When A Cowboy Asks (A Rancher's Bride Book 2)

by Chula Stone

  “And the way he tried to provoke Vince and Shep! It was as if he wanted a fight. Not that he would have survived a minute against either of them.” Treli felt her heart contract at the thought that came next. “But he probably wouldn’t fight fair, would he? He’s a back-shooting side-winder if I ever saw one.” The thought of Shep going up against someone like that made her blood run cold.

  “I don’t think Mr. Sloan or Shep either one would let Bailey get the drop on them. They’d be careful. You’re connected to the Sloan family, aren’t you? I know Shep came to town to work for the Sloans, but I don’t know all the particulars.” Betty settled back and loosened her boots.

  Treli did likewise, making herself more comfortable on the settee. The cool of the room soothed her battered nerves and she relaxed. “Yes. I’m the cousin of Drina who is the wife of Mr. Vince Sloan’s brother, Slingo. And Shep brought some livestock earlier this year and just… stayed.”

  Betty gave her a sidelong glance. “So you’re not related in any way to Shep? That’s a relief.”

  “A relief? Why?” Treli asked suspiciously.

  “Why, I just assumed you and he had an understanding. You couldn’t get married if you were related.”

  “An understanding? No, nothing of the kind! Married? Not at all! Shep is… he’s… he came to see you in the booth, remember?”

  “He came to thank me for the brownies he bought. That’s tradition. But who did he spend his time talking with? And who got under his skin with hardly a word and a glance? Not me! It wasn’t me he talked to most. It wasn’t my comments that got his attention. And it wasn’t me who walked away with Bailey.”

  “That was just to annoy Shep,” Treli admitted.

  “My point exactly,” Betty asserted. “You wouldn’t have gone to all that bother if he weren’t important to you.”

  Treli started to shake her head, then realized it was a habit she had picked up from Shep. Her shoulders slumped and she sat back on the settee. “I’ve spent all summer arguing with him. At every family dinner, at every picnic, at every dance and party and any place else around town when we saw each other, I found fault and criticized him while he flirted with every other girl in the room.”

  “Maybe you were so busy fighting him that you couldn’t see his good points. But today, when you saw him in action, and heard from Bailey what a man can be and what Shep isn’t… it opened your eyes a bit.”

  “They couldn’t be more different, could they? Bailey and Shep, I mean.”

  “Total opposites, thank goodness,” Betty agreed. “Shep is more like Vince Sloan in many ways. Now, there’s a good family, if you’re looking for one.”

  “You’re right there. Shep is as high-handed and over-protective as any Sloan. He fits right in on the Frogleg.” Treli’s tone sounded critical, but she had to admit, doubts were creeping in.

  “Do you hear any complaints from Miss Pinkie or Miss Drina? I don’t know them well, but from what I saw, Vince Sloan’s strength is what provides Miss Pinkie the liberty to do what she wants. He might be over-protective, but he gives her more freedom than most women have. Maybe he can let her do what she wants to do because he knows in the end he can keep her safe.”

  Treli contemplated that idea for a moment. “I never thought about Shep like that. Not before today anyway. I suppose he could be that way with a woman.”

  “He sounded that way to me. And so did Mr. Vince Sloan. For Miss Pinkie’s sake, I hope so. Her little boy did hear that terrible word she said and what came after as well. I’m sure of it. Mr. Sloan can’t have liked that.”

  “Not one bit,” Treli agreed. “Come to think of it, she was a little over the top. I was almost enjoying hearing our men put Bailey in his place. She didn’t need to jump in like that.”

  “It surprised me too,” Betty put in. “Who would have thought she even knew words like that? And now her son does as well.”

  Treli couldn’t help laughing along. “And did you see Shep’s face? If his eyebrows had gone any higher, they’d have been airborne.”

  “But he didn’t say a word. That’s impressive. Most men would make fun or even insult a woman who acted like that.”

  “And I’ll bet he never does. Thinking back, I can’t remember a time when he was ever mean.”

  With a flap and a flourish, Aunt Mina came in and addressed Treli in their native tongue. Trailing her usual ribbons and smiling brightly, she reminded Treli that no men were allowed in the house unless she herself were there to chaperone. After a few moments of conversation, the older lady left and Treli apologized as she rose to go. “It’s just nice to talk in the old tongue sometimes.”

  “I understand. My relatives speak German, so I know it wasn’t that, but it was beautiful.” Betty got to her feet as well.

  “My grandparents spoke nothing but the kind of Sinti that they learned in their clan back in the old country. My parents spoke a mixture of both but they wanted us to learn English.”

  “Sinti? That’s lovely. And is that where your name comes from? Their language?”

  “Yes, but my grandmother always teased me because it sounds like the Greek word for ‘crazy’. I suppose I was a little wild to them, anyway.” Treli mounted the stairs at a much slower pace than usual, distracted by her whirling thoughts.

  Betty followed in her wake. “Really? You don’t seem crazy to me. What was so crazy about you? Aunt Mina wouldn’t have you if you weren’t a hard-working girl, regular in your habits and neat in your home.”

  “And that’s why Aunt Mina is considered a little strange, too, by most of our relatives.” Treli gestured around her at the staid and stately brick home that had once belonged to a wealthy family and was now sub-divided into rooms for boarders. “She lives in a house.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “And you don’t mind?” Treli asked with a shy smile. “Some folks don’t approve of my people.”

  “Aunt Mina has never been anything but fair to me. If she’s your people, then I for one heartily approve.”

  Treli didn’t want to end the evening on such a serious note, so as they arrived at the landing where the two girls’ doors face each other, she leaned against the wall and grinned. “It might have been an odd way to grow up, always moving from place to place, but it was fun. Silly things were the order of the day. It taught me to have a sense of humor, even about bad things that happened.”

  “Like what?” Betty asked, leaning on her own door.

  Treli gave a sheepish grimace. “Remember when I first came to Merriview and lived on the Frogleg? I couldn’t even come to church because my leg was broken. I had been stepped on by an elephant.” She covered her mouth and laughed.

  “It isn’t funny,” Betty giggled.

  Treli tried to contain her mirth. “Not at the time, it wasn’t, but it is now. Stepped on by an elephant! I mean, really!”

  “Does that make you hate animals now?”

  “Not at all. It was totally my fault, of course. As is mostly the case in animal-human accidents, the smarter one should bear most of the responsibility.”

  Betty got a hold of herself and apologized for laughing. “I know it must have hurt.”

  “But I learned my lesson and coming here showed me a whole new way of life. I love staying in one place, getting to know people for more than a few days. Seeing a different side of the world than I ever knew before. My people don’t usually… trust outsiders enough to get to know them. I was raised to be afraid, but here in town, I’ve learned that we’re more alike than most people know.”

  “Then you’re planning on staying in town?”

  “Yes, I am.” Treli hadn’t known until that moment that she meant to stay, but thinking back over the day, she knew it was true.

  “Good,” declared Betty simply. “I’m glad. I’m sure Miss Pinkie and Miss Drina will be happier still. And I know a certain young man who will be even more happy than that.”

  Chapter 5

  Pinkie at that moment wasn�
�t feeling happy at all. After what she considered her explosion of righteous indignation at the quilt booth, Vince had sent Dub to find Drina and bring her to fill in for Pinkie. “We’ve got a few things to straighten out at home,” was all he would say.

  Pinkie had no illusions about what he might want to straighten out. Her attitude. Her temper. And most obviously, her mouth. She had no idea where that word had come from or why she had said it. It just slipped out in her anger, and of course, Dub would have to be there to hear it. As soon as they were in the wagon, she started in with her defense, which in her opinion started with a good offense. “Can you believe that man?” A bit of misdirection was also called for. “I cannot believe that Treli would ever agree to walk anywhere with him, much less be seen in public on his arm!” And finally, a bit of distraction couldn’t hurt. “I was so angry, my blood started to boil.” She loosened the buttons at her throat as she never would have dared to do in town and even went so far as to untie her hair ribbon. Tossing her hair to let the breeze cool her neck did feel good so she indulged herself shamelessly.

  “You can cut that out, Pinkie. It’s not getting you out of the seat-warming you deserve. If you think I’m going to let any member of my household get away with that sort of language, you don’t know me very well.”

  “I think I know you well enough. You’re a very fair man and you have to admit, I was provoked.”

  “You certainly were, as were the other ladies at that booth but you didn’t hear them using that kind of language. Nor did you hear me say anything like that. Even young Shep kept his temper. But you, the sweet model of maternal serenity in the crowd had to try to impress a sailor with her vocabulary. Well, I’m sure our son was impressed.”

  “I am sorry Dub had to hear that,” Pinkie admitted on a sigh. The wagon rounded a bend in the road and for several minutes, Vince had to concentrate on his driving while Pinkie held on.

  In short bursts, he gritted out his comments. “We try hard to raise our kids right, Pinkie.”

  “I know. And I appreciate that.”

  “You’re a good example for them. You show the boys just what they should look for in a woman.”

  “I try to be, but no one is perfect.”

  “You’ve got a point there. Nobody’s perfect. Still, a person has to face the consequences of his actions. Or hers, as the case may be.”

  The road leveled out and they were able to talk without strain, but as they neared the house, Pinkie began to get antsy. “I said I was sorry. It’s not as if Dub is going to know whether or not I had to pay a price for my mistake. You’re not going to tell him what you’re going to do, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Vince answered in a low voice as they pulled the wagon into its spot in the barn. “He won’t know, but I will. And you will. That’s enough for me and more important, in the end.”

  It was her end that she was worried about, but she held her tongue, afraid that someone might overhear, though all the children were still in town with Drina and Slingo. There were still some cowboys working in the barns and around the ranch, coming and going on various errands. She would expire from sheer embarrassment if anyone guessed what her husband meant to do. So she went into the house with a smile on her face. Every step she took going up to her bedroom, however, saw it fade into nothingness.

  “Into the corner,” commanded Vince who had followed her silently. “Skirt up. Don’t take all day. We’re going back to the festival after we’re done so I want to get this done.”

  “Going back?” Pinkie had reached the corner but was hesitating about pulling her skirt up. She knew Vince liked her to bunch the material of her skirt up around her waist and hold it there so that she wouldn’t fidget too much with her hands and get out of position. Holding the skirt made it impossible for her to forget where she was or why she was there. “That long wagon ride? After one of your spankings?”

  “I’ll take that into account. Don’t worry. If you’ll do as I say, it’ll go easier for you. You know that.” His voice sounded tired, as if his heart wasn’t really in it. Maybe she could still dissuade him, she mused.

  “Oh, Vince, this is so silly. You know I’m sorry and I won’t do it again. You’re too tired for this. Why bother?”

  “Because I don’t agree with anything you just said. It isn’t silly, I’m not sure you’re sorry, it’s possible that you will do it again and it’s no bother. I might be tired, but I don’t want you thinking we’re too old or dignified for me to take you over my knee and fan your fanny. When you earn a spanking, you’ll get a spanking. Now, are you going to pull that skirt up or am I going to have to get the paddle?”

  “No, no paddle, please.” She wadded her skirt and petticoat into a lump and held it there with both hands. It gave her something to do while she squirmed under his gaze. Oh, yes, even without being able to see his face, she knew he was admiring the view. How many times over the years had she taken this position? Sometimes the offenses had been more serious. Other times they had just been messing around. But every time, she knew one thing for sure: his full attention was focused on her. A curious feeling swelled inside her. Whatever else might happen between them, she always knew she was the center of his world. He would keep that world clean and safe. Whenever she did anything to knock that world out of balance, he would do whatever he felt necessary to put it right once more. A deep warmth suffused her core and she sighed, remembering that in just a few minutes, a very different kind of warmth would be suffusing someplace else.

  “Come on over here,” Vince intoned neutrally.

  Pinkie turned to see her husband sitting on the side of their bed, one of his booted feet stuck up on the edge of the rail that ran down the side of bed. It pushed his knee up to where it was just slightly higher than his belt. No chance of her rolling off his lap. She settled herself slowly onto his leg. “You’re not going to give me very many swats, are you? I mean, I didn’t do anything dangerous.”

  “That’s true,” he agreed.

  “So just a couple of swats should meet the case.”

  “All right. Just a couple of swats, then.” He spanked her bottom, twice on the right cheek and then twice on the left.

  Was that all? Thoroughly embarrassing as this situation was, she counted herself lucky that the heat she felt in her red face would be worse than that in her backside. She couldn’t help herself. A tiny giggle escaped her. She tried to squash it down, but it was too late. He had heard it. She could tell. Still she tried to cover her mistake. “Oh, ouch!” she squealed as she tried to rise.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Vince asked curiously.

  “You said just a couple of swats,” Pinkie reminded him.

  “Just a couple with my hand. Now time for my belt.”

  “Your belt?”

  He removed it slowly so it wouldn’t scrape her as it slid out of his belt loops. “Just a couple with this, too.” She knew how he would double it in his hand with practiced motions.

  Twice it landed, covering both her cheeks, but leaning toward the right. He then shifted her over a bit and landed two more mostly on the left. The sting increased but she was still happy. Just two swats at a time were easy to take.

  She felt him shift and looked around to see him snag his hairbrush from his nightstand. Thinking again how unfortunate it was that their bedroom was so small and his arm reach was so long, she braced herself. Two pops from the hairbrush were serious business. First the right, then the left cheek received their expected punishment. The urge to giggle had receded significantly. It would soon vanish all together like a puddle in the sun.

  “Not yet,” he told her when she tried to rise. “What’s your hurry? Are you anxious to get back on that hard wagon seat?”

  “You said you were just going to give me a couple of swats. What I did wasn’t so bad, remember?” She felt him lean towards the head of the bed and knowing what was hidden on a hook behind the dust ruffle, she bit her lip. “Not the paddle!”

&nb
sp; “It’s just a couple of pops,” he reminded her patiently. “That’s not so bad, either.” His rubbing the cold wood over her heated flesh made the whole thing worse. It gave her time to anticipate the pain. He was as good as his word, only applying two strokes of the paddle to each side of her bottom, but by this time, she was gasping at every swat.

  “But it ouch builds up! Two swats with this and two swats with that adds up to one sore backside.”

  “I guess it might. Just like one little bad word here and one little rude action there add up to some bad habits and a bad reputation.”

  “All right. I’ll give you that. Little things can start to matter,” she agreed grudgingly. She felt the bed move again and hoped he was hanging the paddle back in its place, but no such luck. The next thing she knew, she felt more cool wood on her bare skin. “What is that?”

  “A wooden spoon. I had plenty of time to get it while you were in the corner.” Vince popped it down hard on the tender crease between thigh and buttock, four times in all.

  Pinkie scissored her legs up and down, unable to be still any longer. “So you knew what you were going to do?” she asked, once she had gotten over the worst of the pain.

  “That’s right. Your little giggle didn’t do anything but assure me that my plan was a good one. No, what you did wasn’t like robbing a bank, but I have to take it seriously, so you should, too.” He shifted her forward over his legs.

  “Wait! What next? You already used the— ow— the spoon!”

  “That was the bowl. The handle works well too.” He demonstrated, bringing the long thin wood down across her rump with four quick hot strokes. “It’s like a thick switch. Hmm, that’s something I didn’t think of.”

  “Oh, Vince, no! Really! Please! That’s enough!”

  “I’ll say when it’s enough, but no, I’m not going to cut a switch.”

  That was a relief, but left her wondering what he’d use next. He didn’t keep her waiting long. This time she felt him lean over towards the floor and reach with one hand. When he straightened back up, she thought she knew what would happen. “Is this the thanks I get for finding you such a thoughtful birthday present?” She knew for a certainty he was holding one of the slippers she had ordered from Dallas.