Kayla & the Rancher

by Paige Tyler

  landscape of the Wyoming Territory. The sun was just beginning to set, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen a more vivid display of colors. “I would never have thought it would be this beautiful,” she said, almost to herself.

  Beside her, Cord laughed. “So, my letters didn’t do it justice, then? And here I thought I was sounding poetic.”

  She looked at him in confusion. “What?” Then she remembered. Cord and

  Abigail had probably corresponded for weeks, months maybe, before the girl had begun the trek out here. Kayla laughed nervously. “Oh...of course...I

  didn’t mean to imply...”

  Cord reached out and covered her hand with his own. “I was teasing you,

  Abigail,” he said, turning his head to look at her. “It is beautiful, but not as beautiful as you.”

  Kayla caught her breath. His hand on hers was doing funny little things to her pulse, and once again, she couldn’t seem to think clearly. Blushing, she

  looked away. “Th...thank you,” she stammered, and then gave herself a

  mental shake. She had to keep focused on her goal with this guy, or she was going to find herself grinning at him like a lovesick teenager all the time.

  They arrived at his home a little while later. It was a big, two-story house with a porch that went around the entire perimeter. Several hundred feet from the house was an immense barn with several other smaller buildings around it,

  and Kayla could see horses in the adjoining paddock. Cord brought the

  wagon to a stop outside the house and offered his hand to Kayla, helping her down. Taking up her small suitcase, he led her up the steps and into the

  house.

  Inside, it was simply but comfortably furnished. Though she could see why he needed a woman out here. There was nothing soft or feminine about the

  place. No pictures, no curtains, no rugs, not even a throw pillow. Directly opposite the front door was a staircase that led to the second floor. Though Cord said there was dinner waiting for them on the stove, he gave her a quick tour of the house before they ate. Off the entryway, there was a living room to one side and a dining room on the other. Beyond that was the kitchen, where Cord served them hearty bowls of stew and a plate of biscuits. Though the

  food was quite good, Kayla had to concentrate so hard on what she was

  saying that she hardly tasted any of it. Pretending to be Abigail was going to be more difficult than she thought.

  She was relieved when the kitchen door opened. Kayla turned her head to

  see a tall, dark-haired man entering the kitchen. He was older than Cord by several years, and from his clothing, she assumed that he must be one of the ranch hands.

  The man’s blue gaze went from Kayla to Cord. “Sorry, Cord. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said. “I’ll come back later.”

  Cord shook his head and got to his feet. “No, stay. Lucas, this is Abigail Murray.” He looked at Kayla. “Abigail, this is my foreman, Lucas Johnson.

  He’s been my right-hand man around here for years, so if I’m out and there’s anything you need, he’ll take care of it for you.”

  Kayla smiled and held out her hand, which Lucas took in his work-worn one.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

  Lucas dipped his head. “Pleased to meet you, Ma’am.” He looked at Cord. “I have some things to talk to you about, but it’ll keep ‘til morning.”

  Relieved at the interruption, Kayla pushed back her chair and got to her feet.

  “You two talk,” she told Cord. “I’m so exhausted from the trip that I’m half asleep at the table. It was nice meeting you, Lucas.” She smiled at Cord.

  “Good night, Cord.”

  “Abigail,” was all he said, but she could feel his eyes on her as she left the kitchen. As she made her way up the stairs, the men’s voices carried to

  where she stood, and though she’d been taught never to eavesdrop, she

  paused a moment to listen to their conversation.

  “She’ll make a very attractive wife,” Lucas said. “It’s difficult to believe that she’s not already spoken for.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. The men in Boston must be crazy to have let her go.”

  Kayla felt her pulse skip a beat at his words, and for a moment she wondered why her father couldn’t have found a man like this for her to marry instead of that yes-man, Delmont.

  There was a pause before Cord spoke. “So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “McCauley sold his ranch to Dalton Jeffries this afternoon,” Lucas said.

  “Damn,” Cord muttered.

  “Someone cut his fences and made off with almost half his herd last night. His son was watching over them and got pretty beat-up. That was the last straw for him,” Lucas said. “A man can only take so much, you know.”

  Their conversation about the other rancher continued, and since it sounded like Cord was going to be awhile, Kayla decided it was the perfect opportunity to snoop around. Thinking that the most likely place Cord would keep money or anything valuable would be his bedroom, she went there first. She wouldn’t take anything right now, of course. She just thought that it would be good to know where the valuables were kept.

  It was right across the hall from hers, and she’d gotten a quick look at it when Cord had showed her around before. Taking the lantern from the table just

  inside the door, she used a match to light it, and then closed the door behind her.

  Like the other room in the house, Cord’s bedroom was simply furnished.

  Besides the big four-poster bed and nightstands, there was a washstand with a mirror, a low dresser, and a wardrobe, but it was the chest at the foot of the bed that caught her attention.

  Placing the lantern on one of the nightstands, she knelt down beside the

  chest and lifted the lid. Thinking that there had to be something of value inside, she was surprised to find only some blankets, an oily jacket, and two pistols with boxes and boxes of bullets.

  Her brow furrowing, she sat back on her heels and looked around the room.

  That was when she saw it. A metal box underneath the bed. Now, there had

  to be something valuable in there, she thought. Lifting the edge of the quilt, she reached underneath the bed to pull it out. It was heavier than it looked, though, and she needed two hands to do so. With her bottom in the air, she scooted her head and shoulders as far as she could under the bed.

  Which was exactly how Cord found her when he walked into his bedroom.

  Unaware that she had an audience, Kayla grabbed hold of the latches on

  either side of the heavy box and yanked. It scraped along the floor, but didn’t budge much, and she tightened her grip, ready to pull on it again.

  “Just what do you thing you’re doing?”

  At the sound of Cord’s voice, Kayla jumped, thumping her head on the

  underside of the bed. Muttering something unladylike, she reflexively touched her fingers to the back of her head. Darn, but she’d thought Cord would be busy with his foreman at least long enough for her to get a look around.

  Knowing she couldn’t very well stay in this position while he was still standing there, she wiggled out from under the bed.

  Smoothing a stray piece of silky auburn hair back from her face, she met

  Cord’s accusing gaze with one of complete innocence. “Cord!”

  “Abigail,” was all he said.

  She glanced at the bed, and then back at him, nervously smoothing her hair back again. “I...I was just looking for one of my hair pins.”

  “Really?” He folded his arms across his chest. “It looked more like you were snooping to me.”

  She flushed. “Snooping! I most certainly wasn’t snooping. I can’t believe you would even imply such a thing.” She tried to sound as indignant as she could.

  He lifted a brow, but said nothing.

  She bit her lip, and looked away. “Well...maybe I was
snooping a little,” she admitted softly. He’d caught her red-handed, so she would have to try and

  wiggle out of this using her charm, a tactic that had worked many times

  before on the men in New York, especially her father. She turned big green eyes on him. “But I was just trying to find out more about you.”

  He scowled. “By crawling around under my bed.”

  Kayla managed to look suitably embarrassed. “I certainly realize that it looked bad, but I hope you understand that I’m just trying to ensure that you are the wonderful man that you described to me in your letters. After all, you know it’s quite a shock for me. Being out here al alone without my family back in

  Boston and all.” She put on a sad face as she spoke. She’d used this same

  expression often on her father with great results.

  Cord regarded her in silence for a moment, but he didn’t appear to be

  swayed. “Well, I don’t know how they do things in Boston, Abigail, but out in the west, we respect other people’s private property. It’s a guiding principal out here that you’ll have to come to learn.”

  She flushed again, and lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, Cord,” she said quietly, hoping she sounded suitably chastised. “I won’t do it again.”

  His mouth quirked. “Oh, I intend to make sure of that.”

  As he spoke, he reached out to take her arm and led her over to the bed.

  Kayla hung back. “What...what are you doing?”

  But Cord ignored her question. Instead, he sat down on the bed, and in one swift motion, pulled her over his knee. Kayla simply lay there for a moment, too surprised to do more than that. He wouldn’t, she thought in disbelief, then let out a startled “Oh!” as his hand slapped her upturned bottom. Outraged, she struggled, trying to push herself upright, but a strong hand on her back held her in place while he spanked her again. Another followed, and then

  another, each slap harder than the previous one.

  The spanks stung, even through the thick material of her dress, but more than that, it was the embarrassment of being held down across this handsome

  man’s strong thighs with her bottom in the air that made her struggle to free herself.

  “Let me go!” she ordered indignantly, trying to push against him again.

  “Not until you learn some manners,” he replied, lifting his hand to spank her again.

  “What would a hick cowboy like you know about manners, anyway?” she

  demanded, craning her neck to look at him over her shoulder.

  The insult earned her an even harder spank and she cried out in protest.

  “Obviously more than a spoiled city girl like you,” he retorted, bringing his hand down again and again on her poor bottom.

  “Ouch! That hurts!” she whined.

  “It’s supposed to hurt,” he told her, spanking her again. “How else are you going to remember not to snoop around in other people’s things?”

  “Please, Cord,” she pleaded before he could continue with the spanking. “I won’t do it again.” Of course she would, she told herself; she just wouldn’t be foolish enough to get caught next time.

  But her words must have been enough to sway Cord because he let her up.

  Or maybe he had just simply decided that she’d been punished enough. He

  had spanked her at least twenty or twenty-five times, she thought; her bottom was still throbbing even now that she’d stood up. She couldn’t decide if she should say something to him, or just turn and leave the room without another word, but he made the decision for her by holding onto her hand. Her face

  flushed, Kayla looked up at him. In the lantern’s light, his eyes were a rich golden brown, and she felt her pulse quicken. No man had a right to be this handsome, she thought. As she continued to gaze up at him, she realized

  that he no longer seemed angry or upset at her. She didn’t understand how

  that could be after the spanking he’d just delivered.

  “I’m willing to forget about this, Abigail,” he told her sternly. “As long as you promise to behave yourself.”

  Beneath her dress, her bottom felt hot, and she longed to lift her dress and look at his handiwork in the full-length mirror that was in the corner of the room. She had no idea where that desire had even come from. This was

  certainly the first spanking she’d ever gotten, and she was confused by her reaction to it. She was embarrassed certainly, but not nearly as much as she thought she should be. Blushing, she nodded. “I promise,” she said softly.

  He nodded. “Good. Because if you don’t, you’re going to find yourself over my knee again, and next time, the spanking will be much harder than the one you just got.”

  Her pulse quickened and she felt herself blushing even deeper at his words.

  She should be outraged at the idea of getting spanked again, not feel

  breathless at the thought of it. If a man had tried this back in New York, she would have slapped him across the face and told him to go to hell. Had

  coming out west changed her that much, she wondered? Or was it something

  about Cord Holderness?

  Her brow furrowing in thought, Kayla left the room and crossed the hall to her own bedroom. Before the door was even fully closed behind her, she already had her skirt pulled up and was rubbing her sore bottom with her hands.

  Chapter Two

  Cord rode out early the next morning with Lucas to work on some fences that had been cut on the north end of his property. He knew full well that Dalton Jeffries was behind this recent act of vandalism. The man had been trying to get Cord, as well as every other rancher in the valley, to sell their ranches for months. But Cord had no intention of selling, and if he did, he sure as hell wouldn’t sell it to a crooked snake like Jeffries. No one knew why the man was so intent on getting his hands on every ranch in the area, but it was

  obvious that he would stop at nothing to get them.

  Cord’s mouth tightened. In the past that wouldn’t have bothered him; he could take care of himself and his ranch. But now he had Abigail to think about.

  Suddenly, everything was different, especially after hearing what Jeffries’ men had done to McCauley’s son to force the man into selling. In fact, he was

  going into town to talk to the sheriff today. But first, he wanted to check on Abigail.

  As he rode back to the house, his mind turned to thoughts of his mail-order bride. His foreman had actually been the one that had suggested placing the advertisement for a mail-order bride. Cord had mentioned offhandedly to

  Lucas that he was ready to settle down and start a family, but Copper Creek had had few prospects to offer, so his friend had talked him into writing the letter to the company back east. They had sent him background information

  on half a dozen women, but Abigail had stood out. He had begun sending

  letters to her, which she had immediately answered. He liked to think that they had developed a very good friendship over the months that they had

  been writing each other, and he was overjoyed when she had finally arrived.

  She was different than he thought she’d be, though. When he’d first seen her on the stagecoach platform, he hadn’t even been sure if she was his mail-order bride. Abigail had described herself as a rather plain-looking girl, when in fact, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And that episode with her snooping around in his bedroom seemed out of character. But maybe that was just how people acted back in Boston. He sincerely hoped that she had learned her lesson because he’d meant what he’d said about spanking

  that bottom of hers again if she didn’t.

  Abigail had still been asleep when he’d left the house that morning, but when he got back, he found her at one of the corrals admiring the horses. She

  turned as he rode up. She was wearing a light blue dress today, her long

  auburn hair tied back with a ribbon, and Cord thought that she looked even more beauti
ful this morning than she had last night.

  Swinging one long leg over the saddle, he dismounted and led his horse over to where Abigail stood. Still embarrassed about what had transpired between them the previous evening, she gave him a tentative smile as she reached

  out to pet his horse.

  “You certainly get up early around here,” she commented.

  He nodded. “I had to check some fences,” he said. “I usually spend the day out on the ranch, but I have to go into town today. I thought we could stop by the church and talk to the pastor about when we’d like to be married. I’m sure he can be ready in a few days.”

  Kayla’s hand stilled on the horse’s nose and her gaze flew to Cord. “A few days?” she asked in disbelief. Then remembering that she was supposed to

  be his mail-order bride, she laughed nervously. “But I couldn’t possibly be ready in that time. I mean, there are flowers to choose and a menu to be

  decided, and I’ll need a maid of honor, of course.”

  Cord was looking at her as if she were crazy. “Abigail, this isn’t Boston, you know. Weddings are simple things out here,” he told her. “The only flowers you’re likely to find are wildflowers and the food’s usually everyday fare.”