Bringing Trouble Home (Lost and Found in Thorndale Book 1)

by Amelia Smarts

  As the pleasure receded, her awareness returned. She looked at the door and saw Heath standing there holding a plate, a shocked expression on his face.

  “Oh my God!” she cried, mortified beyond anything she’d felt before. “How long have you been there?”

  He cleared his throat and coughed. “Long enough.”

  She scrambled out of bed, avoiding his eyes, and hurried to the basin. She washed her hands and her face like she did every evening, trying to figure out how she could recover from something so embarrassing. She’d thought being spanked bare-bottomed over Heath’s knee was the most humiliating think she could endure. Turned out, being caught pleasuring herself after said spanking trumped even that.

  She returned to the bed and sat on the edge. She could not bring herself to look at him.

  Heath handed her a plate of eggs, berries, and bread. “It’s the best I could do in a hurry, but… Well, perhaps I should have taken more time, huh?” His voice sounded hoarse, but there was a teasing note in it.

  She took the plate from him. My god, what must he think of me? she thought to herself. She blinked away tears, determined to regain some semblance of composure. She had cried far too much that day, so she focused on eating, grateful for the distraction.

  ***

  Silently, Heath observed Willow. Watching her pleasure herself had caused heat to roar to life inside of him. His cock strained painfully against his trousers, and it required a great deal of strength not to strip her out of her nightgown and bury his manhood deep inside of her. He wanted to fuck her, hard, just like she seemed to want.

  He wouldn’t have guessed punishment would cause her to summon erotic feelings. Up until that point, he hadn’t even known whether she thought about sex or pleasure. Was it possible that she had the same feelings for him that he had for her?

  Of course, he thought, the truth finally becoming clear to him. It wasn’t only possible, it was likely. She had fully submitted to his punishment, had seemed quite distraught over having disappointed him, and had practically begged him to show that he cared about her.

  He cleared his throat. “Willow, I didn’t know you would, uh… respond, to punishment that way.”

  Her blush seemed to deepen, and she didn’t say anything. He walked to the desk chair, pulled it out, and sat down. “Not that there was anything wrong with you becoming aroused to the point of needing relief. It’s natural.” I would know, he thought to himself, feeling painfully aroused himself at that point.

  She nodded and continued to eat her food, bringing her hand to her mouth slowly and chewing as though in a daze. When she spoke, she said, “The spanking hurt, but I like that during that time I felt like you… cared about me? I felt overpowered and small.”

  He smiled, relieved that she wasn’t trying to deny what had happened and was working to make sense of it. “I do care about you, and you’re not alone in your feelings. I didn’t enjoy punishing you, but I liked feeling like I was teaching you a lesson you needed to learn. Ever since you arrived, I have had to stop myself from ordering you around and teaching you in a very personal way. But it seems that the entire time, that’s exactly what you wanted and needed from me. Does that sound right?”

  “I don’t want to be ordered around, Heath,” she said, a small frown forming. “I’ve always taken care of myself, and I like my independence.”

  “Maybe you do, but your body responded to being helpless and punished. You want me to have authority and to take charge. Perhaps you even misbehaved to see if you could push our friendship in a new direction. You said you were bored. Maybe you were more frustrated than bored?”

  Her eyes widened slightly, as though the truth had dawned on her. “Maybe,” she admitted softly. “I… I wanted more than politeness from you.”

  He nodded, finally understanding the entirety of the reason behind her disobedience. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her, proving exactly how he felt about her, but he figured she’d had quite enough excitement for one day. It would be better for her to sleep on it, and for him to do the same.

  “Are you finished with your snack?” he asked.

  “Yes… sir,” she added, batting her eyelashes at him in a way that was adorable and without guile.

  He smiled. “Alright, sweetheart. I want you to hand me that plate and thank me for your food. Then I want you to thank me for your spanking.”

  Heath watched as she swallowed and her cheeks became even pinker. Slowly, she handed him her plate. “Thanks for the food. I will not thank you for spanking me. It hurt terribly.”

  “You will thank me,” he said, without changing his tone. “I know it’s difficult, but I also know you want to be a good girl and do as I say.”

  She stared at him, her eyes moving back and forth between his. She sighed. “I wouldn’t say it to anyone but you. Thank you for spanking me.”

  He stooped to kiss her on the forehead. “I know you wouldn’t, just like I wouldn’t demand it of anyone else. Now, straight to bed, Trouble. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Willow woke up before dawn and tiptoed to the kitchen. Under the dim glow of a coal-oil lamp, she heated water over the stove. She transferred it by the bucketful to the small washroom, pouring herself a bath. After scrubbing her hair and body clean, she soaked in the water and thought about the events that had transpired the previous day.

  She didn’t feel angry about Heath taking it upon himself to punish her, and her embarrassment over being seen pleasuring herself was already receding. It troubled her that she didn’t feel angry. She felt smitten, like one of those women in town who would swoon all over Heath.

  She stepped out of the bath onto the rug and reached for the towel draped over the full-length mirror. As she dried herself, she observed her nude figure, as if for the first time. She saw herself as Heath would see her. She looked full and ripe, the picture of youth and beauty she had never before acknowledged in herself. As she toweled her breasts, her nipples hardened as much from the thought of Heath as from the coolness in the air.

  Her trim waist served to accentuate her flaring hips, which supported long slender legs. Her skin was naturally tan, her face smooth and blemish-free. She turned and observed her healthy backside in the mirror. Despite the pain of the spanking, not a mark could be seen on either cheek. Her bottom was the same healthy tan color as the rest of her, though slightly lighter in tone due to never having seen the sun.

  She moved the towel to between her legs and rubbed to dry the thatch of hair. She let out a gasp as the material scraped over her clit lightly, bringing to memory the events of the evening before.

  After she’d brushed and braided her hair, she looked at the neatly folded stack of her clean clothes sitting on the stool next to the bath. For the first time, she felt reluctant to don the boyish apparel. She wanted to wear something pretty. She wanted to prolong the feeling of femininity she’d experienced throughout the bath and during her time in front of the mirror.

  As soon as she pulled on her clothes, the feeling disappeared, replaced by her usual attitude of vague defensiveness. The trousers were her armor. They protected her from feeling like a woman and therefore less than a man. From the time she was very young, it had been clear to her that men commanded more respect, simply because they were men. As much as she hated that idea, she’d bought into it by disguising her womanhood as much as possible.

  But perhaps she was missing out on something. Feeling how she had while wrapped in Heath’s arms after the spanking had been wonderful. She’d felt small, safe, and very much a vulnerable woman.

  She became aware of voices on the other side of the door and realized the family was awake and would be wanting breakfast soon. The thought of facing Heath again brought a flush to her face.

  “Willow?” Heath called out as he knocked.

  “Almost done,” she said. “Just have to empty the bath. There’s milk in the cellar and fresh bread if you want to get started on breakfast
.”

  “We’ll be fine. I can even figure out how to make coffee. Take your time.”

  Willow hauled the water outside by the bucketful and dumped it in the garden before she walked into the kitchen.

  “Miss Willow!” Bitty exclaimed upon seeing her.

  “I put some bread and butter on your plate,” Jack said. “I can pour you some coffee if you want.”

  Willow studiously avoided Heath’s eyes and smiled at the children, happy to see them. “Why are you two being so nice to me, huh? What do you want?”

  Jack shrugged. “You weren’t here for a long time, and it was no fun.”

  “Yeah,” Bitty confirmed. “Pa was in an awfully bad mood, and we just had boiled potatoes and grits.”

  “Why did you leave?” Jack asked. “Are you going to leave us for two whole days again?”

  Willow sat on the stool between the children and concentrated very hard on breaking off a piece of bread to eat. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as they waited for an explanation. “I don’t plan on leaving y’all for that long again,” she said quietly.

  “We’ll be good,” Bitty told her. “Then you won’t want to.”

  “No, it’s not that, Bitty. You did nothing wrong. It’s just… I had a very different life before coming here. Sometimes I miss it, but it has nothing to do with you.”

  She looked across the table at Heath, his gaze on her too strong to ignore. He was observing her with a sober, intense look.

  After breakfast, the children scattered, leaving her alone with Heath.

  “Leave the dishes a minute,” he said. “I’d like to talk with you before I go to work. How are you feeling this morning?”

  “I’m fine. You didn’t beat me black and blue.”

  “I know that! I’m asking more about your state of mind.”

  It was uncomfortable to be scrutinized. She found herself wanting to retreat because her feelings were too raw. How could she explain that for the first time, she felt like a woman who desired a man? “My state of mind is fine too. Don’t worry, I’m not going to fawn all over you, if that’s what’s concerning you.”

  “Willow.” His voice was low with warning, causing a flutter in her stomach, but she clenched her jaw and straightened, determined not to lose her composure like she had the evening before.

  “Don’t put your walls up,” he said. “Talk to me.”

  Anger surged through her. It seemed unfair that he should be insisting on her sharing her feelings, when he didn’t seem keen on doing the same. Though he might be fond of her, she was still his hired help and he was her boss, not her beau. She didn’t owe him anything except adherence to his rules.

  “Why do you want me to talk? Haven’t we talked enough?” she asked, her voice conveying anger.

  His brows lifted. “I want to make sure you’re alright.”

  “And I said I’m fine. What else do you want me to say?”

  He leaned back against the counter. “I want you to acknowledge that something has happened between us, I guess.”

  “Fine. Something happened. You spanked me to tears because I disobeyed you and put myself in danger. It won’t happen again.”

  “That wasn’t all that happened yesterday, and you know it.”

  He was obviously referring to how she’d pleasured herself after getting spanked, but she couldn’t think of what to say about it, nor did she want to. She knew what she felt for him was romantic. She also knew that Heath had no intention of remarrying. She stared at the red-checkered pattern of the tablecloth, willing him to leave her alone.

  Instead, he reached out and took her hand in his. The touch sent shudders of pleasure up her arm, and she could barely stifle a gasp.

  “Willow, I feel…” He hesitated, squeezed her hand. “I feel great affection for you. I know attention from a man is new to you, and I don’t want to force you into something you’re uncomfortable with. But I would be honored if you’d permit me to show how much I care about you... In nicer ways than spanking, that is.”

  Willow’s defenses faltered, and her anger evaporated. He wasn’t insisting she speak of her feelings without doing the same. He was forging ahead, saying how he felt, and she once again realized how much she admired him. He continually proved to be a brave man, in ways surprising to her.

  She stared at his hand swallowing hers. Heath was rubbing his calloused thumb in circles around her wrist, coaxing her into that state of softness and vulnerability she’d felt the prior evening.

  “How will you show me affection?” she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

  “A man has his ways. But the lady must welcome it first. My question is, would you welcome it from me?”

  Willow’s mind raced to catch up after hearing him call her a lady. It sounded very much like Heath wanted to court her! It amazed her, not only because she didn’t consider herself marriageable, but also because Heath had told her that first day that he didn’t want to marry again.

  Heath gently squeezed her hand again. “Yes or no, darlin’. That’s all you have to say. I’ll take it from there.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Then, loudly, with a boldness she didn’t feel, she said, “Yes, I want you to show me affection,” and stared straight into his eyes.

  His gaze softened and he smiled. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Brave girl, aren’t you?”

  She smiled back at him, glad that she’d been able to match him in courage.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Heath worked that day with an extra bounce to his step. Knowing Willow returned his feelings gave him great energy and focus. It had been a long time since he’d spent a day of work fueled by his passion for a woman and excitement over where it would lead.

  It was clear to him that she was nervous about entering into a courtship with him. He would have to go slowly and carefully. For all her bravado, she was as innocent as a lamb in the ways of love.

  When he arrived home at the end of the workday, Bitty was sitting on a stool in the middle of the room, a wide smile on her face, and Willow was standing behind her, affixing green and blue ribbons to the little girl’s hair.

  It was a touching sight. For years, Heath had lamented that Bitty’s mother wasn’t around to do those kinds of girlish things with her.

  “Hi, Pa!” Bitty said.

  “Howdy, Bit. What’cha gettin’ all prettied up for?”

  “Miss Willow wanted to do my hair,” she said, bouncing and making it difficult for Willow to tie the final ribbon. But Willow responded in her usual patient way, simply waiting for Bitty to stop moving before returning to her task.

  “Is that right?” He looked at Willow while asking the question. She gave him a shy smile.

  It seemed a strange thing for Willow to want to do, given her manner of dressing herself, and it made him realize she might not be offended if he gifted her a frock, which he’d wanted to do for some time. Maybe she wasn’t as hell-bent on wearing masculine clothes as she’d let on in the beginning.

  Giving her a dress would be one of those actions which would hover dangerously close to being over the line. He wanted to ease her into discovering that she was a beautiful woman who didn’t need to pretend otherwise around him, but he didn’t want to control her.

  Another thought gave him pause. To purchase a dress, he would have to visit Victoria Davis, the gossiping seamstress who thought he was sweet on her, and he worried that doing so would cause her no small amount of speculation about his relationship with Willow.

  He dismissed that concern quickly. It wasn’t in his nature to care about gossip. And though it would be unpleasant having to buy a dress from Victoria’s shop, he hoped that the pleasure of helping Willow feel beautiful would far outweigh the discomfort.

  His mind made up, the next day he took a trip to town. He made a quick stop at the mercantile to buy peppermint sticks for the children. Then he gathered his patience and strode into the bright room of the seamstress’s shop on Main
Street.

  Victoria looked up from her task of sewing an apron. “Well, well,” she said, standing to her feet. Her lips formed into a sly smile. “If it isn’t the hardworking Mr. Wolfe, taking some time away from the pasture.”

  “Good morning, Miss Davis.” He looked around the shop, suddenly struck with how bad an idea it was to visit when there were no other customers. Victoria could easily interpret his unusual visit as being a sign of his interest. It was imperative that he prevent such an idea from forming, if it hadn’t already. “I’m here to buy Willow a nice dress. Might you help me pick one out?”

  The smile remained plastered on Victoria’s face, but it drained from her eyes. The cold depths peered at him. “I’d be happy to,” she said, in a voice that conveyed she was anything but. “Maybe a brown frock, so it doesn’t appear dirty when she sweeps the floor?”

  Heath allowed the comment to slide off him. “I was thinking green.” He looked around and spotted a ribbon that was the color in his mind. He touched it to show her. “That color would look good on her.”

  “Of course,” Victoria responded stiffly. “I think I have something that color in the back. One moment.” She pivoted in a dramatic fashion that caused her full red skirt to balloon with air.

  Heath was itching to leave, feeling out of place and uncomfortable about how Victoria had responded to his request. With any luck, he would be out of there soon, he assured himself.

  The seamstress returned with a green dress and held it out for him. It was made with a shiny satin material and had black lace around the neckline and wrists. He didn’t know much about women’s fashion, but he thought Willow would look good in it.

  “That’s pretty,” Heath said. “I’ll buy it.”

  “Really?” Victoria asked, looking surprised.

  “Yes… Why, is something wrong with it?”

  “Not at all. It’s just a little fancier than I thought you wanted. I had planned only to show you the color and cut, and then find some gingham to perhaps pattern into something more practical for day-to-day wear.”