Jill had at last managed to regain control of herself. The sobs had all but subsided and gradually the trembling was easing. It was even a bit funny, she thought without humour. Everyone, even Vicky, thought she was crying for Rachel, but she knew Rachel would be all right. Her ankle would soon heal and she would have Michael as well. How could she not be all right? No, her tears were for herself, but she couldn't tell anyone that, not even Vicky.
She managed the faintest pretence of a smile and shook her head.
"I'm okay, really, but I think I'll pass on the dancing all the same. You go ahead. I was going to go home with Mum and Dad anyway." Then a thought struck her. "Oh no!"
"What?" Vicky asked, surprised by Jill's vehemence.
"I didn't get the keys after all that!"
"Well, you can have them now. They've caused enough trouble." Michael had appeared unobserved and both girls jumped at the sound of his voice.
"Michael! Where did you spring from?" Vicky asked. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. I just put Rachel's horse away and was about to go and turn the pump on when I remembered the keys." He addressed all this to Vicky without even acknowledging Jill's presence, but now he turned to her.
"You all right?" he asked roughly, his mouth setting in a hard line as he noted her tear-stained and miserable face. Unable to speak under the pressure of his stony stare, Jill could only nod dumbly. For a moment, he paused as though about to speak further, then changed his mind and turned his attention once more to his sister.
"Well, I'll just pop in and see how Rachel is, then get on down to the pump. See you later," and he left.
A short time later, Jill was staring from the window of the ute as Jack and Elizabeth drove her back to River Gums. Her head throbbed and a persistent feeling of nausea had settled in her stomach. After the fight she and Michael had had in the kitchen, the spanking that followed and her refusal to go to his room with him afterwards, she had thought their relationship had deteriorated as far as it could and it was doubtful if any of their former friendship could be salvaged from the wreckage. But then he had given her reason to hope. He had asked her if she would give him permission to kiss her, and what had he meant by, "That's not the only thing I haven't made up my mind about, or if I had, I could be thinking of changing it?"
For a brief wonderful moment, Jill had allowed herself to believe that all might not be lost between them, that he might be falling in love with her, that he might be rethinking his plan to marry Rachel. But her hopes had crashed to the ground along with Rachel. There was no doubt where his concern lay after the accident. It wasn't Jill whom he'd gathered protectively in his arms. On the contrary, he'd shouted angrily at her, clearly furious that she'd endangered his precious Rachel.
She was consumed with anger herself now at the cruel way he'd treated her, selfishly leading her on, playing with her emotions, attempting to seduce her to satisfy his own desires with never a thought for how she might be feeling. The very thing, in fact, for which he'd taken down her panties and spanked her so hard only two nights ago. She despised him. Hated him But, oh, beyond all that, how she loved him, too. Her holiday, her dreams, her sweet memories, all ruined beyond repair and there was nothing she could do but count the days until her return to Melbourne. Just a few more days, she told herself. Just a few more days.
After an early night, she was slept out by just after sunrise. Loath to spend another day locked in her room, but also still not feeling like company, she decided to go off by herself with her camera. Packing some fruit and plenty of water, she left a note and wandered down along the river.
With the sun still barely up, the kangaroos were out, grazing in the paddocks on what grass they could find, filling up before heading off into the safety and shade of the trees where they would spend the heat of the day dozing and scratching and flicking away the flies. Jill kept her distance, knowing how dangerous the sharp claws on their powerful hind legs are, but using her telephoto lens, still managed to get some wonderful shots of them feeding and interacting. A pair of emus drinking from the river also provided more opportunity for photos, as did a flock of sulphur-crested cockatoos.
The weather had remained cooler, and the fresh air, exercise and photography combined to lift Jill's spirits somewhat, and by the time she returned to the homestead, she felt confident that as long as she could avoid Michael, she would be able to put on an acceptable front for the rest of the family. He didn't seem to be around when she arrived back at the house, and she spent a relaxing afternoon lazing by the pool with Vicky and Alistair.
Although she had intended missing dinner to avoid the possibility of having to sit at the dinner table with him, she overheard Elizabeth say he wouldn't be in. She realized bitterly that he was probably still at the Longroh's nursing Rachel, but as long as she didn't have to see him, she didn't care where he was, she told herself—well, not much anyway. In the end, though, she was glad she hadn't missed dinner because Vicky chose that night to make an announcement.
"I'm pregnant!" she said unexpectedly as she passed her mother the peas.
After a second's stunned silence, the table broke into an uproar of congratulations, shaken hands, hugs, kisses and even a few tears.
"I'll teach him to drive," Dave offered helpfully.
"What if it's a girl?" Vicky countered.
"When's the baby due?" her mother wanted to know.
"About six and half months," Vicky told them. "But we've only really been certain for a few days, and we've been waiting for the right moment to tell you. I never realized it was possible to be this happy."
She hadn't realized it was possible for anyone to look as happy as Vicky and Alistair did right at that moment, Jill thought to herself, adding a silent prayer that it might stay that way for them forever.
By Tuesday, still unable to totally shake the niggling feeling of responsibility for Rachel's accident, Jill decided she needed to visit her injured neighbour and make a last apology. Borrowing the ute, she set off after lunch, bearing a bunch of roses she'd picked from the garden and arranged attractively in a bouquet wrapped in silver foil and tied with red ribbon.
She found Rachel still in bed enjoying all the attention and fuss, and prepared to accept Jill's offerings of flowers and an apology for having been the cause of the unfortunate incident.
"Yes, well, there are people who just don't understand animals at all, aren't there? I suppose it's not your fault. But you should probably stay away from them in future in case you hurt someone else."
"Well, I just wanted to apologise in person," Jill repeated smoothly, ignoring Rachel's jibe. "I guess it isn't much fun having to spend your holiday in bed."
"Oh, it's not without its compensations," Rachel purred, suggestively stroking her satin sheet. "Perhaps you've noticed you haven't seen Michael since Sunday? He's just been so attentive. I'm beginning to think he quite likes the idea of me being confined to bed." As she spoke, she nestled sensuously into her pillows with the self-satisfied smirk of a woman confident of herself and equally confident of her lover.
Wretched as Jill felt at the sight of the other girl's smugness and the thought that perhaps Michael had shared her bed, she wouldn't give Rachel the satisfaction of seeing her discomfort. Ignoring the previous remark, and maintaining as casual an air as possible, she again avowed her regret at Rachel's misfortune and her wish that the recovery be speedy and complete. Then, with her sense of duty fulfilled, she prepared to leave. There wasn't even really a pretence of friendship between the two women and, besides, Jill was desperate to make her escape before bumping into Michael.
She was, however, doomed to disappointment, for just as she was saying her goodbyes, he appeared in the doorway. Rachel smiled, gently patting the bed by her.
"See?" she addressed Jill. "Didn't I tell you he'd hardly left my side."
"Well, maybe," Michael replied, his eyes fixed on Jill as if watching for her reaction, but she remained impassive, her face expressionless "It's
time I was getting home now, though. I'll get a lift with you, Roo. Just let me know when you're ready to leave."
"Actually I was just leaving."
"Fine. I'm ready."
"Right." Jill sounded more sure than she felt. "I'll wait for you in the ute. Goodbye, Rachel. I am sorry, and I'm glad you're feeling better."
She left the room, sure the lovers would like a moment's privacy to say their farewells, but Michael followed her out almost immediately.
"So, what exactly were you doing with Rachel?" he asked a few minutes later as he accelerated the ute up the drive and out onto the highway. "I hadn't picked the two of you as friends."
"I just wanted to apologise."
"Ah, well that was very thoughtful, if probably unnecessary. Did she accept your apology graciously?"
Jill flashed him a look of surprise noting the irony in his voice.
Michael shrugged. "Well, there's no point pretending. Rachel doesn't always have the best manners, does she?"
"It's not really my place to judge," Jill retorted primly, determined not to be drawn into a conversation with him about the woman he was about to marry.
"Well, let me do it for you then," he smiled at her. "Rachel is a badly-behaved spoiled brat and Bill should have tanned her backside for her years ago. Would do her the world of good if he started now, in fact."
"Have you?" Jill blurted out before she could stop herself. She blushed deep crimson, but she really wanted to know.
"Have I what?" Michael asked innocently, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
"You know," Jill stammered, blushing again, hating to have to actually say the dreaded word. But Michael just looked at her again, feigning ignorance and waiting.
"Spanked her!" There, she'd said it!
"Nope. Never have." Michael replied with a grin, glancing sideways, but Jill kept her face averted, refusing to meet his eyes. "I've thought about it plenty of times, but it's not my place. I can't imagine any husband of hers putting up with that rubbish for long, though, without upending her and reddening her arse on a regular basis."
Was he hinting that he would start spanking her once they were wed? Jill wondered, her mind searching for an apparently innocent way to ask him without being obvious, but she was suddenly distracted as Michael turned off the bitumen and into the picnic area on the side of the road a short distance from River Gums' drive.
"What…" she began as the ute pulled as far from the road as possible and reversed into a secluded piece of bush.
"Well," Michael began, killing the engine, undoing his seatbelt and turning to face her. "As I said, Rachel sure as hell deserves a few painful lessons on manners, but her discipline isn't my problem. Yours is."
"What!" Jill's eyes flung open like an out-of-control blind careening up a window, and she became aware that the skin on her bottom had developed a crawling prickly sensation, not unlike pins and needles. She wasn't altogether sure she liked the way events seemed to be developing.
"I said your discipline is my business, at least while you're on the farm. When you go back to the city, well, I guess then it's up to you. But, right now, you're here and I figure you can guess you're pretty little tail is going to get itself spanked again."
Jill was speechless. In the seven years since he'd started spanking her, she didn't think it had ever happened more than once or twice a holiday, some holidays it hadn't happened at all. It was true that it had become more frequent as she'd got older, but even the last time she'd been to River Gums two years before, he'd only put her across his knees twice. This time, he'd spanked her three times already in the first week, even if one she'd asked for herself, and now it seemed he was planning to do it again, right here and right now. But what for? He'd been the one to say that there would be no more sensual spankings, but what could he think she needed punishing for?
"Do you know why I'm going to spank you, Roo?"
"Because you're mean and horrid!" she retorted crossly, unable to think of anything she'd done which might have earned her a spanking.
"Tut, tut," he shook his head slowly at her outburst. "Well, for that display of rudeness, about which we were just saying Rachel should have her bare arse tanned, this spanking you've got coming now will also be the knickers down variety."
"No!" Jill gasped in horror. Surely, he couldn't be serious about taking her panties down and spanking her here? In broad daylight? "Please, Michael. You can't! What for? I haven't done anything wrong."
"Now, Roo," he said sternly, looking deeply into her eyes. "For a start there's all the things I told you about on Sunday afternoon that you deserve to be spanked for. But never mind those now, what is the one thing I always, and I mean always, spank you for? No question."
"Doing something dangerous," Jill answered surprised. She knew the answer to the question all right, that message had been indelibly fixed in her memory by the spanking he'd given her four days ago behind the shearers' quarters. Searching her mind as hard as she could, she couldn't think of anything dangerous she'd done since then, but nonetheless the memory of the most recent spanking, and the certainty that he planned to do the very same thing now was having a decidedly unnerving effect on her.
Not that she enjoyed being spanked! It hurt! But there was something inexplicably exciting about submitting to his authority in that way, and something also very comforting in knowing he cared enough about her to do it. Still, she really didn't want to have to take her panties down in broad daylight. He'd only seen her in the semi-darkness before, but she would not be able to hide anything from him if he turned her bare-bottomed over his knee now.
"Please, Michael!" Like a timeless procession of girls before her confronting the knowledge that a spanking is imminent, and no doubt a similar number still to come, Jill began a futile attempt to talk her way out of it. "I haven't done anything dangerous. Really. I promise."
"Roo, Roo, Roo," he muttered shaking his head, clearly enjoying her discomfort, and just as clearly with no intention of changing his mind about a spanking being on the agenda. "How many times have I told you about being careful around horses? If you had just been calm on Sunday, that accident would never have happened. As it was, Rachel wound up with a sprained ankle, but it could have been much more serious. You could have been hurt when you were knocked over. You should be grateful that you are getting this spanking because at least you aren't lying in hospital somewhere. Better a sore bottom than a fractured skull. You put not only yourself in danger on Sunday, Roo, but Rachel and me and the horses as well. In my books that's more than enough reason for a tanned backside."
"No, Michael, please don't," Jill whispered, head down. Her eyes, unable to meet his, stared sightlessly at her hands as they twisted nervously on each other in her lap.
Without speaking again, he opened his door, got out, walked around to the passenger side and opened Jill's door.
"Come on," he said, taking her hand and drawing her out.
"No, Michael," Jill pleaded again, hanging back but unwilling to defy him too obviously. "Please not here. Someone will see."
"Only I will see," he turned and assured her, hearing the distress in her voice. "I promise, Roo. I will be watching out, in case anyone comes. You let me worry about that. You'll have other things to worry about."
Undoing the tail-gate on the ute, he clamoured into the tray and helped her up. Four small drums were lined up against the cabin wall, and Michael took two and placed them in the middle of the tray. He then seated himself on them facing the front of the ute and the highway beyond.
"Now, you see," he said, squinting up at her. "You'll be hidden by the cabin and I will have plenty of warning if anyone comes. So, while there isn't anyone else here, let's get on with it, shall we?" And he patted his knees in a clear message to Jill that she was to place herself across them.
"No...." Jill pleaded again, unable to do as she was being bidden.
Wordlessly, Michael stood and undid the buckle on his belt, looking hard at her as he did
so.
"No!" she gasped in genuine fright. He'd never used his belt on her before.
He paused. "Well, sweetie," he told her firmly, "it's up to you. You get yourself over my knee now, keep still and take your spanking properly, and I'll only use my hand. If you'd rather, I can throw you over the bonnet with your bare arse facing the road in full view of anyone going past to see, and you can see if you prefer my belt to my hand."
"No!"
"Right then." Michael did up his belt and sat down again, and this time Jill came to him and lowered herself across his knee. The tray wasn't quite wide enough and her head was all but pressed up against the side of the ute.
"Just a moment," Michael said. "Hop up."
Puzzled, Jill scrambled to her feet to see Michael take off his shirt. Of a naturally strong build and after years of farm labour, his body was lean but perfectly sculptured. Jill's eyes hungrily devoured the sight of his bare chest, rounded on each side, his dark nipples visible through curly, dark hair that receded into a thin line travelling down his hard, flat stomach and disappearing into his jeans. Before she had time to really enjoy the sight, though, he was gesturing for her to take her position back over his knee.
"Here", he said when she'd laid back down. He rolled his shirt up and gave it to her to use as a pillow against the side of the ute. Folding her arms around it, she lay her face on the warm slightly damp cloth, breathing in his musky masculine scent.
"Oh, no, please," she cried as she felt him lift up her short dress.
"Don't fight me, Roo," he growled dangerously, and with a sob of resignation, she made no further protest as he pushed her skirt up to her waist, and pulled her panties down to her knees. Feeling his hand moving slowly across her exposed curves, she was painfully self-conscious that he was allowing himself time to enjoy his first real view of her naked bottom.
Gripping his shirt even tighter, she buried her face in it, looking for a dark place in which she could escape the growing intensity of her emotions. She was in his power, her bottom was a naked, vulnerable offering, and he was about to demonstrate his authority over her by forcing her to endure the physical pain of a spanking. But that physical pain would also demonstrate his genuine concern for her, would show her that she mattered to him, mattered enough, in fact, for him to watch her and chastise her if she failed to take proper care.
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