Rising up from the straw, Dolly moved past her mare and out of the gate. Tucker still looked angry, and she didn’t blame him. It must have been a shock to see her riding down the middle of Main Street, but she was none too happy either. He could have at least let her explain before hauling her over his knee and spanking her so hard she thought her skirt might catch on fire.
“I’m waitin’ to hear what the blazes you were thinkin’,” he said tersely. “I’ve gotta get on back to town, and thanks to you, I’m gonna have to walk.”
“Why don’t you ride one of the horses father left you?”
“Too complicated,” he drawled. “Now start talkin’!”
“I was in town because I got this,” she declared, withdrawing a piece of paper from one of her boots.
Taking it from her hand, he held it near the light and began to read it out loud.
Dolores:
Your father won’t listen to reason. There’s a way Spring Junction can be a safe place for everyone, and I’m hoping you’ll be able to make your pa see sense. I’d like you to be my guest for a late supper at the Golden Rock Hotel. All I want to do is talk. I’ll be there all evening, so arrive whenever you can slip away. I promise your safety while you are here, and safe passage back to your home. If you can’t make it, I’ll understand, and perhaps we can try again later. If you don’t wish to meet me, then get a message to the hotel.
Patrick McGill
“You were on your way to meet him?” Tucker exclaimed, aghast that she would do such a thing.
“I’m not an idiot,” she said defensively, “though everyone thinks I am, including you.”
“You sure do idiotic things sometimes, and plannin’ on meetin’ this man? Yeah, that’s bein’ an idiot!”
“I know we can’t live with him running the town, but I had to go.”
“In blazes why?” he demanded. “That’s just plumb crazy.”
“Because if I figured if I didn’t show up, he’d be unhappy, and until you’ve done whatever it is you’re going to do, it’s better that he thinks he’s got the upper hand.”
“So you didn’t tell anyone about this? You just snuck out of the house? Dang, girl, I should bare your backside and spank you again!”
“Father would never have agreed to me going,” she retorted, raising her voice. “I had no choice.”
“You should’ve told him! He would’ve told me, and we could’ve decided what to do about this together.”
“How? The cabin’s off limits, remember, and besides, you would have put up a stink.”
“I sure would’ve,” he barked. “You can’t handle a man like Patty McGill. He could take you hostage; he could do anything once you’re with him.”
“This is ridiculous. He’s trying to get control of the town and he’s hoping I’ll convince my father to give it to him. I need to go and meet him. I need to hear him out. Won’t it make things easier for you if he’s feeling confident?”
“You don’t know anything about what I’m plannin’,” Tucker said grimly, “and he’s none too confident at the moment.”
“What do you mean? Why not?”
“One of his gang is feelin’ poorly and scared to death, and his brother, well, Conan is in real bad shape.”
“But… you don’t have a scratch on you. How can that be?”
“Don’t matter, I’ve already started my work. Right about now, Patrick’s madder ‘n a hornet buzzin’ round his kicked-in hive. You show up, I doubt you’ll be goin’ back home.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she mumbled. “I didn’t know…”
“You think you can just go off and do whatever you want!” he scolded. “If I didn’t have to get back into town, I’d find me a stick and stripe your bottom till it looked like a gosh-darned sidewinder.”
“I’m sorry,” she said earnestly. “I am, honest.”
“A bit late!”
“What about you? Are they after you? Is that why they came here?”
“All they’ve got is a vague description from a fella whose eyes were squeezed shut about ten seconds after we met, and whose head was spinnin’ the rest of the time. Comin’ here was a guess, and dang it, Dolly, you’re to stay away from this place and from the town, you hear me?”
“Yes, Tucker.”
“What’d I tell you about usin’ my name?”
“Oh, sorry, Sir,” she said hastily, her hot, prickling bottom a reminder of what she’d be in for if she disobeyed him.
Tucker was about to scold her again, but to his astonishment, she lowered her eyes, and in the lamp’s dim light, he could see a pink flush crossing her face.
“That’s better,” he said, softening his tone. “Let’s get your mare saddled up and get you back to your house.” Then pausing, he added, “Hold on just a minute. How did you get that note from McGill?”
“I found it in an envelope slipped under my bedroom door.”
“Say what?”
“It was Lucy who put it there. She said she found it sitting under a rock outside the front door.”
“Wouldn’t one of the stable hands have seen it bein’ put there?”
“I asked them, and they claim they saw nothing.”
“How many staff you got in that house?”
“Let’s see, there’s Betsy, the cook, Maude, and Lucy, and sometimes we have extra help if Maude thinks the house needs sprucing up.”
“And in the barn?”
“Three, sometimes four.”
“This is real serious, Dolly. You’re gonna have to tell your pa.”
“About the note?”
“About everything, includin’ me findin’ you ridin’ down Main Street.”
“I can’t. He’ll be furious.”
“He should be furious,” Tucker said sternly, “and I hope he’ll punish you, but you can’t trust anyone in that house, and he needs to know that. You understand?”
“Oh, I’m not looking forward to this,” she muttered. “I understand why I have to tell him, but I’m not looking forward to it.”
“Go get your horse and bring her over here. It’s gettin’ late, and I’m gonna throw a bridle on one of the horses in the corral and ride up with you, make sure you get back safe.”
“Don’t you need to bring it over here to saddle up?”
“I don’t need a saddle.”
“I’ve never ridden like that. Isn’t it hard?”
“Nope, now get your mare. I’ve gotta get back into town, and when you talk to your pa, tell him I’ll be at the house to see him Thursday mornin’.”
“You will?”
“Yep.”
“Does this mean you’re staying? Does it mean you can help us?”
“Yep, but only if you stay outta my way, got it?”
“I will, I swear I will,” she exclaimed.
“I’ll be seein’ your naked backside turn redder than a burnin’ ember if you don’t.”
“I promise,” she said fervently, then impulsively threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Tuck—sorry, thank you, Sir. Thank you so much.”
“It’s not done yet,” he mumbled, keeping his hands on his hips and trying to stay composed as her luscious body pressed against him. “Thank me when the McGills are gone and there’s peace again. Now let’s get on outta here.”
But she continued to cling to him, and in spite of her hot, stinging bottom, she was aching for him to hold her, yearning to feel his strong arms engulf her, and closing her eyes, she rested her head against the crook of his shoulder.
“It’s all gonna be fine,” he said gently, thinking she was looking for reassurance.
She was tightening her hold, and though he was trying to ignore it, a surge of feeling had begun washing over him and his cock was springing to life.
“We really need to head on outta here,” he mumbled, fighting a sudden and intense desire to grab her hair, yank back her head, and devour her sweet cherry lips.
“Can you
please just hold me,” she begged, “just for a minute?”
His head told him no, an emphatic no, but his body and his heart compelled him forward, and letting out a resigned sigh he surrendered to the moment, raising his arms and wrapping her up. It was impossibly glorious. Her feminine fragrance was floating around him, her body was warm and yielding, and the faint, earthy aroma of the hay was calling for him to lay her upon its softness, peel off her clothes, and make her his own.
“Tucker,” she whispered, “this is heaven.”
“It’s not the time,” he breathed.
“Please, just a little while longer?”
“I can’t. I’ve got… to… go… I must,” he managed.
With his need gushing through him, taking a deep breath, he struggled past his craving hunger, moved his hands to her shoulders, and pushed her back. She resisted, but only for a moment, then dropped her arms and gazed up at him.
“Fetch your horse,” he said softly.
She paused for a few seconds, then wordlessly moved away, and as he watched her, his cock stiff and needy in his trousers, he noticed the defiant tilt of her chin was gone, and her shoulders were no longer squared and rigid.
Dolly silently bridled her horse, keenly aware of the warm wetness between her legs. Never had she felt such desire, and as she led Daisy out of the pen and moved toward Tucker, she wanted to throw herself at him and beg him to lay her on the soft hay and ravish her. He lifted her saddle, and she gazed at his heavily muscled arms, the arms that had just held her and made her heart thump wildly against her chest.
As she brought Daisy to a stop in front of him and he settled the saddle on the mare’s back, he glanced down and caught her eye. In the lantern’s soft golden light, he could see the sparkle, and more… much more.
Chapter Seven
Riding through the thicket, the moon’s light hindered by the sprawling overhead branches, listening to the hooting owls and the howls of coyotes, Dolly was deeply grateful Tucker was at her side.
During the day, with the sun shooting its shards of light through the foliage, the thicket was a warm and welcoming place, but she had never been there after dusk and it was a very different experience. It had been twilight when she’d snuck out of the house, still early enough to enjoy the waning shadows, but she hadn’t given any thought to her return, and she now realized how shortsighted she’d been. The thicket was spooky, and without Tucker’s comforting presence she would have been jumping at every sound.
They cleared the trees, then broke into a gallop across the field and up the gentle slope to her home. They pulled to a stop in the stable yard, and as Tucker watched her dismount, his busy brain unexpectedly began firing ideas through his head.
“You be sure and tell your pa everything first thing in the mornin’,” he said, keeping his voice low. It was quiet and still, the house was asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb anyone.
“I will, I promise.”
“And after thinkin’ about it, I’m not sure I can make it Thursday mornin’, but tell him a priest will be here for sure. His name is Father O’Brien, and he’s gonna be helpin’ me get Spring Junction under control.”
“A priest?”
“Yep. He’ll be stayin’ with me at the cabin, but I’ll be spendin’ most of my time in the town, and tell your pa to have the marshal here.”
“Kenny Bragg?”
“Yep, tell him to make sure of it and that Father O’Brien will be up here around eleven.”
“All right, and please be careful when you go back.”
“Dolly, you don’t have to worry about me,” he assured her with a wicked grin. “You take stay close to home, and for goodness’ sake, behave yourself! Bye, now.”
“Bye, Tucker.”
Turning his horse around, he rode back down the hill and through the thicket, but stopped as he emerged from the trees to study the cabin. Scrutinizing the area, he saw no sign of life, and as he cantered across the field and stopped in front of the corrals, the horse that had been left by himself let out a welcoming whinny.
“You miss your buddy?” Tucker grinned as he jumped off and released the horse back into his pen. “There you go, he’s back safe and sound.”
Leaving the bridle hanging on a hook near the gate, he began his jog into town, and his mind wandered to the spitfire he’d had over his knee just a short time before.
Dolly Baker was an intoxicating combination of spirited stubbornness, extraordinary courage, and simmering sexuality. As he’d been saddling her mare and his eyes had caught hers, he had seen her penchant for devilry to be sure, but they had also held a hot, brimming passion. He couldn’t deny the erotic pull; he wanted her, but with the circumstances being what they were, he couldn’t ask Duke Baker for permission to call on her.
“When I set Spring Junction back on its law-abidin’ feet, nothin’s gonna stop me,” he muttered to himself. “Dang, that girl is under my skin.”
Approaching Main Street, he did his best to push Dolly from his mind, but he suddenly flashed on how exquisite her bottom had felt as he had heartily spanked her. Next time, if there was a next time, regardless of what she was wearing, he was going to bare her backside.
“Get a grip, boy,” he mumbled as he slowed to a walk and slipped behind the buildings. “You need to focus or you’ll end up eatin’ lead.”
Except for some drunkards sitting on the ground leaning against a building, the sparse area was empty. Picking up his pace, he was soon passing the back of Kitty’s Korner, then Sam’s Mercantile, but when he noticed the iron bar he’d used to cut down Conan McGill was still on the ground where he’d dropped it, he paused. His blue shirt and black hat were still stuffed behind the crate in the storeroom; it would be wise to retrieve them.
Scanning his surroundings, making sure he was still alone, he tested the door. To his surprise it was open, and slipping inside the dark storeroom, he stood completely still and listened. It was empty and quiet, but as the door slowly swung shut behind him, the room fell into darkness. Not wanting to light a match, he cautiously felt his way along the wall. It was difficult, and he stumbled over what he assumed was a box, hitting his shin on the edge.
“Dang it!” he hissed, rubbing the bone. “I should do this durin’ the day.”
The light of a lantern suddenly appeared, coming down a flight of stairs. When he’d been there earlier in the day he hadn’t noticed the narrow staircase, and ducking into the shadows, he held his breath.
“Who’s there?”
He recognized the voice of the shopkeeper, and though the man had attempted to sound brave, Tucker could hear the fear.
“It’s all right, it’s me, the fella who was here earlier and took out Conan McGill.”
“Land sakes, are you crazy?” the shopkeeper declared as he quickened his pace and came into view. “They’re lookin’ for you all over town! How have you been able to stay outta sight?”
“I’m good at that sorta thing,” Tucker replied, “and I’m sorry I scared you. I left my shirt and hat stashed here.”
“You ain’t no bother. After what you did today, believe me, you ain’t no bother. If I had a medal I’d pin it on your chest.”
“Can I get some more light over here? I know I put my stuff behind a crate someplace. What’s your name?”
“Sam, Sam Hinkley,” the shopkeeper said as he walked forward holding up the lantern.
“Tucker Prescott,” Tucker said, pausing his hunt to shake the storekeeper’s hand.
“Are you here to take down the McGill gang? Get us some peace back into this town?”
“I’m gonna try, but what happened today wasn’t planned. It was just luck that the man I knocked out was one of the McGill brothers.”
“If you ever need a place to hide again, you just come on in. I’m about ready to leave Spring Junction, but I sure don’t want to, it’s my home. This store was started by my pa, but my wife and young’un, they’re scared all the time, and I don’t blame ‘em.
I was worried my place would get messed up after today, that’s why I was up in the loft watchin’ over things.”
“That’s no way to live,” Tucker grimaced. “I hope I’ll be able to help. Ah, here they are,” he exclaimed, lifting up his shirt and hat. “Now I’d best be on my way.”
“My door’s always open,” Sam said, “like I said, any time.”
“That’s how I got in,” Tucker said soberly. “You make sure and lock it after I leave.”
“With all the excitement today I guess I forgot. That’s not like me.”
“It’s not surprisin’,” Tucker remarked. “Hard to think straight after what happened here. I’ll see ya later. Take care of yourself.”
“Night, and thanks again.”
Tucker slipped outside, and striding away, he was soon creeping around the side of Rose’s Lodge. The window was just as he’d left it, and carefully pushing it up he climbed inside, hastily stripped, and was stuffing his clothes into his bag when he heard voices; they didn’t sound friendly. He hurriedly dug out his long gray nightgown, swiftly retrieved his disguise, then donned the wig, beard, and eyebrows. It was a haphazard job, but he could heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Yanking out the small piece of wood wedged under the door, he turned the key to unlock the latch, and moving quickly back to the cot, he crawled under the blanket. Seconds later he heard Rose’s voice protesting the intrusion into her peaceful boarding house.
“He’s a catholic priest, I tell you. He went to bed early with a migraine. He’s frail, he’s no…” but before she could finish, the men had pushed open the door.
Tucker had pulled the blanket halfway up his body so the nightgown would show, and he let out a heavy snoring sound.
“See, I told you,” Rose declared. “A catholic priest fast asleep.”
“And I told you,” the ruffian said gruffly, “we’ve gotta check out all the boardin’ houses and hotels. Hey, holy man!”
Tucker felt a hand on his shoulder, and rolling over, he squinted up at the stranger leaning over him.
“What? Is something wrong?” he asked in a sleepy Irish brogue.
Tucker's Justice (Wild West Cowboys Book 1) Page 6
