Maybe, With Conditions

by Mariella Starr

  She closed her eyes for a few seconds. "Will you stop spanking me?"

  "No. Not if you've earned it. Part of my job as your man is to look after you. I know you have a temper and you can be stubborn. The bottom line is your ass belongs to me along with the rest of you. Marriage or not, nothing changes those principles. Can you accept a marriage based on the principles of domestic discipline?"

  "I don't know if I can," Nicole said honestly. "I need more time to figure it out. I do love you, Dalton. However, I'm not sure I can accept getting my backside walloped every time you're mad at me as a condition of marriage."

  "Fair enough. Will you agree to stay here and try to give our relationship a fair shake?"

  "Yes, I will," agreed Nicole. "Will you try not whacking my backside every time I screw up or displease you?"

  Dalton rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "I'll think about it, but with your short fuse, I won't make any promises I can't keep."

  * * *

  Nicole dashed downstairs running a bit late. She was excited about her morning class and its guest speaker. After her class was over, she was going to pick up her brand new Honda Pilot SUV at the local mechanic's shop in Hawthorne. As she skidded into the kitchen, she interrupted an argument going on between Kay, Roy Mac, and Helen.

  "Oh, sorry," she exclaimed and quickly exited to the back porch. She found Dalton there leaning against the railing drinking a cup of coffee.

  "Are they still going at it?" he asked.

  "If you mean yelling, yes, they are. Although, they stopped for a moment when I came through," Nicole said helping herself to a couple of swallows from his coffee cup. "Are you sure you can't take me to Hawthorne today?"

  Dalton shook his head. "The insurance adjusters are coming by today to assess the damages. They didn't give me an exact time. It could be morning or late afternoon. You would miss your class."

  "I already know the material, so it wouldn't be a great loss," Nicole admitted. "Will Roy Mac and Helen let Kay continue with her courses?"

  "As you told me several times, it's not my business," Dalton said with a quirky smile. "I'm steering clear of it, and she is nineteen. If they ride her too hard, she might quit altogether and there wouldn't be anything they could do about it."

  Kay slammed out of the house with her book bag flung over her shoulder. "Are you ready?"

  Nicole nodded, gave Dalton a quick kiss, and followed the young woman to the jeep.

  Kay didn't waste any time leaving the ranch.

  "Are you okay?" Nicole asked.

  "Yes. Mom and Dad aren't real happy with me at the moment, but I'm not real happy with them, either!"

  "Will they let you see Mark?"

  "Yes, although Dad says he wants to have a man-to-man talk with Mark. Why can't they leave us alone?"

  "Because they care," Nicole answered honestly.

  Kay nodded. "I know, but Mom and Dad want me to bring Mark out here for dinner and their so-called talk. I don't want them ganging up on him! Besides, Mark thinks I have their approval for us to date."

  "I hope you didn't lie to him," Nicole said.

  "Not exactly," Kay admitted. "I sort of implied Mom and Dad were okay with our dating."

  Nicole glanced at the girl's worried face, but she didn't ask any further questions. She had told Dalton to butt out of Kay's business. She couldn't very well get involved herself.

  "I won't need a ride home this afternoon. My new SUV was delivered to Rawley's. All I have to do is find the place, sign the invoice, and it's mine!"

  "Rawley's is only about four blocks from the school. It's not as if you can get lost in Hawthorne."

  After her class, Nicole got the directions to the mechanic's shop and walked down the street to take possession of her new Honda. Dalton's wrecked truck was in the parking lot behind the repair shop looking sadly beat-up, but she didn't see any signs of him or the insurance people.

  She drove off the lot feeling excited and fiddling with the knobs on the stereo.

  When her phone rang, she pulled over into a small shopping mall to take the call. It was Dick Chambers in Reno. Her work was receiving rave reviews and he wanted to know when the next pieces would be finished. He also suggested she have a showing in his gallery. She explained how she had only recently moved to the area and her finished work was in a storage unit back east. She agreed to have her paintings shipped to her as soon as possible. Chambers considered a storage unit full of her work good news and asked her to call him when her work arrived.

  Nicole decided to buy a bottle of wine to celebrate. Her relationship with Dalton was settling down into a calmer phase where they weren't arguing as much. Now, her career was taking an upswing. It was important she reestablish her reputation as an artist in the nearby communities.

  She parked her new car, playing with the key fob, and went inside the liquor store to find the wine Dalton had ordered in Reno. Unfortunately, they didn't carry it.

  "This is for a celebration, what would you suggest?" she asked the proprietor.

  He showed her several wines describing them to her. She rarely drank more than a single glass because it went straight to her head. He could have been speaking Greek for all she knew.

  "Pick out something similar, I wouldn't know one from another," she laughed.

  "Aren't you the girl who won the jackpot on the big machine at Peppermill a couple weeks ago?" the man asked. "You're staying out at Dalton's place, right?"

  Nicole was startled by his recognition and hesitated to answer. It was the first time anyone had recognized her from the picture in the Reno paper.

  "Oh, don't worry," exclaimed the man. "I'm Clark Barker, the owner of this store and a friend of Dalton's. I've sunk several hundred dollars into that Jackpot machine and never won a plug nickel. How much did you lose before you hit it big?"

  "I didn't," Nicole said. "I won over a hundred dollars on a penny slot machine and cashed out. I had only put a single twenty-dollar bill in the Jackpot machine when all the bells and whistles went off."

  The man shook his head and laughed. "Lucky you!" He selected a bottle of wine and slid it into a paper bag. "This is one of Dalton's favorites. I heard you were living on the Double C. Not much stays a secret in this town. Tell Dalton the Saturday night poker game is still on at the firehouse. He hasn't come in for a while. Now, I know why. If I had a pretty little thing like you at home, I wouldn't waste my time on stag poker games, either."

  Nicole smiled at the man's teasing. She glanced out the window and saw Barbara Ruiz and a man walking from the bank.

  "Mr. Barker, do you know those two people?" she asked.

  He turned to look.

  "That's Dalton's ex-wife, but I reckon you know about her. I never liked her myself. She thought she was better than most people around here. She didn't stick around long. Can't say as I know the guy, although I might've seen him around a couple times. He must be new in town. Either that or he doesn’t drink, so he’s not been a customer."

  "Thank you. I was only curious," Nicole answered. She finished her business and admired her new SUV as she crossed the parking lot. No one noticed those same two people as they came into view, again. The man handed a small cardboard box to the woman.

  * * *

  Nicole patiently picked up a tube of paint off the floor and gently chided Matty. She was trying to work, putting finishing touches on a bold, proud Native American. It was one of her original paintings. She wasn't under commission to do it but was sure it would sell. Matty was in the studio with her, as was Dalton, who was watching her. She was used to her son being around while she worked. Dalton was more of a distraction, especially because he continually cast disapproving looks in her direction.

  Matty was misbehaving. Kay was hardly ever home anymore to babysit. Helen and Roy Mac had left the ranch earlier in the morning for a doctor's appointment in Carson City.

  Matty giggled and Nicole turned to see him opening brand new tubes of paint. She put down her brush and struggle
d to remove the paint tubes from his hands. Matty was going through a rebellious stage lately and chose to ignore her more often than not. When she told him to behave, his temper tantrums ended in pouting sessions and sometimes deliberately violent actions.

  She knew Dalton was watching her interaction with their son and was wearing his I don't approve expression. They'd had an argument only the day before about discipline, or rather her lack of it when dealing with their son. Dalton believed Matty needed a firmer hand, but Nicole was adamantly against it. She felt her son needed to be able to express himself at this age. Dalton point blank said her view was crap. The boy needed to learn to behave and mind.

  Dalton watched, hard-pressed to keep his mouth shut because he wasn't pleased. As soon as Nicole turned her attention back to painting, Matty was rifling through her supplies, again. In the ten-minute break, he had taken to see what progress she was making on her painting, their son had destroyed some of her supplies. When Nicole scolded Matty, the child ignored her.

  When Matty reached for a brush, he knocked over the jar full of brush cleaner, which spread over the surface of her worktable.

  "Oh no," Nicole exclaimed reaching for rags to mop up the liquid.

  Dalton stepped into the fray and moved her painting out of the range of possible danger. Then, he lifted Matty off his feet and carried him to the opposite side of the studio. He squatted down to the boy's level and looked him square in the eye.

  "Matthew Mackenzie, I have had enough," he said firmly. He turned his son to face the corner. "Your mother told you several times to settle down. Now, you have messed up her work area. You will stand with your nose in this corner and think about how wrong it is to disobey your momma. Stand right there. Don't think you're coming out of that corner until I decide you've had enough corner time."

  Matty let out a wail of distress. "Mommy!"

  Nicole dropped what she was doing to spin around in time to see Dalton giving the boy a light pat on his bottom. "What have you done to him?"

  Dalton took her by the arm and pulled her from the studio into the small room she used as an office. He closed the door partway behind them so his son wouldn't hear their conversation.

  "How dare you hit him?" She tried to yank the studio door fully open.

  "Settle down. I didn't. I barely gave him a tap. He's in the corner where he will stay for a few minutes. It won't damage him to learn to listen and to behave himself. Matty needs to learn what is acceptable behavior and what isn't. He has been acting like a spoiled brat, lately. Maybe now he will think twice about listening to you."

  Nicole turned and saw Matty standing very small and stiff with his face to the corner. He wasn't moving, but he was sniffling. "Look what you've done to him," she hissed angrily.

  "I haven't done anything to him! Nic, some kids are perfect angels. They can be pampered and spoiled, yet still turn out to be good children. Let's face it, Matty isn't one of them. He's turning into a little hellion. When you don't pander to his wants, he screams and has a fit. His brattish behavior isn't becoming to him or to us as his parents. If he isn't disciplined now when he needs it, I hate to think about what he will be like in a few years. He can't have everything he wants. It's not good for him and he's making you miserable."

  She moved to go to her son, but Dalton held onto her arm. "Don't you dare pamper him and ruin what little bit of good standing in the corner has taught him."

  "He needs me," she whispered. "He's not used to being…"

  "Being what?" Dalton demanded. "Disciplined? Told to behave and actually doing it? He has to learn accountability for his actions. I think he was getting some discipline under Mrs. O'Cleary's watch. He's not getting it from you and it's harming him in the long run."

  Nicole closed her eyes and leaned into Dalton. "I hate being mean to him. Dee Dee is so much better at controlling him."

  "Honey, you're not being mean. A certain amount of discipline is part of a child's life. At least, it should be."

  "I can't."

  "If you can't, I can. I'm his father and my word has to stand for something, too. We won't be doing him any favors by turning him into a brat."

  Nicole whirled around and ran from the studio.

  Dalton went over to his son and squatted down to his level. "Matty, are you ready to behave?"

  Matty turned his tear-stained face around and nodded going into Dalton's arms as he cried. "I'm sorry, I won't be bad anymore!"

  "You need to tell your momma you are sorry for misbehaving," Dalton warned. "After you apologize, I want you to take a nap. You will feel better after a nap, okay?"

  The boy nodded again and swiped his arm over his eyes. "Okay."

  Dalton took his son to the house and straight to their bedroom where he presented the child to Nicole, who looked as if she had been crying, too. Matty apologized, after which they sent the boy to his room.

  Dalton sat on the edge of the bed. "Was that so awful?"

  Nicole glared at him and shook her head before more tears swelled in her eyes.

  "Honey, Matty is five years old. He has to learn to listen. You saw him in your studio. Standing in the corner for a couple minutes isn't exactly torture. He might've even learned if he doesn't listen and behave, there'll be consequences."

  "I know, but it's so hard," she admitted. "I'll go talk to him."

  "He's probably asleep by now."

  "I'll have to stay in the house with him until he wakes up from his nap," Nicole said. "Can you babysit for a few minutes while I clean up the studio and put away my supplies?"

  Dalton took a deep breath of exasperation. "Nic, Matty is my son. It's not babysitting when it's your kid. It's parenting."

  She nodded in agreement and then they both turned when they heard a car horn blaring outside.

  Dalton went to the window and frowned. "Stay inside," he ordered abruptly.

  "Who is it?"

  "Barbara," Dalton snapped, his entire demeanor changing as he left the room.

  Nicole peered through the window from behind the curtains. Barbara Ruiz got out of the car but she walked out of sight under the porch roof. Only a year or two older than Nicole, Barbara's years hadn't been kind to her. She was only on the high side of her twenties, but her beauty pageant looks were fading. She was bone thin. Although she might have considered herself regal or chic, sometimes thin was too thin. She was brittle and hard looking. There wasn't anything soft about her appearance.

  Nicole opened the window slightly trying to listen to the conversation on the porch, but she couldn't distinguish the actual words. The tone of voices indicated anger. From what she'd heard about their short-lived marriage, anger was to be expected. The voices got louder. Dalton's deep voice carried, but she still couldn't make out the words clearly. Nicole ran down the stairs and opened the front door slightly.

  "What do you want?" Dalton demanded.

  "Can't you be the least bit civil?" Barbara asked. "I heard in town there have been some problems out here at the ranch and I was concerned."

  "Bullshit," Dalton growled. "You don't know what civility means, let alone how to be decent! What are you doing here?"

  "It's a free country. I can go anywhere I please."

  "Not on private property, you can't. I've warned you before you aren't welcome at the Double C. Do I need to get a restraining order again to keep you away? I'm sure Judge Crawford could have it issued in a few hours."

  "It amazes me how frightened you are of me," Barbara cooed.

  Dalton barked out a disgusted laugh. "Very funny. You can't do anything to embarrass me, again. You only shame yourself. I think you're pathetic. Now, get off my property."

  "I'm here to give you fair warning," Barbara said. "I think a judge will reconsider my settlement when he discovers you're living with a woman and had a child by the same woman when you were still married to me. I'll blast the news of your illegitimate kid in every newspaper in the state."

  "Are you delusional? We don't live in the turn of the c
entury. No one gives a damn about stuff like that nowadays. It's old news. Besides, Nic was pregnant before you told all your lies. Remember, Barbara, you were a bigamist who wasn't entitled to a settlement. Stay out of my business and stay away from us," Dalton growled. "You lost. You won't get another cent out of me."

  "My lawyer says different," she snipped at him. "If you give me what I want now, we can avoid all the nasty personal secrets that might wind up in the newspapers. I might keep my mouth shut."

  "No deal. I'm not important enough for any newsperson to bother with, and I don't give a damn about gossip. Pay your lawyer whatever he demands. It won't make a difference to you in the courts." He pulled out his phone. "By the way, this conversation was recorded. What you're doing is called extortion. I might call Judge Crawford for his opinion."

  Barbara turned on her heels returning to her car. "You're going to pay," she threatened before she drove away spinning the driveway gravel all over the lawn.

  "God, she's a bitch," Nicole said coming out the door.

  "Eavesdropping?"

  "How else will I find out what's going on. You won't tell me, " Nicole complained.

  "She's blowing hot air. She's been doing this at least twice a year since the judge gave her the settlement. She has tried to sue me three times. Each time, the case was dismissed before it reached a courtroom. I'm surprised she found another shyster to take her case. She must owe a small fortune to several ambulance chasers. Don't worry about it. She's been a pain in my ass for the last five years. I'll take care of it, again."

  Chapter Twelve

  Kay stood in front of the full-length mirror turning this way and that. "Are you sure I look okay?"

  "You're beautiful," Nicole said with a smile. "I always wanted to be tall. Do I pass muster? I've never had many clothes and my wardrobe is especially limited here."

  "Why don't you make Dalton take you on a shopping trip? He can afford it."

  "I really don't need anything. I have lived in jeans for years. Besides, I don't want him paying for my clothes. I still feel guilty over wrecking his truck."