Daisy hopped out of the wagon and went in search of a switch. She’d take care of this once and for all. As she walked toward a small copse of trees, she saw Clara and Margie walking back toward the wagon, their arms full of kindling. Daisy strode up to them, ripping a handful of twigs out of the shocked Clara’s arms and marched back angrily toward the wagon, shouting as she went, “I’ll teach them some manners, if no one else can!”
The next thing Daisy felt was a hand on her shoulder turning her around. “Just who are you talking about? And who are you going to teach manners?”
It was Clara.
“Those damn little hellions of yours! I found them in the wagon looking through my bag for my ring. Apparently, you don’t know how to raise mannerly children. But I’ll show you how.”
Daisy pulled her shoulder from Clara’s firm grip and turned back toward the wagon. In the next moment, a harsh yank on her hair brought her down to the ground and Daisy found herself staring up at the sky — with Clara sitting on top of her! She quickly rolled with Clara until Daisy was sitting on top. Margie had run over to the fight, pulling and shoving both of them, trying to break the fight up, but they kept rolling in the dirt, hitting each other in the face, slapping, scratching, and screaming. A cloud of dust kicked up, and soon several women from the Widow Wagon as well as other wagons had come to watch.
Clara, enraged like an angry mama bear, snatched up one of the twigs and with little difficulty pushed up Daisy’s skirts, yanking down her peach pantaloons. Clara lit into Daisy’s bare backside with that switch, strike after strike. Each strike stung like a fire, until the whole of her bottom felt completely on fire. Daisy writhed on the ground, trying to crawl away on her belly, but Clara held her by her hair and continued her assault on her bottom. She yelped and cried for help and for this switching to end. No one answered her pleas. She’d begun to believe that this would never end.
“You will not touch my children. I told you before that I’d switch you before I’d let you touch a hair on their head.” With a renewed vigor.
“I won’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll leave them alone! Ow! Ow! Stop! Please!” Daisy tried covering her bottom but a couple painful strikes to the backs of her hands deterred her from trying to protect her abused flesh that way.
Their blood-curdling screeches doubtless alerted all the men, including Angus and Sam to the scene. The sound of men shouting made the spectators scurry away, allowing the men to intervene. Sam heaved Daisy from Clara’s back, roughly hauling her up to her feet. Thankfully, her skirts now covered her bottom, but the fabric stuck to fiery welts that felt as if they were bleeding. She didn’t care how many people were watching though, as she rubbed her bottom, sobbing angrily. Angus pulled Clara up too, ripping the switch out of her hand and giving her a rough shake. She stopped resisting immediately.
Sam swatted Daisy’s bottom. “Now ya did it! You’re gonna both get a good whippin’ tonight. Angus won’t let this go — you wait and see.”
Daisy didn’t even respond, for the first time in a long time, words escaping her. She had no comeback, consumed only with the burning pain.
How am I going to tolerate another switching? Besides, this is Nellie and Rose’s fault — and their damn mother. I’ll just work on Angus and make him see the truth of the situation.
Angus stood between the women. “Let her go, Sam! Now, what in tarnation is going on here? I left for only a few minutes and you damn hellcats tore the place up, by the looks of it. Daisy, I’m assuming this is your fault, so I’m going to let Clara speak first.”
“What? That ain’t fair! I’m supposed to be innocent until proven guilty!” Daisy lunged forward again, but Angus grabbed her arm, holding her fast.
“This ain’t a court of law! Here — on the Oregon Trail, and on the Widow Wagon — I’m the law! Now, you just stand there, and shut up!” He leveled her with a stare that made her insides flip, and she decided that being quiet at that point was the best course of action.
Angus turned to Clara with only a slightly less angry glare. “Speak! Now!”
Clara cleared her throat. “Well, Sir. I’d been gathering kindling for the fire tonight, like I was asked to. I came back to have Daisy running over to me, ripping a handful of twigs out of my arms and yelling that she would show me how to teach my kids manners. And then she stomped off toward the wagon.” Clara looked over at her girls huddled next to the Widow Wagon, both of them crying.
Angus followed her line of vision and crooked his forefinger toward them. “You girls come over here! I’m going to wanna hear your side too.”
Holding each other’s hands, the two girls slowly walked over to their mom, giving Daisy a wide berth. Angus nodded toward Clara again. “Keep goin’. Tell us how this turned into a cat fight?”
“I asked her what she meant by that statement, who she was going to teach manners. She said she meant my girls.” Clara glanced at her daughters, then continued. “Well, I had told her just this morning that I wouldn’t let that happen. I done told you the same thing, Sir. And, well, for better or worse, I’m a woman who keeps her word. I decided that it was time to teach her a lesson — and I gave her a switching.” Clara shot a fierce look in Daisy’s direction.
Angus reached out, pinching Clara’s chin between his fingers. “And I believe I told you what would happen if you did that, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“All right. You know what to expect tonight then.” He spread his legs, putting his hands on his hips, making his spurs jangle. “Now, it’s your turn, Disobedient Daisy. I’m kinda anxious to hear your twist on this.”
“I don’t have a twist on anything, Sir.” Daisy pursed her lips and lifted her chin in defiance. “I have the truth!”
“Daisy, I suggest you fix your tone, or we’ll go straight to punishments.”
Daisy could tell by the clench of his jaw and the determination in his eyes that he meant every word. “Okay. I went to get a shawl against the evening air and when I entered the wagon, those little hellions were in there rooting through my bag. I bet they would’ve stolen it too! I caught the brats just in time.” Daisy stopped talking long enough to point at Clara. “And if you want to know what their problem is, look at their mama! She attacked me! Grabbed me from behind, pulled me onto the ground by my hair, and beat me with a stick!”
Angus pushed his weather worn brown Stetson up off his forehead and gave Daisy an astonished look. “Because you were going to beat her girls with that same stick! My God, woman. I’m not supporting what she did, but you most definitely asked for it — especially since you were told by not only her, but also by me that you were not to lay a hand on either one of them.”
Daisy put her hands on her hips. “But you also told her she couldn’t switch me either!”
“That I did, and we’ll discuss that in a minute.” He turned toward the little girls, Nellie and Rose. “Now, Nellie you knew better than to be in Miss Daisy’s bag. You were told that earlier today too, right?”
“Yes, Sir. But I was just showing Rose how pretty it was. Honest. I wasn’t going to do nothin’ bad with the pretty ring.” Nellie looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “We just wanted to see it.”
A hint of a smile played along Angus’s lips. “It is a pretty ring, I’m sure. And if you wanted to see it, all you had to do was ask Miss Daisy.”
Nellie’s eyebrows scrunched up. “But she would’ve said no. I’m pretty sure.”
At that, Angus laughed. “Well, you’re probably right about that.” He scowled at Daisy. “She is pretty ornery. But that’s her decision, not yours. Understand? You don’t decide to do something just because the answer is going to be no if you ask. You have to respect her decision. And you knew she’d say no — which means you shouldn’t have gone through the bag. I’ll leave it up to your ma on what the punishment should be for both of you. But I’d recommend going to bed right after dinner for the next week.”
Both girls started to silently c
ry, looking down at the ground. It’d be a rough punishment. The girls were stuck in the wagon all day, and looked forward to getting out to play and run in the evenings.
“Now, let’s deal with the big girls here.” Angus reached down and grabbed a couple green twigs, swishing them through the air. The whistling sound made Daisy shiver. “These’ll do nicely, I believe.”
Then he stepped toward them.
Chapter 4
Daisy swallowed — the sound of the switch was formidable and it made her stinging buttocks clench at the sound. She didn’t understand how Angus thought it made sense to give her another switching.
“Y-you can’t mean me. I mean I’ve already been switched — wrongly I might add.” She glanced at Clara before looking at Angus once more. “ I can’t have that again!”
“First, you don’t tell me what you can, and can’t do. Second, what Miss Clara did to you is of no concern to me — but it’ll be of great concern to Clara.” He shot an evil grin Clara’s way. Daisy felt satisfaction at the fear that crossed Clara’s face, at the way she cupped her bottom through her dress and looked around at all the women and men watching.
But that satisfaction didn’t last long.
“Yep. All these men and women are going to see you both get your tails tanned. This is what happens when you get a bur under your saddle and cause a ruckus, like y’all did. They deserve to see you pay for breaking the rules and disrupting their quiet evening around the campfire.”
Daisy opened her mouth to speak, but Angus cut her off. “Uh-uh, I’m not listening to it. Your husband and I will be having a discussion when we meet him at Courthouse Rock. I hope he’s made of stern stuff. Keeping you in order is going to take a firm hand and a strong spirit.”
How could this be happening? Daisy knew she’d never be able to handle more of the switch. Her bottom still stung, and had begun to itch. She didn’t have to look to know she was bleeding. Daisy didn’t mean to cause trouble — it just seemed to follow her wherever she went.
Will Noah decide to abandon me at Courthouse Rock? I can’t live there alone with no family…
With the screech of a rusty hinge, Angus lowered the wagon’s back gate until it was parallel with the ground, the chains jingling as he fastened them to each side, securing the gate so that it jutted out from the back of the wagon like a flat bench. In any other situation, it would’ve made a fine spot to sit.
Then he draped a blanket over the edge, looking over at Daisy. “C’mere, girl.”
Daisy just stared at him. He couldn’t possibly mean her.
He crooked his long finger at her slowly, beckoning her. Daisy knew she should move, but instead she shook her head.
Angus exhaled loudly and wiped the sweat off his brow with his brawny forearm. “I’m not gonna say it again. Come. Here. Girl.” His hand patted the back gate.
By some sheer force of will, Daisy slowly made her way to him, a sob escaping her lips. “But, Angus… I’m already gushing blood. I’m raw.”
His deep belly laugh echoed across the prairie. “I saw that little behind of yours, and I’m sure it’s sore with all the red and pink stripes you have all over it — but there ain’t a speck of blood. It appears Miss Clara is pretty adept at giving a switching without breaking the skin. And I won’t be breaking your skin either. I’m sure it’ll hurt like the dickens, but many a woman has survived worse.”
He grabbed her arm, pulling her closer, and before she could react, he picked her up by the waist, planting her on her belly over the back gate, her legs hanging down toward the ground. Daisy violently struggled to break free of his grasp and jump down.
Angus put a hand on her backside, holding her still. “Stop trying to get off the wagon! If you come down from there, I’ll use two switches on you. I’m pretty sure one will be more than you want. I’d stop fighting ‘cause if you fall off — on purpose, or by mistake — the consequence is the same.”
She definitely didn’t want two switches so she stilled her thrashing. It was no use — she’d have to suffer another punishment. All of this for protecting the ring from her dead husband! It all seemed so unfair.
Angus’ rough hands pushed her dress and skirts up over her back. The evening air warm over her exposed bottom and sex, confirming that she’d lost her pantaloons too — somehow. Somewhere. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the people gathering near the wagon to watch her switching. She clenched the blanket in her hands. Another unmerited injustice. Her anger rose and she grit her teeth; there was no way she would cry out in front of these people. She’d hold it in, no matter what. A gentle breeze blew, cool on her hot, welted bottom. Her pussy wept though, betraying her confused emotions.
Why? Why would my quim be so wet?
She shifted her hips on the edge of the blanket-covered wood and felt her nether lips slide together, slick with her juices. The press of her pubic bone on the hard edge made her clit throb. Before she could contemplate her arousal, she heard the switch slicing through the air, lashing against her tender flesh.
She clenched her teeth, gripping the blanket tightly in her hands. She refused to give them a show. But Angus had started with a rhythm, and like a metronome, the switch slashed steadily, over and over again, until the sting and burn of the resultant wheals overwhelmed all other conscious thought. Forgotten were the men, women, and children watching. Forgotten was her promise to herself not to shout. She soon realized that the noise she heard was her own voice, her own cries and screeches.
She let out a louder shout, sobbing as her skirts scraped over her scratched and striped flesh. “I’m just preserving your dignity, girl. Stay here for a bit and get yourself under control again.” He lightly rubbed her back until her breathing came back to normal. The hitching in her back and sporadic gasps sounded harsh in the eerie silence that had descended on the camp.
“C’mon, girl. Let’s get you up.” He grabbed her by the waist and lowered her on the ground. “Now, I want you to stand over here. I’m going to deal with Miss Clara now. No. Rubbing!”
He crooked his finger at Clara.
“Angus, my girls.” Clara’s eyes were silently pleading with him.
Angus looked at her little girls, and realized that he needed to seclude them away from their mother’s switching. “Girls, I think it’s time for you to start your punishment. No playing or campfire. Off to bed you go. I don’t want to hear another sound out of either off you, ya hear? You get your nighties on and go right to sleep. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” they both mumbled, quiet tears running down their faces as they obediently climbed up into the wagon.
Angus grabbed Clara’s arm and brought her to the front of the wagon rather than the back, still in view of the women, men, and other trail riders.
“Thank you, Angus.”
“My goal is to punish you, not to break your spirit — or theirs. They’ll more than likely hear you, but at least they won’t have to see it.” He gently turned her to face the wagon. “Undo your drawers and take them off. You won’t be putting them back on tonight.”
Her back trembled, and silently she nodded her head, resigned to her fate. Her shaking hands lifted her skirt and fumbled with the ties, letting the pantaloons glide softly down her legs. She slipped her feet out of them one at a time, and bent over to pick them up, unsure what to do with them. Angus plucked them from her hand, laying them on the front bench.
“Put your hands on the rungs of the wheel in front of you and keep them there.” He sighed loudly. “I sure hate to do this to you. But I specifically warned you. I ain’t got no choice — you earned this, fair and square. I’ll make sure it’s over fast, but it’ll be harsh. I want everyone to learn a lesson on this trail.”
He pulled her long black skirt up, laying it high over her back. Clara’s milky white bottom came into view, pristine and unmarked for now. Gooseflesh rose on Clara’s trembling buttocks, and Angus patted her hip, whispering something to her. He stepped away then, and swung the swi
tch, the swishing sound making Daisy flinch in sympathy with Clara. A bright red line rose on Clara’s flesh, the woman pulling her skirt up and shoving some of the cloth in her mouth to prevent her from shouting out and upsetting her girls further.
“You keep those skirts up, girl. You don’t want to let them get in my way.”
Angus swung in a steady rhythm, swinging forward and backward to even out the lashes. He would stop every few strokes to let her recover and catch her breath. The trembling in her legs soon shook her whole body.
“This switch is done, girl. Now we’ll use the other one.” He scooped up the fresh twig, whipping it through the air a couple times. “Your backside looks like Daisy’s did when I rescued her. Now, we’ll get to the rest of your punishment.”
Daisy knew how her own bottom felt — and Clara’s looked awful. As mad as she was at her, a part of her felt bad, especially since her children were in the wagon, no doubt listening and quietly crying. They’d done wrong — all of them — but they’d paid the price with their flesh.
“Angus, S-sir,” Daisy said in a quiet, wavering voice, not quite able to keep eye contact with him, her eyes repeatedly drawn to the switch.
Angus raised his eyebrows at her.
“M-maybe she’s had enough, Sir. I m-mean we’re all sore, and I think we’ve all learned our lesson, I th-think. And Nellie and Rose are crying and...” She stopped her pleas, unsure what else could be said to stay his hand.
Angus’ dark eyes narrowed. “Is that so? You think you’ve all learned a lesson? Who decides when a punishment is over — the punished, or the punisher?”
“Well — S-sir, I guess that’d be you. But I’m just s-sayin’—”
He put his hand up to stop any further discussion on the matter. “No. No more. I decide, period. I guess you’re just the type of woman who needs to get her tail tanned daily to bring out the sweetness locked inside somewhere. Looks like the switch not only made your backside tender, but your heart too. I definitely need to have a discussion with your future husband.”
More Than She Bargained For (The Widow Wagon Book 2) Page 4
