The Marshal's Rebellious Bride

by Starla Kaye

  He still remembered her bounding into Keno’s room to announce her plans to get married. Lord, she’d sounded so damn happy. Yes, she probably wouldn’t be opposed to the notion of marriage. Well, maybe she might be reluctant at first since she didn’t know him, but he didn’t see that she’d have much choice in the matter once her brothers got to reasoning with her.

  Like me. No choice.

  He supposed he ought to court her some. He couldn’t do it long, though, because he planned to get married and have at least a month to settle into marriage before he went back to marshalling. He still wasn’t sure when he would finally turn in his badge. The hands already working the ranch could handle things for a spell and he knew Taos would keep an eye out as well.

  A strange hissing sound drew his attention. His hand shifted automatically to his Colt and he looked cautiously around. A few feet away a snake slithered into the brush and he relaxed a bit. Yet he continued to wonder about the unusual noise. It seemed too much for that small of a snake.

  Taos appeared uneasy, too.

  Something yellow floated in the sky above the town. He reined Demon in and snapped, “What the hell?” He’d seen one of these contraptions before, back east. A balloon. He had seen one list off to one side like that right before it fell out of the sky. “Damn thing’s gonna crash!”

  He headed hell-bound toward the heart of town with Taos hot on his heels.

  * * *

  The wind picked up again, jerking the balloon around. Whiskey slid against the side of the basket. “Dadblamed horse’s patootie!” She used one of the many phrases she’d learned growing up around her father’s ranch and the various saloons he’d owned. She rubbed her aching shoulder. Her entire body felt like one big bruise. This adventure hadn’t quite turned out like she’d imagined.

  With the next gust of wind the foul odor of manure from the cattle pens below drifted up. She tried to hold her breath. Then she caught sight of the toll bridge on the Arkansas River at the end of town. Relief swept over her. The Wakefield Ranch wouldn’t be far away now; she was almost home. Thank God.

  She carefully manipulated the gas valve and tried to judge the weight of remaining ballast, concentrating on steering the balloon to a safe landing just on the north side of town. But the wind jerked her again. She unintentionally turned the gas valve off. The silken globe began collapsing.

  Her stomach knotting, she raced to untie the ballast bags, hoping to keep some altitude.

  To her distress, the balloon continued collapsing in on itself and drifted while rapidly losing altitude. Her heart pounded. Lord, don’t let me slam into the side of a building.

  The balloon floated only a few dozen feet above the ground, swaying and rocking. Morgan was rolled up into a protective black-and-white ball and bounced around the basket floor. All she could do was pray and desperately throw the dragline over the side.

  She looked down once more and saw a pair of riders racing through town, dodging around the chaos that reigned in the street. Riders struggled to control startled horses. Wagons stopped at all angles with their drivers staring skyward in disbelief.

  Up and down the wooden boardwalks people gaped. Children pointed. Even Bat Masterson with his drooping mustache and familiar bowler hat stood next to Deputy Wyatt Earp just outside the Occident Saloon watching in fascination.

  The two riders she’d spotted thundered in her direction. She blinked and her breath froze. The leaner man, face ashen with worry, looked up at her: Taos. She felt momentary relief.

  Suddenly the balloon did another wild bob. She grabbed the rope with the anchor attached from the floor, and then tossed it over the side. Unfortunately, she hadn’t paid any attention when she tossed the rope.

  As she peered over the side, she heard the anchor hit the flat roof of Kelly’s Opera House with a clunk! “Darn, double darn!” she grumbled.

  A deep bellow of rage roared up from the street below, loud enough that she heard it above the continued hissing of the collapsing balloon’s envelope. She looked down and then wished she hadn’t.

  “Angelina Wakefield,” Taos shouted, using her given name, which was always a really bad sign. “I’m going to warm your backside but good!”

  Annoyed with him, she held onto the side of the basket and glared down. She had plenty of things to say to him, too, but not in front of half the town.

  Before anymore could be said, the gondola landed with a teeth-jarring thud on the rooftop.

  She yelped and was thrown against the side of the basket. The massive yellow cloth, with all its netting ropes, covered the basket. She had a whole new problem to handle now.

  * * *

  Morgan was beyond furious, beyond thinking about anything but getting to that crazy redhead. He ignored everyone around him as he dismounted almost before Demon had even stopped. He tossed the reins at the hitching rail and then tore into the Opera House, heart pounding.

  Flying in a danged balloon! Didn’t that just beat all.

  He stormed through the partially dark main room, ignored the few people inside, and took the stairs at the back two at a time. Taos was right behind him.

  He gritted out, “Hell of a friend you are, wanting me to marry that idiot sister of yours.”

  Taos merely grunted a response, but Morgan didn’t think there was much his friend could say at the moment in defense of his sister. Every man, woman and child in town had to be thinking Whiskey Wakefield was way short on brains. Still, no matter what he thought of her right now, he was more than a little worried.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  He needed to find a window that would give him access to the roof. He needed to get to that crazy female, drag her out of that basket, and… Well, he wasn’t sure what he’d do next. Follow through on that “burning her backside” thing that Taos had mentioned but probably wouldn’t really do right now sounded good to him.

  Finally, in the trunk and crate filled dusty attic, he found what he was looking for: a window that opened right onto the main part of the flat roof. Gut knotted, he stared through the hazy glass pane at the jumble of basket, yards of netting, and a mess of collapsed balloon.

  Taos swore a blue streak as he gaped at the same sight. Past that point, Morgan kicked the pane out with his boot heel. Glass shattered and fell inside and outside the window. He continued kicking until all the glass was out, then he thrust his leg through the window. It took some contorting but he squeezed his big body through the opening, growling, “You can pay for the window. She’s your sister.”

  Taos followed him outside. “Hell if I will! She can pay for it herself.”

  “A little help here,” Whiskey called out, drawing their attention.

  Morgan faced the balloon and noted the woman peering through a corner of the collapsed envelope that she’d managed to shove aside. From what he could see, she looked the color of a freshly washed sheet. But her green eyes danced with life, with irritation. Evidently she wasn’t being rescued fast enough to please her.

  Together he and Taos moved toward the mess. Taos muttered under his breath about burning the damn balloon, about blistering his sister’s ears. Morgan was more interested in blistering her butt. He barely knew her—even though he was going to marry her—and she’d scared a good dozen years off his life. Maybe more.

  Between the two of them, they pulled the yellow fabric further to the side and enough to free her.

  She bounced up all wild-haired and wide-eyed. Still, she looked cautiously at her brother. “Thanks.”

  “Angelina Wakefield,” Taos said in a voice rusty with emotion, “I swear you aren’t going to sit for a month of Sundays.”

  She had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Are you going to help me out of this contraption?”

  Taos didn’t move he was evidently still too frustrated.

  Morgan strode straight to her, reached in to snag her, but was handed a ball of black-and-white fur that promptly unballed to hiss up at him and raise a tail.

  Thank the go
od Lord, the usual offensive spray didn’t come at him. It appeared the critter couldn’t let her rip. Again, thank the good Lord.

  He tossed the squirming skunk at Taos, who caught it and gaped at his sister.

  She looked amused and said calmly, “Don’t worry, Morgan can’t spray you.” She narrowed her eyes. “But don’t even think of throwing him over the side of the building. He’s my pet.”

  “Morgan? You named a damn skunk ‘Morgan’?” Morgan pinned her with an irritated glower. She really was going to be a handful.

  “Seemed fitting.” She glared right back at him.

  Unable to say another word, he reached into the basket and hauled her out.

  She wiggled to get free the second her feet neared the ground, but he refused to let her go. The soft curves he felt as she squirmed against him made him wish he’d never touched her. His body hardened. Lord a’mighty! His jaw tensed. He was in a hell of a lot of trouble.

  She bristled like a wet cat the instant he set her down and released her. A blush covered her cheeks. “I suppose I should thank you.”

  “I suppose you should.”

  She pursed her lips and stretched to her full height, a good foot shorter than him. She tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Thank you.” There was no sense of sincerity in her tone.

  Taos struggled to hold the wriggling skunk well away from his body. “What were you thinking? Where the hell did you get a balloon?”

  “Aunt Mae.” Whiskey glanced back at the pile behind her. “I had everything under control until… Well, until that last gust of wind.”

  Morgan was almost shaking with fury now. She’d scared him and he hated that. He was pretty darn upset at Taos, too, for not dealing immediately with this bout of craziness. By damn, if she was going to be his wife, then he was going to start out showing her what to expect from him when she pulled stupid stunts in the future…and he knew in his gut she would.

  “Take that skunk away,” he bit out. “I’m going to have a few words with your sister.”

  They shared a look of understanding. Taos hesitated and then gave a curt nod.

  “Hey!” she called out as her brother moved back toward the window. “Where are you going?”

  She tried to move by Morgan, but he latched onto her arm.

  Taos wisely didn’t even glance back.

  Morgan tugged her close, swept his gaze down the length of her. “Britches. You’re wearing boy’s britches,” he said in disgust, even if she did look kind of cute in them.

  She attempted to pull her arm free. “It’s none of your business what I wear.”

  “You’re wrong about that.”

  She went rigid. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She pulled on her arm again. “Let. Me. Go.”

  Instead he tugged her even closer, bent her forward under one arm and pinned her at his hip. She’d barely managed to gasp when he started peppering her bottom with fierce smacks. He wouldn’t bare her bottom because it wouldn’t be proper until they got married. But she would certainly feel this even through the layers of britches and pantaloons.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she protested, dancing on her toes, trying to get away.

  He soundly spanked every inch of her bottom. “I’m making sure you think twice before you ever pull a dumb stunt like that again.”

  He thought about how she could have crashed into the side of the building. About how she could have fallen out of the basket while somewhere up in the sky. About…

  He spanked even harder, steadily.

  Her small feet pounded the rooftop. “Stop! Stop right now!”

  He couldn’t stop, not yet. She was just mad, probably embarrassed, but not really sorry for what she’d done. He went right on spanking her wriggling bottom. “I won’t have you behaving so irresponsibly. I won’t put up with it. Do you understand me?”

  She slapped at his leg, attempted to reach around for his gun.

  He shook her and held her even tighter. His hand went back to delivering a painful message that he hoped she’d remember. “I should take off my belt and thrash you good for even thinking about that.”

  “Why…why are you…doing this?” She hissed at a particularly hard swat. “Ohhhhh…stop. Please stop.”

  He eased up, but didn’t stop. “You need a strong man with a strong hand. You need someone who won’t put up with your mischief.” He sent another swat to the underside of her bottom. “Taos was right about that.”

  After he’d landed another dozen swats, he finally decided she’d had enough of a spanking. She would have trouble sitting while going back to the ranch. Besides, his hand hurt like the devil. He released her and she immediately spun away from him.

  Her eyes glistened with tears but she hissed and spit like a wildcat in spite of the fact that he’d just walloped her good. “I don’t need a strong man. I don’t need any man. Certainly not you.” Then she studied him harder. “What does Taos have to do with this anyway?”

  Morgan flexed his hand. Spanking a woman was damn hard work. “Your brothers want me to marry you. Actually I’ve already promised Taos that I would.”

  She rubbed her bottom, something he wouldn’t allow in the future but would for now. “Marry you?! Isn’t it enough that you and I will already share ownership of the ranch? Aren’t I suffering enough with that?”

  She stopped rubbing. “I would not marry you if you were the only, the absolute only man left in the world.”

  He took offense at her clear disgust about marrying him. “You’re no real prize either.”

  Now she took offense. “At least I don’t go around killing people. Or…or manhandling innocent women.”

  “I only kill people if’n I have to.” He gave a weak smile, being so out of the habit. “I didn’t manhandle you. I spanked your butt. Because you needed it, because I needed to do it.”

  He stepped toward her. “I’m thinking maybe I need to do it again.”

  She moved back. “Don’t you dare!”

  Taos popped his head through the window and she glanced in his direction. “Don’t think just because your fiancé there warmed your bottom that I won’t be doing the same thing when we get home.” He motioned to her. “Now quit your sulking and get in here. It’s time to go back to the ranch.”

  She dropped her hands away from her stinging bottom, her cheeks pink in embarrassment. “I’ve got a few things to say to you, too. And you’re not giving me another spanking. No, no, no.”

  “Oh yes I am. Keno may even want to deliver one as well.”

  She glowered back at Morgan as if all of this was his fault. And then she marched primly toward the window. He continued staring after her as she gave him an excellent view of a mighty fine backside when she scrambled through the broken-out window. He had a notion that spending the rest of his sorry life chasing down criminals and occasionally getting shot would be a hell of a lot easier than living with the little spitfire.

  He glanced back at the balloon and promised himself that he’d see to it that it was burned to dust as soon as possible.

  * * *

  Whiskey stood in the middle of the boardwalk in front of the Opera House holding her beloved skunk and ignoring all the curious people around her. Taos towered over her and looked madder than she’d seen him in a long time. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind he would follow through with that threat of a spanking. Probably Keno would, too. Darn it all. She’d already been spanked by the irritating man now walking out the door.

  Marry him? Absolutely not! What were her brothers thinking?

  “I want your promise that you won’t destroy my balloon.” She’d already said that and Taos had growled. She had to insist on his word. “It isn’t even really mine. It’s Aunt Mae’s. I just borrowed it.”

  “You sure ain’t flying it again,” Morgan stated as he drew up beside Taos.

  Although his jaw seemed too tight for him to speak, Taos bit out, “I’ll have a couple of the hands come get it tomorrow. But you aren’
t going anywhere near it again.”

  Morgan looked far less than pleased but didn’t contradict her brother. She noticed that he was frowning at the skunk in her arms, no doubt recalling how she’d named it after him. She stroked its back and heard the soft purr-like sound of his contentment.

  “I’ve also got two animals on the train coming in that we need to take back to the ranch.”

  “We didn’t bring a wagon in with us, but I suppose we can rent one from the livery stable.” Taos seemed resigned to doing so. “You probably have a satchel or two as well to take home.”

  Morgan moved closer and nerves fluttered in her stomach. The man was so big, so darkly handsome, so…so aggravating. She remembered feeling some of the same attraction to him the first time she’d run into him, in Keno’s room before…

  She forced down any such feelings for the rough Marshal. He was used to ordering people around, used to getting his way. They would never get along well. She detested being told what to do, which often got her into trouble and often got her turned over someone’s knee. Well, she was twenty now. Mature. She knew what she wanted in life, and it certainly wasn’t being tied to a gruff man like him! She still couldn’t believe that he’d spanked her.

  “What kind of animals are you talking about?” Taos interrupted her tumultuous thoughts. “Dog? Cat? Surely not another skunk?”

  “I want to know why you chose not to ride on the train,” Morgan inserted.

  Funny, she could almost feel his big, hard hand swatting her bottom again. That annoyed her. “I did ride on the train most of the way. In a boxcar.”

  She focused on her brother. “A camel and a mule.”

  The crowd appeared to be dispersing now, much to her relief. She was used to causing a scene and drawing attention, even when doing so was never her intention. But she really didn’t like laundering her family’s business in front of the whole town. She wished Morgan would go away, too.

  His eyes had darkened and he was clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides. “You rode in a boxcar!”