Seeking Justice

by Rita Lawless

  "I'm old enough to make that decision on my own, mother," Justice said. She indicated her future husband. "You remember Zander?"

  "Of course." She hugged him, too. "Since you already have a mother, you can call me Lydia. I always hated my boring name, which is why I gave Justice such a great one. It is a great name, don't you agree?"

  She looked around at the assembled people for agreement. They all nodded.

  "So, about the wedding," her mother said, clapping her hands together. "It's a big affair, right, with lots of flowers and food and dancing."

  Justice cleared her throat. "Actually, it's a small affair here at the house, with a reception featuring food and dancing afterward."

  The look on her mother's face was priceless, a mixture of anger and shock. "But Justice, you need a big wedding, with a huge dress and all the great things that go along with a ceremony. That's what makes it special."

  "We've already decided, mother," Justice said. She looked around at the gathered people. Priscilla was helping Miss Agatha into the house, and Emily was right on their heels. She was sure Ben and Brice were in the kitchen, hiding from what was happening. Soon, the only person here would be Zander, which was perfect.

  "Mother, we've made our decisions," Justice said. "I can't say it any plainer than that."

  "Justice," her mother said, as if Justice were five and refusing to take a bath. "I know how to plan a wedding. After all, I've done a few myself. But this is the only chance I have to be mother of the bride."

  Justice had heard enough. She knew getting angry would only raise her blood pressure and ruin her evening, so she kept her voice low and even.

  "Mother, you can't come in here and think you can take over. I'm not a child, and you've never wanted to make decisions for me before. Why is it any different now? Is it because I'm marrying into a prominent family? Where's your husband, mother? Or has this one left you, too?"

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Justice felt guilty. She always did when it came to talking back to her mother. Daughters were supposed to think their mothers could do no wrong, and support them in whatever they did.

  "Justice," Zander said. He tone was gentle.

  "No," she said, wanting to scream the word. "Mother, the reason I didn't tell you about this in the first place was because I knew you would want to take over. This is something fun, and perfect, and you would want to be here for that. You were never there for me when I was growing up. You dumped me with your parents, who were so bad that you ran away from them the minute you had a chance."

  Her mother's pout had been replaced by a huge scowl. "They never beat you, did they? They fed you, clothed you, and made sure you had a roof over your head. You sound very ungrateful right now."

  Justice supposed she was right. "If that's the way I sound, I'm sorry. But it would have been nice to have a hug once in a while, or a person tell me they loved me, or been there to support me in the spelling bee, or attend the school play."

  There was a long silence, and then her mother said, "Well, I did the best I could. And since you don't want me to be part of the wedding, I guess I'll just leave."

  Lydia's words didn't surprise Justice. "Don't be so melodramatic, mother. I want you at the wedding, but I want you to be there as a guest and not as a party planner."

  That seemed to mollify her a little. Justice touched her mother's arm gently. "Stay for dinner, and we can talk about what Zander and I already have planned. I think you'll agree it's going to be beautiful."

  * * * * *

  The ride home was quiet. Dinner had been interesting, since Lydia had been quiet and moody. Justice had to give her credit that she'd smiled in all the right places, but it was obvious that she wasn't happy about not playing a bigger part in the wedding.

  "It's not over, you know," she said to Zander as he pulled up in front of the house.

  "I hope not. Our marriage hasn't even begun."

  Justice playfully slapped his thigh. "That's not what I meant. I'm talking about my mother. She's going to be around a lot more now, and I know she's going to—"

  Zander put his hand on hers and squeezed. "What did I tell you about worrying? I don't want to dwell on your mother. I want to know what you were going to show me when I got home tonight. You said something about having a fun evening planned?"

  Justice laughed. "Miss Agatha sent over clothing for Bandit Days. I decided on the saloon girl outfit, and I was going to try it on for you."

  "Well then, little lady, get you pretty little bottom in the house and get it on. I want to see it… pronto."

  "Whatever you say, cowboy." Justice hurried into the house, eager to turn what had been a horrible evening into something that made her see stars. She changed into the outfit quickly enough, because, she was surprised to find, the corset had a zipper in the front. The skirt was loose and frilly. There were high-heeled lace up boots with it, but they were too small for her feet, so she went into the living room barefoot.

  Zander sat on the couch, his legs spread in front of him. "Well, little filly," he said in a terrible accent, "come over here and let me give you a ride."

  This outfit made Justice feel sassy. She wiggled her hips again as she walked toward him. When she was inches away, she turned and sashayed her way into the kitchen.

  "Where are you going?" he called out after her.

  Right now, she wished they had already remodeled the kitchen, and there was an island or a bar nearby where she could stand and tell him she was serving drinks. In lack of that, she took down two glasses and a bottle of whiskey she'd found while going through the cupboards one day. There was no telling how long it had been there, but it would serve its purpose today.

  "Need a drink, cowboy?" she asked loudly.

  Zander was in the doorway in seconds. She poured out two drinks, picked them up, and handed one to him.

  "We need a bar," he said.

  "Stay in character," she admonished him.

  "Excuse me," he said with a laugh. He crossed the room and took his drink. He swallowed a small amount. "Wow. You're serving rot gut in here?"

  Justice sniffed her glass. She put it down without sampling it. When her hand was free, she held it out. "That will be two bits, please."

  "For this?" Zander put down his glass. "I don't think so."

  "Pay me or I'll call the sheriff."

  Zander's wicked grin made her insides curl. "I am the sheriff, and you're going to be fined for selling this swill."

  Laughter bubbled up inside her, but she kept it down. It had been a few weeks since she'd had a good spanking, and she felt one coming on tonight. "If you think I'm giving you money after you drank my whiskey, you're sorely mistaken, sheriff." She pointed to the door. "Don't let the swinging door hit you on the way out."

  "How about my hand hit your pretty little fanny? That will be a good punishment for you. Maybe you'll think twice before you sell this stuff."

  She was pretty sure her next words were not in tune with the time period, but she knew they would produce the results she wanted. "Up yours, sheriff."

  The shocked look on Zander's face told her she'd hit the mark. For a minute, she'd thought he'd say something. But instead, he turned and stalked to the counter on the far wall, pulled open a drawer and took out a wooden spoon.

  "Take 'em down," he said.

  The idea of resistance was too much fun. Justice's eyes widened and she shook her head. Before she'd figured out a plan of action, she took off down the hallway toward their bedroom. He caught her at the doorway, wrapping his arm around her waist.

  "Unhand me, you cad or I'll complain to…" who was she going to complain to? "The mayor!"

  "I am the mayor, and the sheriff," he said as walked them into the bedroom. He pushed her toward the bed. "Take 'em down and bend over."

  "Never," she said, trying to hold back a laugh.

  "Then I'll do it for you." He clasped the spoon's handle in his mouth. Within seconds, his hands were at the waistband of the
panties she wore. The outfit rustled under his touch and she fought to push him away.

  "Zander, you're going to tear the outfit if you're not careful."

  "Then do as I ask, or pull out a needle and thread." He did step away, giving her a chance to decide. It didn't take her long. She hated to sew, and she loved to be spanked.

  When she was bent over the bed, her panties at her ankle, she looked over her shoulder.

  "Satisfied?"

  "Not quite." Zander lifted the skirt to bare her bottom. "Now I am."

  "Bad saloon girls get spanked." He rubbed the spoon against her naked ass. It felt so wonderful it made her shiver. She wanted a good, hard spanking, one that made her tingle the next day.

  Justice couldn't help herself. "Then get on with it."

  Zander took her at her word. He'd already been warming her up, getting her ready with the sweet rub of the wood against her ass.

  "Please," she whispered, and he must have heard her, because he started to spank her, slowly at first and then harder and harder until she was clasping the bedding in her hand to keep from reaching back to protect her bottom, a natural instinct even when she loved the feeling so much.

  "Finger your clit," Zander ordered as he spanked her. Justice wiggled herself around enough to do as he asked. Her folds were soaking wet, and she prayed she wouldn't get anything on the clothes, but then she decided she didn't care. It didn't take long for her to come. Zander kept up a steady volley of swats as the orgasm swept through her, making her feel as if she were floating on air.

  He tossed the spoon on the bed next to her, and she heard the sound of his zipper.

  "Yes, do it," she said, crying out in completion as he slipped inside her. His movements were slow and steady, and Justice settled into the mattress, moving her hips gently to meet his thrusts.

  She felt him tighten above her. He cried out her name, and then tumbled to the bed beside her. Justice studied his face, his lips curled into a satisfied smile.

  Instead of getting out of bed so she could take off the clothes, she moved closer so they could cuddle. When she fell asleep, she knew they would play this game again.

  Chapter Eight

  It was hot and humid the day they kicked off Bandit Days. The opening salvo, a 5K run/walk around the park to raise money for the Bluefield Museum, was done early in the morning to keep those participating from overheating. Justice hadn't signed up for it, but she walked anyway, keeping time with Emily who waked with the twins.

  Miss Agatha was walking with them, although she was moving slow. They had made it partway around the park when the older woman asked if she and Justice could go and sit in the gazebo in the middle of the park.

  "I'm afraid I'm getting tired," Miss Agatha said as Justice helped her to sit. "I feel like an old woman."

  "You're just getting over a heart attack," Justice reminded her as they sat down. Miss Agatha wore a dress that covered her from head to toe, complete with bonnet. The shoes were the only thing out of place on the outfit. If someone lifted the skirt, they would see Miss Agatha wore sneakers.

  Justice had the same outfit she'd worn the other night when Zander spanked her so wonderfully. She'd laundered it, and then spent quite some time ironing out the wrinkles, praying she didn't scorch the material. Today, it looked good as new.

  Miss Agatha took a deep drink from her bottle of water. Justice decided it was as good a chance as any to bring up the subject of the failed search for the loot. She hadn't done much more than read all the paperwork, and talk to Abel Gunner.

  "I'm sorry about the loot," Justice said. "Really sorry."

  "Don't be silly," Miss Agatha said. "People have been searching for it for more than one hundred years. That wasn't the real reason for asking you to come down, though."

  Justice was shocked, and she said so.

  Miss Agatha grinned at her. "Let's just say I thought you needed to spend more time with Zander. I hadn't expected the marriage part, that was an added bonus, but I was looking for an excuse for you to spend more time together."

  Justice's shock turned to humor. "You old matchmaker. What made you decide on now?"

  "Coming close to death makes a person think," Miss Agatha said. "I've loved my life, and I knew the two of you love each other. I thought making you search for the loot would bring you together. Turns out, I was right."

  "I'll make you my maid of honor for forcing me to take a good look at things," Justice said. She put her arm around her future grandmother-in-law. "Thank you."

  "Give me another grandchild before I die," Miss Agatha said. "That will be thanks enough."

  "We may need a few years together alone," Justice said. "That means you've got to stick around for a while."

  "Deal." Miss Agatha stood. "I'm ready to go back to the events and then go eat some barbeque."

  Justice wanted to tell her she shouldn't be eating barbeque, but she knew Miss Agatha loved it, so she kept her mouth shut. They made their way to the museum where games for kids were taking place. Later in the afternoon, Zander would take part in a horse race, using Bandit as his mount. After that, the two of them, along with Emily and Brice, would take part in the scavenger hunt where people found fake money and gold, in honor of the legend that made Bandit Days possible.

  The amount of people this event attracted never failed to amaze Justice. It seemed to grow every year, which meant more money for the museum, which was a good thing.

  They found the rest of the family waiting for them at the lunch tables. The ladies sat together while the men gathered food, using some of the younger volunteers to help them carry trays.

  "We're going to find more loot than you do," Brice said to Justice and Zander. He had a fork in his hand and he pointed it at Zander, and then Justice.

  "I thought we were working on this together," Justice said.

  "No way," Brice said.

  "The men decided to make it a competition between the four of us," Emily told Justice.

  Justice turned to stare at Zander. "Really?"

  "Yup, and we're going to win."

  "What is it with you guys? You have to make a competition out of everything. Should we bring a ruler to the finish line so we measure the two of you in case there's a tie?"

  Zander narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't sass me, woman, or I'll…"

  Justice waited on him to finish the sentence. While they'd been talking, all of them had finished eating. The young volunteers, working for tips to pay for a trip to the state agricultural event, had cleaned their plates, leaving the table spotless.

  "Or you'll what?" she stuck her tongue out at him, knowing full well he wouldn't do anything to her in the middle of the crowded park. "You'll sass me right back? I guarantee that I can give out more sass than you can. If giving out sass was a race, you'd be at the starting line and I'd be two laps ahead of you before you broke out of the gate. You need a dictionary to look up the word sass. You need to take sass lessons."

  Justice was rather enjoying the look on Zander's face, a cross between shock and humor. Something told her this would be fun to continue later tonight at the house.

  "You need a spanking," he said, which shocked her. Around them, people snickered. Justice wasn't exactly sure what to say, because his words had made her wonder that maybe he would spank her here in front of all these people.

  "Really, that's all you can come up with? I need a spanking. You would need lessons on how to spank someone, I think." That might get her a few good swats when they got home that evening. "Maybe Brice should spank Emily so you can watch, and learn."

  "Watch it!" Emily said. "Don't be dragging us into this argument. I have no desire to be spanked, thank you very much."

  Justice wasn't sure if that was true or not. She and Emily had never discussed that part of sex because Justice had always worried her friend would think Justice was strange. And there was that part about Zander being Emily's brother. They'd had a hard time getting over that, too. It was the man reason Justice and
Emily had never discussed sex before.

  "Hey, Zander, do you remember that John Wayne movie where he spanked his wife?" Brice asked. "There was a good crowd for that event. Seems like there is a good crowd here, today."

  "It wasn't just one movie," Zander said. "I believe he spanked women in several of his films."

  "Go ahead, Zander, give her bottom a swat or two," someone yelled from the crowd.

  "Excuse me," Justice said, standing up to look around to see who made the remark. "You need to mind your own business, and that goes double for you, Brice."

  But Brice didn't listen to her. "Do you need a paddle, Zander? This isn't a movie set, so one can't be found readily, but I'm sure I can find something."

  "No, that's okay, my hand will work." Before Zander could stand up, Justice pushed away from the table. Since it was a bench, it took her a few seconds to move her feet over the wood, and she felt as if she were about to lose her footing when her feet got caught in the skirt she wore.

  She stumbled, and would have hit the ground of Emily hadn't grabbed her arm. That little misstep was all Zander needed. He was around the table in a shot, grabbing her around the waist. Justice twisted and turned, but it was no use. Within moments, he was seated at the bench with her thrown across his lap.

  There was no warm up, nothing to prepare her, but this was done more in fun, she knew. He swatted her ass and people laughed and cheered.

  "Stop it!" she screamed, wishing she could come up with something more original. He swatted her again, and again. There was no real pain, since she had on several layers of clothing.

  There was only the mortifying thought that half the town watched.

  "You pig!" Another swat.

  "You…" she didn't finish. What would someone in this situation say back in the mid-eighteen hundreds? "Swine!" she finally said.

  "That's the same as pig," someone yelled from the crowd. Zander swatted her ass again.

  "You're just a big old brute, you… you… Zander! Stop it this minute."

  Zander ignored her and delivered three more swats.

  She thought he was done, but before she could stand he slapped her ass once more and said, "And one to grown on."