“Oh, Angus! Jesus!” She growled, her body stiffening. Then she screamed for the second time with her release, and squeezed him hard, his strangled shout from behind gritted teeth heralding his own orgasm overtaking him. He pounded into her, flooding her with every last drop of his come.
“Jesus, Clara!” He dropped his head into her neck, trying to catch his breath while she lightly stroked his back with those dainty, silken hands, easing him back to reality.
“Do you think you may like having sex with your husband, Mrs. Warren?”
“Lord Jesus, I may never let you drive a wagon again.” She opened her eyes. “So this is why women do this for a living?”
She chooses this time to talk about… whores?
“I think there are several other reasons other than that. But, I suppose. I don’t want you letting your mind wander that way. Do you understand me?”
He may have created a monster.
“Angus! I’d never in a million years think of that. It’s just… it makes more sense now that I know it can be so wonderful.”
“I’m just happy you enjoyed it. Now, go to sleep.” He gave her a grin. “I’ll have you up again soon enough.”
Chapter Eleven
Clara woke with a dull ache in her nether regions, a not unpleasant reminder of the active night she’d had with Angus. He’d been relentless, allowing her sleep for an hour or two and then ravishing her body until they would collapse into blissful sleep again.
She sat up, realizing that he wasn’t in bed with her. The clanking of tin cups and pots could be heard outside the tent, and the heat in the tent was already stifling. How long had she been sleeping? Could it be that late in the day?
No, the girls would’ve woken her up by now.
She stood up, feeling the twinge in her quim, the tender tissues swollen from all the attention from her new husband. She found a pitcher of water and a basin, pouring the water into it and using the soap to take a quick bird bath before starting her day.
Angus came into the tent, full of energy and raucous as usual. “You’re up. Morning, beautiful!”
“Morning, Angus.” Looking over her shoulder, she covered her breasts with the towel.
“What do we have here? Looks like I got here just in time.” He winked at her, turning her to face him. “They look neglected. Poor babies.” He pouted at her.
“Angus, we don’t have time for such foolishness. Besides, aren’t you worn out?” She tried pushing him away, but she might as well have tried to move a mountain.
“Don’t push me away, woman. I’m playing with my girls.” He leaned down, pulling a soft peach-colored nipple into his mouth, her flesh tightening instantly, her hips thrusting in response. She leaned against his thigh, rubbing upon him like a cat in heat.
“God, Angus,” she said, sighing, closing her eyes as she tried to steel her willpower, to resist her insatiable need for more. “We have… things to do today besides this.”
“We’re on our honeymoon — kind of,” he said between deep sucking upon her nipples. “The women are watching the girls for us and we have another day before we leave for Soda Springs. So, I can tie you up in here for a whole twenty-four hours before we have to leave.”
“Angus! The women will be talking.” She tried unsuccessfully again to move him away.
“Angus, Clara? It’s Margie.” The woman’s sweet voice rang out from the other side of the weather-roughened canvas. “I’m taking the girls to the mercantile with me. I need to purchase a few items. I just wanted you to know where they were.”
Clara gasped, throwing the towel over her bare breasts. “Thank you, Margie. We’ll be over soon.”
They both waited until they were sure she had left before daring to speak. “See, Angus? We need to leave this tent. Besides, the girls haven’t seen me yet today.”
“Relax, sweetheart. No one is talking, and I sat with the girls for breakfast and we played marbles before I came in here to find my sexy wife showing off her wares.”
“I was doing no such thing! Lord, you’ll have the women thinking I’m some sort of trollop, just like Minnie said.”
His hand shot out and swatted her back end so hard — and so loudly — that she had no doubt everyone outside the tent could hear. The skin on her bottom was sore from his frequent attention last night with his slapping and swatting, the blow reigniting the ache in her buttocks.
“You’ll never be a trollop, and I won’t tolerate you talking about yourself in such a manner.” He squeezed her chin between his fingers. “We can turn this into a serious punishment if you don’t heed my warning.”
“That’s… not necessary.”
The last thing she wanted was another punishment from this man. Once was enough for her.
“That’s my girl.” He patted her backside gently. “Get dressed. We’ll go see your girls. I’ll plunder your body later.” He laughed and exited the tent, finally allowing her some privacy.
* * *
Angus held Clara’s hand, much to her chagrin. She still wasn’t fully comfortable with being openly affectionate toward him. She’d need to work on that. He liked to hold and touch his woman — often — and she would have no choice but to get used to it.
They walked down the wooden sidewalk that ran along the storefronts of the trading post, saying hello and thanking the passersby for their well wishes. The people of the town were friendly and open, and Angus found himself thinking that it wouldn’t be a bad place to start a family. But he had a home in Missouri. He wondered where Clara might want to settle. He’d been to the Oregon Territory many times, and liked it. Perhaps she would decide that the beautiful mountains out West would make a great home.
Just as they neared the mercantile, Margie came rushing down the steps with, dragging Rose behind her. “You just wait until I tell your Ma — and your new pa — what you’ve done. What were you thinking, Rose? What?”
Letting go of his hand, Clara rushed forward, Angus fast on her heels. “What’s going on, Margie?” She scowled at Rose, then looking at Nelly with a questioning glare. “Did one of them do something wrong?”
“Oh, I was just going to find you two.” Margie let go of Rose’s hand and the little girl ran to her mother, burying her face in her skirts. “Yes. Rose here stole some marbles. I was looking at some ribbons and bonnets, when Nelly came up to me saying Rose took a red marble as well as a couple others.”
Angus couldn’t believe his ears. The girls had been so well behaved up until now. Rose disappointed him, but children did things like this — and they didn’t learn until situations like this arose.
Clara pulled Rose out of the tangle of her skirts, tilting her chin up. “You did what? You know to not take things that aren’t yours. What were you thinking, Rose?”
The tears tracked down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails. “I don’t know. The marble was so big and pretty, and we don’t have a red one like that. And I knew I didn’t have no money to buy it. I’m sorry.” Her little lip quivered and she broke into quiet sobs.
Angus knew that this would be part of his new role — husband and father. He stepped forward. “I’ll handle this, Clara.”
“No! This is my daughter. I’ll handle it.” She grabbed Rose’s arm, ready to walk away with her.
“I said I’ll handle it. I think it will be best if you wait until we’ve had a little talk.” He extricated Rose’s arm from Clara’s clutches, his wife shooting him a glare that he swore had sparks flying from it. “Girl, I suggest you listen to me on this.”
“I’m not sure I want to listen. You’ve only been a father for twenty-four hours, I know what’s best for my children. I don’t reckon I like you coming in and taking over like this.” Her hands were on her hips now, and passersby were staring.
Something Angus didn’t reckon he liked either.
He leaned forward, pulling her close, whispering in her ear. “I’m not taking over. You married me and gave me the right to be your husband — and a fat
her to your children. I’ve been a father to little girls before. I know how to handle them.” He pulled away slightly, but still stood almost nose-to-nose with her. “And I also know how to handle their mother when she acts like a child herself. So, if you want your little tail tanned to a lovely shade of red this evening, you just continue with this little rant you’ve got going. If not, then I suggest you go sit on a bench somewhere and wait until Rose and I have had our conversation.”
Her throat visibly worked to swallow, and although her teeth were still clenched showing her frustration, she nodded her head. “I guess I can sit with Margie over here and wait.”
“Good choice. Smart woman.” He pecked her on the cheek, turning his attention to Rose. “Little girl, looks like you and I are having a serious conversation about what you just did. We’ll go behind these buildings for some privacy.” He scooped her up into his arms, and she buried her head in his neck sobbing.
Angus hated this part of parenting. It broke his heart to hear those little cries, but true remorse and regret only occurred amidst tears. His common sense mind knew this but it was difficult nonetheless hearing her.
As they walked away, he heard Nelly beginning to cry too. “Is he going to paddle her with that paddle, Ma?”
“No!” Clara paused. “Well, I don’t think so. I don’t rightly know, but Mister Angus will know what to do. Now, Nelly, sit down and stop your dramatics.” Thankfully, Rose didn’t hear her or she might have become hysterical. He would never use a wooden paddle on a little girl — a young woman or her mother, yes, but never a child.
They rounded the building and just as he suspected, there were some wooden crates in the back. He sat down on one, setting her on his thigh. He used the pad of his thumb to wipe her tears away.
“Are you going to spank me?” Her eyes were big and bright as she peered up at him.
“I’m not sure yet. We know what you did. How about you tell me why you did it?” He made sure to keep a stern edge to his voice so she’d know he was upset, and how serious he took her misbehavior.
“I just wanted it. It’s so pretty. And—”
Angus interrupted her. “Do you have the red marble on you?”
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes again.
“Let me see it.” He held his palm out.
Her small, dainty hand reached into the pocket of her brown-patterned dress. She struggled to fish the marble out, finding it finally and presenting it for him to see. “Ain’t it pretty, Mister Angus?”
“It is. It’s very pretty — and big.” He held it up to the sunlight, letting the ruby-filtered light shine through. “It sure is nice.” They each admired it in his hand.
“That’s why I took it. It would look nice with the marbles we play with at night. And I wanted it to be mine.” She ran her forefinger over the smooth, red glass.
“Miss Margie said that you took more than one.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Where are the others?”
“I have them.” She tapped the pocket of her dress.
“Give them to me.”
Her lip quivered. She obviously wasn’t used to him being so stern with her, and he fought the urge to pull her against his chest and tell her that he wasn’t that angry, just disappointed. But it wouldn’t do her any good if he lessened the pain of this lesson.
She pulled out three marbles — yellow, an orange cat’s eye, and a lime green cat’s eye. “We don’t have none like these neither.”
“You’re right about that. They’re all special.” He closed his palm over them, putting them in his shirt pocket. “But you know to not steal, right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“But you took them anyway, even though you knew you would be in trouble if you were caught?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her little head dropped, her hands twisting in her lap.
“If your pa was still alive, what would happen today?” He tipped her head up, looking into her sad, blue eyes.
“He’d give me a spanking. I’m pretty sure.” She wiggled on his leg, squirming at the thought of it.
He nodded, letting the thought of that and a little worry settle into her. “Naughty girls get spankings — most days, anyway. But I think I know of something that’ll be worse than a spanking.”
Her eyes widened even further.
“I’m going to take you back to the mercantile. You’re going to walk up to the owner and tell him what you did, and give him back the marbles you stole. Then you won’t be allowed to play marbles for a whole week. You’ll have to watch Nelly and I play every night for seven days.”
“Oh, no!” She buried her face in his chest and started to cry. She loved playing marbles, even more than Nelly did, the boisterous girl enjoying any reason to be with him and to crawl around in the dirt. This would hurt him more than her though. Her little heart would be broken watching her sister, he had no doubt, but she would never know what a long week it’d be for him too.
He pulled her away, wiping her face with his handkerchief. “There are going to be more times in your life that you’ll see things and wish they were yours. You can’t just take them because you want them. Sometimes, you just have to wait for it to become yours.” He gently rubbed her back, calming her down. “You could’ve asked me to buy those marbles for you. I’m not saying I would’ve bought them, but you could’ve asked. Stealing or taking things that don’t belong to you is never right. When older people do it, they go to jail. When little girls and boys do it, they get in trouble with their parents. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I don’t want you to ever do that again. Next time, I may have to tan your bottom — and you don’t want that, do you?” He patted her backside as a warning.
“No, Sir. I don’t never want that to happen.”
He barely stifled his smile. She was just so damn adorable. Her hair was as bright as the sun, a smattering of freckles decorating her turned-up button nose. She had the same dimple in her cheek as her mother, the sight of it tugging Angus’ heartstrings.
“All right. No marbles for a week and you have to confess to the store owner. Once that’s all over, you’ll be my good girl again.” He lowered her on the ground, then stood, fishing the marbles out of his pocket and putting them into her little hand, closing her fingers over the top of them. “Those little marbles don’t seem worth all the trouble they caused you today, do they?”
“No, Mister Angus. I wish I’d never taken them.” She started to cry all over again. “I can’t play marbles all week?”
“No marbles for seven days. It’s a long time, but what you did was serious, my girl.” He scooped her up, walking back toward the mercantile. Clara and Nelly jumped up, running toward them, putting his hand up, halting them in their steps.
“Not yet. We have some business to attend to with the mercantile owner.” He walked up the stairs, still holding her in his arms, putting her down once they entered the store. “You know what to do.” He gave her a little nudge in the right direction.
She shuffled up to a counter taller than she was, and she reaching up, carefully setting down the marbles in front of the gentleman. “Sir. I t-took these pretty marbles... I mean, I stole these m-marbles.” She looked over at Angus who stood with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding at her to continue. “I’m giving them back, and I’m s-sorry. I won’t do it again, I p-promise.”
Angus interrupted. “Tell the man what your punishment is going to be, Rose.”
“I had to do this, and I won’t be able to play marbles for a whole seven days.” Her voice broke and she started to cry all over again. Angus strode over to her, lifting her up into his warm embrace.
The store owner nodded. “Seven days is a long time, little one. I’m sorry you did this too. I hope you learned your lesson.”
“Yes, Sir.” She didn’t even pick her head up, still crying into his shoulder as she spoke.
Angus believed in honor and respect. “Look at the man when you speak to him
, Rose.”
Her head jerked up at the harsh tone. “Yes, Sir. I learned. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you did. You’re forgiven.” The man then directed his next comments to Angus. “Thank you for bringing them back, and for doing the right thing. She seems like a very sorry little girl.”
Angus shook the man’s hand. “She is that, if she’s anything.”
He walked out and placed Rose into her mother’s waiting embrace. She held her close, Rose’s arms wrapped tightly around her neck.
Before Clara could ask any questions, Nelly piped up. “Did you use your paddle on Rose?”
“No, Nelly. I didn’t paddle her. I didn’t even spank her.” He rubbed little Rose’s back. “Tell your mother what happened.”
Her voice sounded so tiny, hiccups interrupting her words now. “I told him I took them c-cuz they were pretty and I wanted them to be m-mine. M-Mister Angus said I would go to jail if I was older.”
Damn, the things kids remember.
Clara glared at him, and he couldn’t think to do anything but shrug. He had said it — but not to make her worry she’d be thrown in jail at eight years old.
“And th-then he said I had to apologize to the m-man at the store. And then he—” She broke down into little heart-broken sobs, unable to speak another word.
“Angus, what did you do to my child?” Clara swayed with Rose in her arms, trying to soothe her.
“Don’t you talk to me like I’m a child, Clara. I took care of this. There ain’t nothing wrong with her but being upset about her punishment — as she should be. She stole something.” He nodded to Rose. “Tell your mother what your punishment is and stop some of that sobbing. Now.”
Rose took a deep breath, her little chest hitching as she tried to swallow some of her sobs. “H-he said that I c-can’t play m-marbles for sev-ven days!” She was shouting by the end, dissolving into tears all over again.
Cinch Your Saddle (The Widow Wagon Book 3) Page 9
