by Patty Devlin
“Glad to.”
Sunny took advantage of the opportunity to converse about something she knew. “Kansas City is a big city. You can’t know everyone in town, like you can in Carrollton. We’ve had the Union Pacific for a while now, though right before my mother and I left, they renamed it the Kansas Pacific. It all seemed a bit silly to me, but that’s what they did.
“There are tall buildings there, some four stories, and they’re planning a new cable car system. It’s an exciting time to be there.”
“You sound as if you miss it, Sunny,” Martha said.
“I do in some ways. But Carrollton has its charms as well,” she said, batting her eyelashes at Abel.
Abel grinned but said nothing.
Martha persisted. “A city girl like you must find us quaint.”
“I hope to be a Texan in time.” Sunny allowed her thigh to touch Abel’s for a moment, but she didn’t want to appear the harlot, so she quickly withdrew as if it had been an accident. Her body buzzed from the contact, and she felt a bit breathless.
“The trip down to Carrollton must have been an ordeal,” Abel pointed out. “The railroad doesn’t even come close.”
“It was uncomfortable. The stagecoach was bumpy and dusty, and, of course, this time of the year, it was uncomfortably warm. And then we had to ride by wagon for the end of our journey. I was never so glad to have a proper bath as I was when we got to my aunt’s home in Carrollton.”
“I don’t want to pry,” Martha said, “but why the hell would you move from Kansas City to Carrollton?”
Sunny felt her cheeks grow hot at the other woman’s swearing. She sometimes used the word “Hades,” but Mother always chided her when she did. She would never have said something as vulgar as “hell.” Martha Diggins was a very different kind of person. “I…uh…well, my father died, and Mother thought it best for us to be closer to family, even if that did mean leaving Kansas City.”
“Quite a lot of changes in your life, Sunny,” Abel pointed out.
“Yes. But some are good changes.”
His smile said he took the hint.
Pretty soon, they arrived at a clearing near a riparian grove. Although Sunny couldn’t hear the water from her place in the buggy, she did see a glimpse of it through a break in the thick trees. “This,” Abel said, gesturing toward the water, “is Indian Creek.”
“Are there Indians here?”
“Not anymore,” Abel told her, as he hopped to the ground. “Used to be.”
“You’re safe,” Martha said as she dismounted. She patted the rifle attached to her saddle. “Patsy here is watchin’ over us.”
It seemed strange to name a rifle, but Sunny kept quiet, giving Abel her best smile as he put his hands around her waist to lift her down. Sunny’s body got hot, as those big hands guided her to the ground. Did they linger a moment too long? Abel’s eyes twinkled at her and his smile suggested that he enjoyed touching her.
“You’re a tiny thing, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice soft, intimate.
“Compared to you, everyone is tiny.”
He laughed. “I reckon so.” At that point, he released her, and Sunny’s middle lost its quiver. He retrieved a big basket from the back of the buggy and then took Sunny’s hand, leading her toward the clearing. Martha was ahead of them.
“I hope you didn’t cook all that yourself, Abel,” Martha said as she unfurled a blanket on the ground beneath an oak tree. Birds sang all around them. That was one of the most pleasant things Sunny had noted about Carrollton, and Texas in general: there were so many songbirds. Waking up in the morning to their tweets and twitters was a pleasure. Kansas City hadn’t had anything like it.
“I provided the venison sausage,” he answered. “I’m not stupid enough to reckon I can cook proper picnic foods. I got the rest from Elmira’s in town.”
“I guess you’re not so dumb as you look, Armstrong,” Martha teased.
He laughed. Sunny thought he must be the most good-natured man she’d met since losing her father. Her uncle Raymond was a good man, and often made jokes, but he had his moments of temper, too. Sunny couldn’t imagine Abel Armstrong ever losing his temper. Of course, she didn’t know him well…yet.
They sat upon the blanket and ate, making small talk. Sunny was beginning to feel more comfortable around Martha. She found if she took the woman at face value and didn’t try to ascribe genteel breeding to her, she was merely strange. After a while, Martha gave Abel a telling look and stood up. “I need to wash up after that greasy sausage.” She winked. “I’ll just mosey down to the creek and splash a bit. You two don’t mind me. I’ll be a few minutes.”
Sunny took that as an invitation to flirt with Abel. She watched Martha walk away, whistling as she went.
“So, Sunny,” Abel began, “tell me about you. Why isn’t a beautiful girl like you surrounded by smitten suitors? Or…maybe you are. I don’t socialize too much.”
“I’m picky, I suppose. I don’t want a callow young man.”
“Oh? You have your plan all made up?”
“I have goals.” She gave him a gentle smile and dropped her eyes modestly.
Abel took her hand. “What are they?”
Sunny wasn’t too sure whether she should answer that or not, so she changed the subject. “Martha is sure a character,” she said instead.
“She’s a bit rough, but she’s a good woman,” he said. There was real affection in his voice, and Sunny got a bit jealous. “I count her as one of my best friends.”
“Isn’t it unusual to have a lady friend whom you’re not courting?”
“Oh, Martha and I have been around that block. She’s not interested in an old wooden nickel like me.”
That was a bit of a relief, but Sunny wondered what “been around the block” meant. Did they court at one time? Were they lovers? The thought of him and Martha embracing made Sunny’s mood go green. She withdrew her hand from Abel’s. “This is an improper turn of conversation, sir.”
A quick look of puzzlement passed over his face, but he only agreed with her. “Perhaps.”
“Your relationship with Martha Diggins is none of my business.”
“No, not really.”
Sunny’s ire rose. It was certainly her business, if she and Abel were courting! She’d hoped to bring out some information from him, get an explanation by soliciting a defensive reaction. That pretty much backfired. “Of course,” she said, trying not to lose her temper, “knowing more about you makes us that much closer, don’t you think?”
“I reckon, as you pointed out, this might be an improper conversation.”
“You don’t want to feel closer to me, Abel?”
His gaze caught her eyes and held them. “Tell me why your mother isn’t here, darlin’. Be honest this time.”
“Well, I never!”
His smile wasn’t very sympathetic. “I reckon you have explainin’ to do. I’m not so stupid I didn’t realize that you were up to somethin’. Tell me the truth, li’l girl.”
“I’m not a little girl. I’m a grown woman. I don’t have to tell you anything. Anyway, you’re wrong. My mother is ill today.”
“I reckon she’d be positively apoplectic to find us here alone. But she’s not, is she? She doesn’t know about your rendezvous with me, does she?”
Panic welled in Sunny’s chest. Abel was certainly going to reject her if he knew about her lies. She decided to take a more intimate path. “Now, Abel, there’s no call to treat me like this. Why would I lie to you?”
“I reckon you’re lyin’ to your mother, too. You’re a pretty li’l liar, but a liar nonetheless.”
She might be caught out in one lie, but she didn’t have to admit the other. “You’re being mean-spirited. It was a white lie. She said we could court, after all.”
He frowned and Sunny started feeling guilty. His sweet and gentle disposition was becoming more stern every moment. “Did she say we could court? Is that another lie?”
Instead of answering, Sunny dropped her eyes and fussed with her skirt.
“Sunny,” he said, drawing out her name with a warning note.
“Why does it matter? You wanted to court me anyway.” Even to her own ears she sounded sullen and resentful. Why wasn’t he letting this go?
“I wanted to court you properly. Don’t you realize how bad this looks for both of us? Do you want to be shunned by the town?”
“No…”
“Neither do I, but you’ve put us both in that position.” He reached out and pulled her over his lap. “Good girls don’t lie.”
“Stop it! This is outrageous! Let me go!”
“I’ll let you go after I’m sure you’re not goin’ to lie to me or your mother again.” Abel pushed her bustle up onto the small of her back, exposing her ankles as her skirt rose a few inches.
Sunny felt her face flame, and she didn’t think it could get hotter, but it did. Abel spanked her bottom with the flat of his hand. It wasn’t that it hurt, though she could tell he meant it to be uncomfortable, but it did embarrass her. To think that she was spread over his lap like a sack of flour getting her bottom spanked was undignified in the extreme. What if Martha Diggins returned? The woman would probably laugh at her protests, the perverse old hag. But Abel didn’t seem to be taking that into consideration as his hand rose and fell over and over again.
Sunny squirmed, trying to get away, too well aware that her breasts were flattened at the side of his thigh, that her posterior was his target. It was too much to bear.
“Let me go! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean any harm.”
He didn’t answer, except with more spanks.
“Please, Abel. Don’t be so mean.”
“Mean, am I? Well, if the shoe fits…” he said, his voice grim. With that, he pushed her skirts—all of them—up to her back and exposed her bottom. Her pantalettes were showing! Sunny thought she’d die of shame.
“Stop! No! You can’t!”
“Oh, yes, I can.” With hardly a pause, he began whacking her rump again. Her pantalettes were no help at all, the thin cotton hardly a film over her cheeks.
These spanks hurt. And the hurt built up as he continued to ply his hand over her seat and down her thighs.
“Oh! Ow! Stop!”
“Are you goin’ to lie to me again?”
Her plan was in tatters, and Sunny had to admit defeat. It hurt, though, not just her bottom, but also her heart. She’d hoped to make so much of her relationship with Abel. That hope was for naught. He’d never talk to her again after this. Tears smarted her eyes and made her nose sting. “I’m sorry,” she said on a sob.
“Are you sure?” Again, his hand rose and fell. Sunny’s behind felt like a million bees were stinging her, and her middle was tight and twisty feeling. When she imagined what they must look like, with her over his lap, her undergarments showing, it was a salacious picture. A sinful picture. Her belly did an extra twist as her eyes flooded. She’d never be kissed by Abel Armstrong. Her life was ruined.
“I’m sorry,” she said again as the dam burst and she started crying fully.
He stopped spanking her and let her lie there for a short while, then pushed her skirts back in place, settled her bustle and turned her around in his lap. He wrapped his strong arms around her as she cried, and his voice was just above a whisper as he said, “There, there, li’l girl. Naughty girls get spanked, but if they’re good afterward, they’ll get rewards.”
She snuggled into his warm chest, enjoying the feel of his lapel against her cheek. “R-r-rewards? What rewards?”
“What would you like?”
To court you, her mind screamed. But she couldn’t say that aloud. That was a forlorn hope, but maybe… A glimmer of possibility shone in the dark pit of her own making. Maybe she could coax him to fight for the right to court her. Surely, if he was convinced that he wanted her for himself, he’d find a way.
“I would like…a kiss.” It would be her first kiss, and something she could treasure, even if Abel couldn’t convince her mother to let him call.
There was a long pause as Abel stroked her back and allowed her to snuggle against him. “One kiss,” he finally said. “Only one. And then we’re goin’ back to town.”
“Alright.”
Abel took her chin in his hand and turned her in his arms so that she was looking up at him from her perch on his thigh. Sunny closed her eyes. That was what you were supposed to do, according to her friends in Kansas City.
Or maybe not. Abel said, “Look at me, darlin’.”
Sunny did, finding his gaze soft and warm upon her, tender like his lips as they touched hers. Despite his order, she closed her eyes, allowing the feeling of her lips merging with his to take up all her senses. His beard was both soft and scratchy on her chin. He smelled like the cinnamon in apple pie. The kiss was sweet, a gentle pairing of him and her, and Sunny wanted more. She wasn’t sure what more until she felt the touch of Abel’s tongue against the seam of her mouth. Startled, she pulled away. “What are you doing?”
“Kissin’ you,” he said, following up with a grin.
“But you…I mean, are you supposed to do that?”
“Taste you with my tongue?”
Sunny’s whole face burned. She thought she might be blushing all the way down to her toes. She nodded, unable to meet his eyes.
“I shouldn’t have agreed to that kiss,” he said.
With that, her gaze shot up and found him looking at her with something like humor combined with sympathy. “I’m glad you did.”
“Time to take you home.” He pushed her a tiny bit and helped her to her feet. Martha’s whistle preceded her return to the picnic. Had the woman been lingering out of sight, waiting for the right moment to return? What kind of chaperone was she anyway? But Sunny was awfully pleased with that kiss. It had turned her middle to grosgrain ribbons, twirling in a sensual breeze. Come to think of it, that had started with the spanking and picturing herself over his lap. Maybe she wasn’t so sorry that Martha hadn’t prevented the spanking. Without the spanking, there would have been no kiss.
Of course, now Sunny had to figure out a way to get another kiss.
“That creek was mighty invitin’,” Martha said, as they packed up and began the short trek back to the buggy and Martha’s horse. “I would have gone for a dip, but I couldn’t leave you two alone for long. Wouldn’t have been proper.”
Sunny was so focused on Abel’s hands on her waist, handing her up into the buggy, that she nearly missed Martha’s wink.
Was Martha giving her approval? Maybe the woman wasn’t a competitor but really was only Abel’s friend. It was something to think about.
* * *
The ride back into town was rather subdued due to the heat of mid-day. Abel made small talk and pointed out some birds to Sunny, but the girl gave him smiles and nothing more to work with. He should never have kissed her. She was too young to realize just how much that started the ball rolling between them. But he’d felt guilty over spanking her; humiliating her in that fashion was probably over the top. Certainly it was more intimate than he ought to have been with her. She had a beautifully shaped bum, though; he had to admit how much he admired the curves of those cheeks and the length of her legs. Even through the pantalettes, he could appreciate their contours. And, of course, the pantalettes didn’t close in the middle. That opening had been mighty enticing. A little glimpse of creamy white skin made him harden, even in memory. He squirmed around on the buggy seat, trying to get comfortable again.
Sunny seemed no worse for the wear. She might have a pink bottom for a while, but he hadn’t spanked her all that hard. He’d wanted to make a point, and he believed he had. Her lying was unacceptable. One so young had to know the difference between right and wrong.
And hadn’t she showed signs of jealousy over Martha’s relationship with him? That was enough to make him scoff. He and Martha Diggins had been adversaries upon meeting in the schoolyard. At the tender ag
e of ten, Martha had been bigger than Abel and had bloodied his nose. They fought about things, but it became banter. Abel would never hit her, of course—she was a girl—but Martha didn’t much care for those rules. Some of the boys didn’t care either, and the day when one hauled off and hit the pushy girl, Abel had risen to the challenge and, using the strength and height he’d gained in the intervening years, beat the offending boy to the ground. Martha had given him a wide-eyed stare, followed by the biggest, brightest smile he’d ever seen from her. They were good friends from then on.
There had been a time when he and Martha had considered courting. But aside from one fumbling teenage encounter, nothing had come of it. It had been a mutual decision to protect their friendship instead of changing it into something that might not prove as satisfying. Besides, Martha was entirely too independent for Abel. Abel liked to cosset women, nurture them, teach them when they needed to learn. Martha would stand for none of that, and over the years, as their parents had passed on and Martha had begun to run her farm on her own, Abel could see that she didn’t need his tender care. She blistered his ears when he tried. And she had no problem attracting men enough to satisfy whatever peculiar urges were housed in that eccentric mind of hers. Abel thought that maybe, someday, Martha would meet a man tougher than she was and that would be the end of that. Abel didn’t want that challenge, and he didn’t think of Martha that way.
Eventually, they reached the outskirts of town, and Abel fully expected Martha to peel off and go back to her farm, but she didn’t, apparently wanting to make it clear that Abel and Sunny had been chaperoned. If the town saw that three of them were together, maybe they’d be less inclined to look upon the meeting negatively.
Once again, though she’d been incautious with it through the ride from the creek, Sunny plied her parasol carefully, keeping her face in shadow as they progressed. Clearly, she was afraid her mother would find out about their assignation. Abel, however, wanted to make sure there was a clean slate. If he was ever to be able to court the girl, he couldn’t alienate her mother any further than had been done already.
They came to the church, and Sunny murmured that they’d gone far enough into town, so she could be dropped off at the churchyard.
