by Abbie Adams
Delaney buried her face into her arms and stayed face down over the boulder as Tripp slid out from under her. She was never going to look the man in the face again. She couldn't believe that he'd… it was unthinkable. She never wanted to remember it again.
He went to the river and came back again a few minutes later. She peeked at him through her messy locks as he came back toward her and reached for his belt.
"Don't be afraid but I have to let the others know I found you. I'm going to fire into the air," he said as he wrapped the gun belt around his waist and finished adjusting the holsters then she heard the click, and three shots. Even knowing they were coming she still jumped. As soon as he'd completed his task, he reached for her again. She clung to the stone, not wanting him to see her face, but she'd had no place to grab hold and he was much stronger.
"Come here, little ladybug. Let me wash your face." He turned her to stand before him and sat back against the rock once more. She would have grabbed the handkerchief but he held it out of her reach until she dropped her arms, then brought it back and wiped her eyes, then nose, just like a little girl. "That's better. Now come here."
She was more than happy to dive into his arms again when he held them open for her. He pulled her in tight and let her bury her face in his chest and finish having her cry. They didn't say anything other than the sweet coddling sounds meant to soothe he gave her which was silly after he'd been the one to punish her so thoroughly, but she would never say as much. She'd never admit she could feel his desire for her pressed against her thigh either.
"Do you need to go behind the bushes now? The horses have had a break; now we need to get back. Everyone will be worried." He helped her to stand again.
She nodded her head and looked for a good place to go.
"Need me to hold your skirt?"
She shook her head furiously, even though he seemed sincere and regretted not having that help a few minutes later as she tried to keep her skirts off the ground but still providing some modesty. The breeze on her seared backside was short-lived.
As if her mortification couldn't get any worse, when she was finished and came back to the small clearing and the rock, she found her drawers on the ground. The last thing Delaney wanted to do was put them back on. Just thinking about another layer of fabric holding in the heat of her blazing bum was enough to have her eyes welling again. She was trying to think of a place to hide them when Tripp held his hand out to her.
"I'll put them in my saddle bag for you." His voice wasn't mocking, his face nothing but matter of fact, so she handed them over quickly just to have them out of sight. She'd given no thought to the ride home until he brought it up. He was tying the big black horse to the saddle of the chestnut he'd ridden. "You're going to ride with me to give Sampson an easier ride home."
"I can't do that!" She imagined herself bouncing along on the horse's back behind his saddle and cupped her bottom. She'd bounce right off for sure.
"You can and you will. It's your own fault that my horse is over-tired, so if you have to be uncomfortable, you have no one to blame but yourself. Now get up there." He reached for her about the waist and turned her around to face the horse, lifting her into the saddle. She landed perfectly, even though it was excruciating to land on the hard leather seat with her battered and bruised backside. "Slide forward so I can get up there too."
She didn't see how it could possibly work but she slid up as far as she could, leaning forward into the horn. He swung up right behind her. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he lifted her so he could sink down into the saddle. She ended up sitting on his thighs more than the saddle.
"This is hardly proper, Marshal," she said against clenched teeth as she tried to settle against him.
"After our long night together that hardly matters right now, Diamond, but if you stay as stiff as a board, we'll both be a lot more uncomfortable than we need to be. It's a long ride. Try to relax." He lifted the reins and turned the horse back toward the road.
"Delaney," she muttered.
"I'm sorry?"
"My name is Delaney. I just wanted you to know." She didn't know why she'd said it. Probably because she'd never felt like a real gem, so she shouldn't have a gem name. Although, after last night, she might as well take up whoring because she couldn't very well claim innocence any longer.
"It's a pretty name, Delaney. Thank you for trusting me with it. Suppose you can remember to call me Tripp then?" His arm snaked around her middle, snugging her even closer yet, when she'd already felt the muscles of his abdomen and thick sinewy thighs beneath her. And she absolutely wasn't going to think about the hard member jutting out beneath her bottom or how nicely it had felt sliding in and out of her. Her face was either extremely burnt by the sun or she was still blushing in mortification.
She nodded as confirmation that she'd heard him. Then a hopeful thought came to her. "Since I'm not unescorted now, could we continue on toward Dry Creek? We've got to be almost there anyway." They were breaking free of the trees and she could see the road again.
"Almost there!" He gave a hearty guffaw. "You ain't went but a few minutes over three hours of about twelve."
"I rode all day! Not just three hours."
"I found you less than three and a half hours from Culpepper Cove, ladybug." She could feel his mirth in the low chuckles rumbling her back. "And we're not even close to prepared for the trip. I have some chicken and biscuits from Mrs. Bentley in my saddle pack for us to eat but nothing to sleep with but our saddle blankets. Besides, we need to get back where it's safe and I need to help find Shotgun Slick."
"But it's not safe for my sister. She must be with them and I'm afraid of what has happened to her. You heard what happened to that poor family and the wife… my sister has been missing for months. And you heard the cowboy say they were headed north. You have to help me find her, Tripp. It's your job."
"Well, I only learned this morning that the woman I'd heard was riding with the gang might be your sister. Look, I understand you're worried, but we can't just head out unprepared. I'll send a wire and see if I can get any more information, but right now we need to focus on the gang. And their last sighting was in the opposite direction." It was quiet for a few minutes aside from the clopping of the hooves, and the swishing of tails. Then he went on, "If she's with them, then we'll find her that much sooner. You should know, if she's working with them as we've heard, things won't go well for her."
"She won't be working with them. She's not an outlaw." Delaney resented that he could even consider that.
"Well, do you know something we don't? We have a long ride ahead of us, why don't you tell me what you know?"
***
Damaris pressed a damp cloth to her grossly swollen eye. Her lip was bleeding but she sucked it between her lips with another wince. The metallic taste giving her some kind of relief. The pain in her jaw helped her not to think of the bruises, strap marks and other horrors below her skirt.
"I don't hear any pots rattling in there, woman. I told ya to get us some dinner!" The bellow came through the front door, reminding her to get busy. The men were especially ornery now that it was well past supper time, but that was hardly her fault. She hadn't been the one to start the argument amongst the men.
She hurried to the sideboard to do just as he'd demanded, clattering the dishes loudly so he would know she was working, but her eyes were on the younger man lying haphazardly in the corner of the room. She'd yet to see Joe move, although she could see his chest rising and falling raggedly. She didn't dare go to his side as his brother had done and now lay outside in the ditch with the old man whose claim they were using. Although, maybe it would be better if they just shot her. No, she wouldn't be so lucky. Slick liked having her around to torture as well as the rest of the men liked her to cook or when they were lucky, Slick would let them take their turn fucking her.
As she dumped cans of beans in the big skillet she again wished she had something with which to poison th
em. With Eddie in the ditch, she couldn't help but wonder about starting a fire in the dry old cabin while the gang was asleep. She wouldn't feel so guilty if they all burned alive now if the younger boys were gone. Her glance went back to Joe. Would he still be alive later tonight?
She had a suspicion the gang would be getting pretty plastered tonight after the brawl they'd had today. Damaris would never have believed she was capable of killing a man, but nothing would give her greater pleasure than to know they'd all burned to death in a fire, well, except the kid. Her eyes flitted from her shaking fingers as she sliced the ham to the young man on the floor once again and she offered up a prayer he'd just die in his sleep now. Living would continue to be hell for him. Slick wouldn't let him leave…
"Woman, if you ain't got them beans heated by the time I'm done pissing, I'll take the strap to your pretty little titties this time." Slick's voice dropped off as she heard him stomping off the wooden porch.
She shuddered as she remembered that awful belt ripping the tender skin between her thighs and across her back. Her skin was still tight and burning from her last beating. As she sliced a hunk of ham off she gripped the knife hard, wondering if she could kill the man before he killed her, before someone came to Slick's aid. Damaris almost thought she'd rather they kill her, maybe she should force them to do it?
At the sound of boot heels on the porch again, she launched into action. She dropped the knife and tossed the ham into the pan with the beans, then scurried to get the plates and the hard biscuits she'd made this morning.
Chapter Eight
Delaney had never looked forward to a bath so much as she did that night. Every muscle in her whole body screamed in agony—some she'd never known she possessed. Some internally, if that were possible, although, she supposed those weren't from riding horseback that whole long day. They seemed to ache more during certain times, like when Tripp spoke to her all intimately, or when he was touching her, or when she was thinking about his mouth on her… well, it seemed like they'd been aching ever since the man had found her outside the other night.
And her bottom was brutally sore.
The agony was more than she'd ever endured before. The spanking she'd received from Gabe had been different in every way, emotionally and physically, having a more parental tone to it. She'd certainly never wished Gabe would touch her the shameful way she now wanted Tripp to do again. It was supposed to be a punishment, so why was she now craving the humiliation of it again?
And with Tripp it had been anything but parental. She was disgusted at the very idea of Gabe punishing her in her back hole the way Tripp had. With Tripp, it was somehow acceptable, perhaps it was his confidence that he had every right to do so.
Even so, she was still certain she'd never be able to look the man in the face again after that. Lord, she'd forgotten to get her drawers from his saddle bag. Delaney would prefer he burn them than bring them back to her. She never wanted to be reminded again of the events that had occurred that day! Never. As if that was likely to happen when one lived amongst a building full of outspoken women who were all too familiar with the practice.
Delaney was thankful that Jewel had gone in search of a soothing ointment for her aching muscles so that she could get undressed in privacy. Not only was she worried the woman would notice her missing drawers, but she was afraid of the marks she would see on Delaney's behind, although in hindsight, everyone knew that not only had she spent the previous night with the marshal, he'd also busted her butt. He'd pointed it out without any discretion at all.
If he'd had any tact, he might have talked to Gabe about it privately although she had to admit it was Gabe who'd visited the topic first. Delaney had been in tears when they'd entered the saloon only to receive the attention of everyone present. Even though she had tried to come in the back way, they had to go into the back of the bar room to get to the hall leading to her bedroom.
Delany had never felt so loved. They'd been greeted with many hugs, relieved expressions and even Nettie's, "Praise the Lord Baby Jesus, and if you ever do such a thing again, I'm going to thrash your backside with this here spoon."
Perhaps it was the bossy, spoon-wielding woman who was to blame for the mortifying topic and not so much Gabe, even though he could have waited, but instead questioned Tripp as to if she'd "learned" her lesson yet.
Tripp's heated gaze scorched her already flaming face when he responded, "I do believe she has thoroughly learned her lesson and shall remember it for a very long time. Isn't that right, Diamond?"
She refused to meet his intense gaze or anyone else's when she nodded agreement. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't think of anything but my sister when I took off. I never meant to worry any of you—but I can promise, I will never ever go against your word again, Gabe." She had already determined to apologize even before Tripp had told her that she would have to, but his nod of approval for her admission, made her feel special.
The next morning her behind was even worse, and she'd never have believed it possible prior to pressing it against the mattress when she was ready to get up. When she'd rolled from her side to sit on the edge of the bed, she'd cried out in alarm. Although her backside wasn't on fire anymore, it ached with the ferocity of a horse kick or a fall from a great height, both of which she'd experienced growing up. What she'd never experienced before was the innate desire to be in the arms of the one who'd punished her so. Why hadn't he asked to sleep with her last night? Was he still mad at her for stealing his horse? Was the night they'd spent together just a game for him? Or what of the spanking? It wasn't just a spanking… at least not to her.
Delaney couldn't help but rush to the mirror to see the marks from her spanking. Her cheeks raged hot as an inferno when she remembered Gabe coming to her room after her bath the night before, demanding to see her seat—wanting proof that she'd been punished thoroughly. She'd been horrified at the request and flat out refused to show the man her bare bottom until he reminded her he didn't have a problem just blistering her ass again to be sure she was fully punished.
Seeing no other option, she did as he requested, bending toward her bed and raising her nightgown. She looked over her back at his whistle, flinching when he reached forward and ran his fingers over the welts crisscrossing her full cheeks.
"Dios mío, he was very thorough, wasn't he? Well, that is that. Even though this wasn't a picnic for you, I hope you learned, and that you know it was for your own good. It's not a responsibility that any of us men take lightly, protecting our woman." He tugged her nightgown down and pulled her close, giving her a warm hug.
"Yes, sir," she whispered. "Thank you for your patience with us, Gabe."
The image in the mirror of her battered backside sent a surprising thrill through her core. Each red line was proof of the intimate care that Tripp had given her. She felt claimed. Running her fingers over the throbbing welts didn't leave her with nearly the same thrill, but had her actually clenching her teeth against the bite of pain.
She hadn't remembered to sit carefully at the table during breakfast, and the action brought the memories of other meals where a gem, sitting delicately had brought rounds of teasing and mirth. She would have laughed along with the good-hearted teasing if she could find a comfortable position on the old wooden chair. Now she also understood why sometimes gems hurried to get the upholstered chairs before another gem could beat her to it. If only she'd have remembered that sooner.
"Don't worry, it will only hurt like that for about a week." Opal laughed and took a sip of her coffee with a devilish smirk. John, sitting at Opal's side, gave her a look of warning and Delaney had to wonder why the two weren't married yet.
Amy's laugh and "Or more" followed right behind.
If she had to go through a week of this, she'd likely head for the hills. There was no way she'd be seated around this table a least two times a day of the remainder. No, she'd be seated in an ice-cold mountain creek for the rest of the week.
"Perhaps you'd like yo
ur behind to ache for a week, Amethyst?" Nettie came bustling into the room with a basket of muffins and a serving platter of bacon. "Though I'd think that after Mr. Gabe's attention, you'd not need more, I can assure you I didn't leave my spoon far behind me." Her raised eyebrow and deep southern accent carrying the threat.
Amy, obviously remembering the time the cook had blistered her bottom in full view of her fellow gems, shook her head. "No, Miss Nettie. I'm sorry, Diamond."
"There is another gem who isn't sitting easy this morning." Charlie brought their attention to Silver. "Perhaps you two can share tips after breakfast." He waggled his eyebrows in jest. Delaney was thankful to be out of the spotlight.
"Oh, don't let any of the girls fool you, there are more than just two tenderly sitting gems this morning." Gabe looked pointedly at Madam Jewel before moving his gaze to fix Opal, Amy, and Dottie before his chocolate colored eyes finally landed on Nettie. When Delaney looked their way, she remembered with great shame that Tripp had said they would not only be worried sick, but would most-likely receive their own punishments for letting her leave so easily. Shame and regret filled her again at the idea that she was the cause of their discomfort.
"I'm so sorry, Madam Jewel, Net—"
"No, don't be. Each of you are only responsible for your own actions and this is far from the first time one incident has had rippling affects. Everyone has learned their own lesson from this." Gabe's speech had brought every eye in the room to him. "I want to remind each and every one of you that this is very serious. We have confirmation that there are some deadly and perverse outlaws very nearby. I want special precautions being taken by each of you. Starting with the obvious. None of you should be leaving this place without myself, John, Charlie, the sheriff, one of the deputies or the marshal. That goes as far as even the outhouse. We have means to relieve yourselves in the bathing room, if needed. If the outhouse is necessary, you must ask for an escort and I am not talking about each other. Another measure we're going to enforce is that none of you will be spending any private time upstairs with anyone but our regulars. These men are vile and the unspeakable acts they've committed are not going to happen to any of our gems. We're going to make sure of it. I don't have to warn you that since you have all been warned, the consequences are higher and will be strictly enforced. There won't be enough arnica cream to soothe all your bottoms if you wish to test me." He met each of their eyes before finally starting on his breakfast.
