by Maggie Ryan
"Go on."
"Um, you are going to spank me because I threw a tantrum."
"And?"
"I-I ran?"
"Is that a question or a confession?"
She wiggled in discomfort. Her Pa had never made her actually list her transgressions and she was discovering that though she didn't like it, doing so was making her conscious of exactly how horribly she'd behaved.
"What were you supposed to do?" he asked.
"Stand in the corner." Her face heated as she remembered his order for her to get into the corner after she'd splattered every egg she'd gathered onto his shirt. He'd never even moved as one small white oval after another had struck him, breaking to allow bright yellow yolks to ooze down his shirt. "You're going to spank me because instead of obeying you, I ran away and hid."
"Good girl. And why am I going to make sure that your bottom is very well heated after I've spanked you for everything you just confessed?"
"I-I don't know."
"It is one thing to be naughty, Agatha, it is quite another to drag an innocent into that same disobedience. Anna stood right here in this barn and lied—"
"But she didn't really see me." Two quick cracks had her gasping. "Ow! That hurts!"
"Did your Pa let you get away with lying by omission?"
She could practically feel her father's eyes on her, his head shaking and his dark eyes filled with disappointment. "No, sir. I'm sorry. I should have stood up the moment Richard asked Anna who she was talking to. I never should have stayed hidden and let her get into trouble." Agatha paused and turned her head to look over her shoulder. "Is-is she going to get a spanking because of me?"
"That's up to her husband."
"I-I'll tell him that it was my fault. She was only trying to cover for me."
"I'm quite sure Richard is aware of that. The point is for you to learn that such choices have consequences."
"Yes, sir."
"For this last part, tell me why, after I've spanked you for dragging Anna into your naughtiness, I'm going to give you the last part of your spanking," Wyatt went on.
"What?" Four strokes had her squealing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask a question!"
"Then answer mine."
God, why did his hand feel so wonderful one moment and so hard the next? Realizing she was taking too long, she looked inside her heart and soul and found the answer. "You are going to spank me because I have spent so long not trusting that you really loved me. Instead of coming to you and asking for help or just telling you my fears, I've kept silent and caused you so much pain."
"That's almost correct," he said. "The pain you've caused is to yourself, my love. I'm going to make sure that you understand that, even though your backside is going to be uncomfortable, it will be nothing like the pain that tears you apart inside."
She felt the tension she'd been living with begin to dissipate. He rubbed his hand across her bottom for another few moments and then his hand lifted. Bracing herself for the rest of her spanking, she gasped when he lifted her off his lap and stood her onto her feet and then stood as well.
"Oh, um, thank you for spanking me. I-I won't do anything like that again."
Chuckling, he put his fingertips beneath her chin. "That, young lady, was not a spanking."
"But you swatted me!"
"Those little swats were to remind you to be honest with both me and yourself. Darlin', that wasn't even a proper warm-up. By the time I'm done reddening your beautiful ass, you'll understand the difference."
She gaped up at him and her heart caught in her throat. Swallowing hard, she realized that though her backside was a bit tender, she was feeling something quite different. Her tummy felt as if it had been invaded by butterflies and a warmth was spreading throughout her body that had nothing to do with her bum. "Oh, um, are you… you going to use that?" She couldn't say the word but nodded her head in the direction where the strap was hanging.
"No, Aggy. Even as naughty as you've been, you haven't been naughty enough for a razor strap. If you ever are, it will be a strap that I've provided."
Relief flooded through her until he continued.
"But, young lady, I am going to use my hand and your hairbrush."
"But my hairbrush is at home."
"And that's where we're headed. I have no intention of giving you your first real spanking in a drafty barn." She felt her heart stop when he bent down to speak next to her ear. "Remember, after I'm done with the punishment, I'll begin teaching you about the pleasures a good girl receives. For that, I'd much rather be in our soft bed than on a bed of straw, and I'd like to do so without a witness."
She turned her head, expecting to see Richard or Anna but the door remained closed. "Witness?"
Her husband grinned and tilted his head in Bessie's direction. "Yes, those big brown eyes don't seem to miss much." He pulled her closer when she giggled. "I'd prefer to take this to our house, wouldn't you?"
"Yes," she managed, her insides doing somersaults at his words. "I mean, yes, sir."
He chuckled again and turned to lift the hay bale they'd sat on back onto the pile. She watched as he picked up the stick.
"I'm so sorry about your ankle. Don't forget to spank me for that, too."
Laughter rang out to the rafters. "Darling, if anyone deserves a spanking for that it would be Chester. Besides, just knowing that I've finally got my wife back seems to have cured all of my aches." The way he grinned had her face heating. She gasped when he took her hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "Though, my love, you still will need to cure this one."
"Wyatt! That's indecent!"
"Agatha, you'll learn that there is absolutely nothing indecent between a husband and a wife."
"I will?"
"Absolutely. Now, let's go home."
* * * * *
The door to the house opened before they reached it and Richard stepped out. "I wanted to tell you that I'd rather you take the wagon home. It will give Chester a chance to rest."
Agatha blushed hotly, wondering if the conveyance was being offered because Richard thought her ass was too sore to sit on a horse. She hated to think so, but knowing how considerate Richard was, she could understand him making the gesture.
Wyatt seemed not to think a thing of the suggestion. "I guess it's best not to take a chance on his leg."
"Good. If you'll help me hitch the team, you can get on your way," Richard said, and they started towards the barn.
"Wait," Agatha called and the men paused. "Richard, I need to tell you that it's my fault that Anna wasn't answering your questions."
"No, that fault is mine." Anna walked out of the door, a basket in one hand, a fat cushion in the other. "I made the choice, so I accept the consequences."
"I'm still am sorry for involving you." Agatha saw the men entering the barn and turned back to face her friend.
"Now that the men are gone, I can tell you this," Anna said, stepping closer. Agatha braced herself to hear the ugly truth of what Anna really thought of her.
"Women have got to stick together. There aren't too many of us around, and I know that I need friends. I'm hoping that you will become a very close one."
"You-you do?"
"Of course I do. I've wanted nothing more since we met on the wagon train. It was just a bit hard with… well, you know."
Agatha knew only too well. Her stepfather had made it very difficult for her to make friends. "Yes, I do, and I am honored that you'll give me a second chance."
Anna laughed. "Agatha, if we weren't given chance after chance, I fear I'd never sit down again."
This time when she laughed, Agatha joined in. "I'm not sure I'll sit down comfortably any time soon."
"I hope you don't think me crass or rude, but are you really okay?"
Agatha blushed but nodded. "Yes. In fact, I'm more than okay."
Anna smiled. "Again, I hope you don't think wrong of me, but I must say you look beautiful. I don't mean that you weren't b
efore, but I haven't ever seen your eyes glow quite so much. The last time was when I saw you dancing with Wyatt that first time. I told Richard that night that you had both found your other half."
"I did so many things wrong. I-I almost lost him."
"The important thing is that you didn't lose him. The important thing is that you both walked out of that barn more in love than ever."
"You don't think that's odd?"
Light laughter sailed on the wind. "Oh, Agatha, life is odd. The secret is to embrace the oddity and live every moment. Love is the greatest gift of all, and I'm so very, very glad that you are going to learn that fact."
"Seems Wyatt is determined to teach me quite a few things today."
"Oh, good lord, that was so rude of me. I didn't mean to make you think about…"
"No, I just meant that Wyatt is taking me home to um, as he said, redden my ass. He only swatted me in the barn after we talked."
"So he didn't use the strap?" Agatha laughed when Anna attempted to slap her hand over her mouth, finding it filled with a pillow. "God, I've got to learn not to speak without thinking!"
"It's fine. No, he only used his hand but he said he was…"
"You don't have to tell me more," Anna assured her. "Maybe someday when you feel like you can, you can become a member of the Tick-Tock club that Charity and I started."
"Tick-Tock?"
"Yes, we based it on the clock. We spend the first quarter hour commiserating with each other, the next two quarters discussing how lucky we are to have such wonderful husbands who make sure we feel treasured, and the last quarter talking ad nauseam about our children."
Agatha's laughter pealed across the yard. "Sign me up, though it might be quite a while before I can contribute anything to the last quarter hour."
"Believe me, if Wyatt consoles you as much as Richard does me, you'll be a full-fledged member before you know it."
"I can't wait." Agatha looked to where the men were hitching the horses to the wagon and smiled. "Wyatt would make an amazing father. He has so much love to share."
"He does," Anna agreed with a soft smile. "Here, I thought you might like this." She held out the basket. "I made too much for the two of us. Um, I didn't cook the eggs. I figured you could do that while you reheat the honey cakes and bacon."
"That's awfully kind of you. Thank you."
"Just another thing friends do."
"Um, any tips on how to get dried egg yolk out of Wyatt's shirt?"
Anna's eyes widened. "Is that how you broke the eggs?"
"Yes, I, er, threw a tantrum when that stupid rooster chased me around the coop. Wyatt stood there laughing and I, well, I just lost it. I threw every egg I'd collected at him."
"Oh, my, that's… that was pretty naughty."
"You could say that again."
"Try soaking it in cold water for a while before you scrub it," Anna suggested.
"Thanks," Agatha said as the men walked around the wagon towards them.
"Are you ready, honey?" Wyatt asked.
"Yes, and Anna was gracious enough to provide us breakfast." She handed him the basket. "Be careful you don't break the eggs."
"Don't worry, I could just suck on my shirt if I get the hankering for eggs."
She gasped and when his eyebrow lifted, she giggled, and heard Anna giggling as well. Wyatt set the basket down on the wagon seat and put his hands on his wife's waist in preparation of lifting her to sit beside it.
"Wait, what time is it?"
Richard looked up at the sky. "I think it must be going on nine, why?"
Agatha stepped out of her husband's arms, went back to Anna, and pointed to the cushion she was holding.
"I'm thinking that by the time we get home, it will be well into that first quarter hour."
Anna smiled and handed her the cushion without a word.
"Thanks," Agatha said and hugged her hard before running back to Wyatt.
"Ready?"
"Yes, sir. Let's go home."
He grinned and lifted her onto the wagon before climbing up to sit beside her. "I'll have the wagon back early tomorrow. I know the plan is to go into town before the snows start."
"That'll work," Richard said, before joining his wife.
* * * * *
They watched as Agatha laid her head on her husband's shoulder.
"They're going to be just fine, aren't they?" Anna said with a smile.
"I admit I've had a few doubts over the past few weeks, but no longer," Richard said, hugging her to his side. She yelped when his hand slapped against her bum. "Like I've always said, nothing tells a woman she is loved better than a good old-fashioned spanking."
"Richard!"
"Are you telling me you think I'm wrong?"
"No, but it might just ruin your theory to know that he didn't really spank her."
"It won't do for my lovely, yet naughty wife, to believe her husband doesn't know exactly what he is talking about."
Anna felt her stomach flip at the look in his eyes. "So you are going to spank me."
His grin had her drawers moistening and yet he still gave her no answer.
"Richard! You are just being mean!"
He laughed and swatted the back of her skirt. "Into the house, Mrs. Andrews."
Shaking her head, she stepped in front of him and walked towards the door, extremely conscious of the fact that he had a perfect view of his potential target.
Chapter Four
Anna's desire to learn exactly how her husband planned to punish her came true a short time after they'd returned to the house. He'd poured the milk into shallow bowls in order to allow the cream to rise to the top while she'd prepared and they eaten breakfast. As he moved the butter churn from the corner, she began to skim the cream off the milk with a wooden paddle, carefully transferring it to another, larger bowl.
"Where'd you put the cheesecloth?" she asked. "I'll need it to strain off the rest of the milk."
"It's on the shelf."
Spying the cloth, she reached for it. Unfolding it, she paused and turned her head to look at him. "Where did this ginger come from?"
Richard walked towards her, Johnny in his arms as he patted the baby's back. "I brought it up from the cellar."
"Does your stomach hurt?"
"No, I feel fine, but thanks for asking."
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she shook her head. "Well if you don't want tea, why did you have to wrap it in the cloth? Now the butter is going to taste strange." She shook her head as she shook out the cloth before draping it over a third bowl.
"Let me put Johnny down and I'll explain," Richard said. She nodded absently as she carefully began to pour the milk over the cloth. Any remaining cream would be captured and added to the churn. By the time she was done, Richard had returned. As she added the cream to the churn, he poured the milk back into a pail. "I'll put this in the cellar."
"Why don't you put that root back as well? I'm not going to need it to cook supper."
"That stays exactly where it is," Richard said, giving her bottom a swat as he passed by on his way out the door.
"Men," she said, shaking her head as she spooned the last of the cream into the churn. She had just finished washing the bowl and paddle when he came back.
"Go bend over the table," he told her.
"What?"
"I'm getting a little tired of that word, Annabelle. I said to go bend over the table."
"Richard, I just put the cream in. I need to churn it before… Ow!"
"Stop arguing and stop rubbing your backside. Obey me."
Anna hadn't been married but a little over a year, but it had been long enough for her to know when to stop talking. She gave him a wide berth, ignoring his chuckle, as she went to the table. Her face heated as she began to bend over one end.
"Not there. Bend over the side so that you can hold onto the other edge."
Her bottom clenched at his direction. The only time he required her to take that position
was when he was going to give her far more than a mere spanking over his knees. She wanted to ask what he planned but knew that he expected her to simply obey. Moving around the table, she bent over the side. It was the perfect height to support her torso and leave her feet flat on the floor. Despite her growing trepidation, her curiosity had her turning her head to see what exactly he was doing. Her brow furrowed as she watched him using his knife to peel the skin from the root he'd brought up. More questions begged to be asked but she dutifully remained quiet. He'd explain—well, he would if he thought it necessary to do so.
It didn't take long before she saw him step to the basin and use the pitcher to pour some water over the root. She grew more puzzled when it seemed as if he was cutting lines along the flesh, causing a pungent scent to fill the room. After another minute, he washed his knife, slipped it back into its sheath and, walked towards her.
"Lift up your skirts."
She obeyed, tugging her skirt and petticoats up to her waist.
"Let your bloomers fall."
Despite having heard this same order more times than she could remember, her face heated, as it always did when she was made to bare herself. There were only a few additional orders that caused her more embarrassment. Perhaps he could read her mind because the moment her drawers fell to her ankles, he spoke of one.
"Reach back and spread your cheeks wide."
"Please…"
"Anna, you really don't want to question me right now."
With trembling hands, she reached behind her and pulled the globes of her bottom apart.
"Wider. I want your little rose fully exposed."
She whimpered but forced herself to expose herself fully to her husband.
"Open your eyes and look at me." She did so and saw the root in his hand. "Do you know what this is?"
"Yes, it's ginger."
"Do you know what it's used for?"
She bit back the urge to point out that he certainly knew the answer. Having to respond while holding her bottom cheeks open made it a bit easier to answer politely. "You can use it to make tea to help with nausea, or you can add it to certain food to add flavor."
"That's correct, but it also serves another purpose. Have you ever heard of figging?"
