckled. “I’ll expect my essay soon. Very soon.”
Rachel knew he would, but she wouldn’t confirm his words. She would make him wait for a while—but it would not be easy to do.
Chapter 7
Rachel got up in the middle of the night and wrote the essay, if you could call it that. It was only three paragraphs, written on a piece of paper she’d torn from a notepad she found on the counter near the refrigerator.
On a whim, she’d opened the fridge to see what was inside. The door held various condiments, including jars of jalapenos, which she knew Dex put on a great deal of his food. The bottom shelf was full of beer and cans of sodas. The other two had milk, butter, plastic containers full of what looked to be leftovers, and a large package of candy bars. That made Rachel smile. Dex loved hot food, but he also had a sweet tooth.
His soft snoring drifted out from the bedroom and gave her comfort. She had missed that sound. He liked to snuggle while he slept, and the snoring made his chest move, making her feel safe. After they had drifted apart it had been difficult to get to sleep at night, at first. Finally she’d gotten used to it, although she had not enjoyed it.
She crossed to the back door and opened it as softly as possible. A cold January wind hit her as she stepped onto the back porch. It was strange to see nothing but stars and light from the moon. When Dex had first bought this place they’d spent all their nights here, rather than in her apartment in town. It was so quiet here, and she always knew that’s why Dex called it his little piece of paradise. If things worked out this time, she could see it as hers, too.
Buffalo Gap already held wonderful memories for her. Before, in the summertime, when it was warm, they would sleep under a large tree, making love under the stars. The memory made her shiver with need as she remembered one particular night that had produced an orgasm she had never felt since. But perhaps she could feel it again.
“If you’re trying to sneak out in the middle of the night, you’re going to need your keys.” Dex’s deep, sexy voice made her shiver.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.
“I might sleep like an ox, as Agatha always said, but when my door opens in the middle of the night it does tend to wake me. Why are you leaving?”
“I’m not,” she said. “Maybe I’m thinking of going out and petting one of the bison.”
“I hope your insurance is paid up,” he said. “They’re not house pets, you know.”
“Why don’t you have a dog?” she asked. “Don’t most people who live in the country have pets?”
“I’ve thought about it, but it just hasn’t worked out.” She looked back to where he stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but jeans, his bare chest rising and falling ever so slightly, and making her want to cuddle against him.
Instead of moving toward him she said, “I wrote your essay. It’s on the kitchen table.” She turned her gaze back to the field.
“You gave in too fast.” He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle, cradling her against his chest. “That’s not like you at all. What’s the deal?”
“I was wrong to get upset about the food,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Is that the gist of your essay?” he asked.
“No.” She turned her head and kissed his arm. “You should read it.”
“Because you put so much thought into it,” he said with a laugh. “We haven’t been in bed but about two hours. How long is it?”
“You must be cold,” she answered.
“And you’re evading the question.” He nuzzled her neck.
“It’s short, but does it really matter? I don’t remember you putting a word limit on it.”
“You should work on it more,” he said.
Rachel snorted. It was an unladylike sound, but she had never been above doing things like that. “I’m not much of a writer, as you know. But I am sorry that I acted like a child.”
“Still, I want you to write the essay, about why you need a spanking.”
“And I’ll go without until I do,” she said. “But so will you.”
“Perhaps we can change that part,” he said. “Maybe a good spanking tonight will give you material for the essay.”
“You mean later tonight? Are you going to set a time?”
“I mean right now,” he said.
“But it’s not tonight, it’s morning now,” she said. “Early morning, but still morning. So that means I won’t be spanked until tonight. Perhaps I could include a plea for a reprieve in the essay.”
Not every spanking was a fun thing, Rachel knew that. This one wouldn’t be, and, truthfully, she had been very bad in throwing what was in effect a temper tantrum. That didn’t mean she wanted to face the consequences. He’d spanked her when they were together before; she hadn’t liked it then, and she wouldn’t like it now.
“Maybe you should go into the kitchen and find me a wooden spoon,” he said.
“Maybe we should
go to bed so I can dream about my essay,” she countered.
“Maybe you should do as I say.”
Rachel yawned. “I’m afraid it’s dark in the kitchen and I don’t know how it’s arranged now. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to find what you’re asking for.”
“You should try,” he said. He let go of her and went into the house. He was back moments later with his cell phone in his hand. “I’m going to start the stopwatch. However long it takes you to find the wooden spoon is how many swats you’ll get. For instance if it takes you ten seconds, you’ll get ten swats, and so on.”
“Let me go inside and turn on the light and you can start,” she said. She knew if Carrie had rearranged the kitchen as a woman would, that the spoon would be in a container near the stove, or in a drawer near the stove. Dex’s kitchen was small. That meant it shouldn’t take too long to find it.
“I’m starting it now,” he said. In the light of the moon she watched his finger lower to the screen. “Man, this thing moves fast.” He held up the phone and Rachel saw numbers ticking off at a rapid rate. She hurried into the house and flicked on the kitchen light.
She wheeled toward the stove where a crock stood full of cooking utensils. All of them were metal, or hard plastic. She pulled open the top drawer and moved the contents around. There was no wooden spoon. She began to wonder if Carrie had one in this kitchen, or if she just used the things Dex had in here when she started cooking.
She glanced around, and her gaze lit on the dishwasher. She rushed to it and pulled it open. There were several wooden spoons on the top rack. She picked the larger one, knowing that in spanking a smaller instrument could sometimes cause more pain than a larger one.
Back on the porch she held the spoon out to Dex. He pushed his thumb against the screen.
“Thirty-one seconds,” he said. “I think that’s some sort of a record in an unknown kitchen.”
“Not entirely unknown.” Rachel had put her jeans and one of Dex’s t-shirts that she’d found on the chair when she’d gotten up to write the essay. Even though they hadn’t had sex, both of them had gone to bed naked.
Getting Caught in the Rain Page 8
