Boxcar's gut tightened, but he refrained from saying anything. It was sounding more and more like Stephen had enjoyed inflicting pain, period.
"When he was killed, I felt so guilty," she whispered. "I buried my feelings deep inside and only remembered the good things, the love that we had. I felt so guilty for even thinking that he wasn't being fair when he spanked me all the time. He never hurt me with the spanking; I just didn't like it when I felt it was so unfair. I never protested, when I knew I deserved it. I even appreciated it when I had it coming, because it made me feel safe, loved, and cared for." She wiped away a stray tear. "I stayed in Potluck and opened this diner. I've not spoken with my father in six years nor have I even told him Stephen is dead. I've been lying in the bed of my own creation as he told me to do when I left." She folded her arms across her bosom then, as if to ward off the pain, tears seeping below her eyelids in a steady trickle. "Dade Robertson tried to court me for awhile, and I liked Dade, but he wasn't the man Stephen was, and I somehow knew he wasn't strong enough for me, if that makes any sense." She laughed a weak laugh and rubbed the tears from her face. "I have had many men friends, but none have touched my heart again until I met you, Boxcar. And you scare me." She turned to face him then. "You scare me, because I instinctively know you have the strength I need. And the truth is, I don't know what I need for sure, and I've been hiding my feelings away, expecting you to figure me out. I haven't been fair to you, and I'm sorry."
"Come here to me," he ordered gruffly, holding out his open arms. She flew to him then, and he cuddled her on his lap, his arms tight around her.
"There's one more thing," she whispered, gazing up at him. "I was four months pregnant when the Indians attacked, and the stress of everything caused me to miscarry. So I can't blame my father completely for my desire to stay out here. I still need to visit Gray's grave now and then, because I can't bear the thought of leaving him behind."
Boxcar's arms tightened around her and his lips twisted in sympathy. This was something he had never guessed. Tilly had lost a child, no wonder she was a mess of mixed up feelings. "I'm so sorry about Gray. I wish I could take that pain away." He ran his palm down the side of her face, his eyes softening.
"It was a long time ago, but I believe it's part of why I have flashbacks," she quavered. "The guilt over doing nothing to keep from losing Stephen and Gray has been very difficult to deal with." Her eyes overflowed with tears as she tremulously smiled up at him "But it is getting easier since I met you. I just feel bad that I've never told you. I should have done so and not hidden it from you."
"I forgive you, kitten, but don't ever hide from me again," he warned softly."That will always be a spanking offense. I'm not like Stephen. I happen to feel that what you think does matter, and I want to know what those thoughts are. I want you to be yourself. Think, act, feel the way you want to. Be open and honest, and I'll deal with it as it comes. If I think you need spanked, I'll spank you. And sometimes, you may not like it, but I'll always listen to your reasons. And I'm not the spank first and ask questions later kind of man like Thorn is with Clary." He turned her chin up and gazed lovingly into her soft blue eyes. "I'm not easily fooled, either, honey, and I knew something was wrong, all along. I've just been waiting for you to come to me. But from now on, if you don't come to me, I'll come to you." He picked up the big wooden spoon. "And I'll bring a friend." His eyes suddenly twinkled down at her.
"Oh, Boxcar," she groaned, laughing up at him and grabbing the spoon out of his hand and throwing it aside. "I do love you so!" She stood up, pushed him backwards onto the bed and landed on top of him, kissing him everywhere she could reach his face.
He rolled her over and came up on top, his fingers busily removing her clothing as he went. "I love you, too," he declared fervently, and he set about showing her just how much.
The next morning, Thorn and Boxcar opened the door to the sheriff's office and caught Holden trying to push a broom straw down the splint on his leg. "What the devil are you doing?" asked Boxcar, trying not to laugh.
"Damned thing itches," snarled Holden. "Be glad when this thing is off, and I can get back to work."
"Where's Charlie?"
"I gave him a few days off; he's got a little girlfriend over in Silver Springs, name of Mary Dennison. Seeing as how you all cleaned up our current problem, I'm guessing it might stay calm for a least a few days."
"Mary Dennison," echoed Boxcar with a grin. "I thought she was Mike Cavanaugh's love interest."
Holden's eyes gleamed. "Mike told me she didn't like him spanking her, but I'm guessing Charlie won't last, either, if that's the case. I think Mike's seeing Callie Perkins now, last I heard."
"Good for Mike, Callie's a great kid," enthused Boxcar, remembering the little blonde with the caramel curls who had wanted to be a bounty hunter.
"If you're caught up on everyone's love-life, I have something I want to talk about," interrupted Thorn, settling his long length into a chair and leaning it up against the wall. At that moment, Nelson opened the door and strode in. "Morning, all. Thought I'd check in and make sure it's quiet so far."
"So far so good," replied Holden, his teeth worrying the straw. "'Cept Thorn's got something on his mind."
Nelson sat on the edge of the desk. "So what's troubling you?"
"I don't think we've seen the last of Joseph Morgan," Thorn finally said, taking the drawing from his pocket. "Clary isn't going to like it, but I need a wanted poster put out for his arrest for her kidnapping." He frowned as he studied the drawing. "Whatever reason he had for releasing Clary, I don't think it was out of any Godly repentance or having an epiphany and seeing the light. I'm not even sure he ever planned to kill her. Psychopaths never change, they just change strategies."
Holden grunted. "To hear Nelson tell it, old Father Vincent has damn near declared him a saint."
"Well, I, for one, don't believe he's gone to the desert to await the judgments of God," Thorn retorted. "I think he's still around."
"You think he's still after the ruby?" asked Nelson, a perplexed look on his face.
"A man like that will always have a cause," replied Thorn slowly. "His self imposed missions that he gets from God or somewhere in the depth of his befuddled mind will always be at the expense of anyone who gets in his way. In short, once a killer, always a killer. And that makes him a very dangerous man to be on the loose, because he's smart, capable, and almost impossible to catch. For whatever reason, I think he gave up on the ruby. Maybe Clary did get him to see that it belongs to Mary, and he's okay with that. That's why he no longer needed to see if it was in the statue and killing Clary wasn't necessary. Still, we don't have a clue as to what else is going on in his mind."
Boxcar nodded uneasily. "Did we hear anything from Sheriff Prescott?"
"Got a Pony Express mail from him this morning," grunted Holden. "Said they followed his track into the foothills a mile or so and then lost it. If we're lucky, maybe the Indians will get him."
"I doubt it," replied Nelson with a frown. "Geronimo is on the reservation right now, and things have been calm for awhile. He can move around out there without too much trouble. He may even come back to the mission when Prescott gives up looking for him."
"Well, hopefully, Father Vincent did as I asked and put a piece of red glass in the statue, just in case Morgan goes all looney about it again," said Thorn.
Boxcar grinned. "That was good idea, old buddy, one of your better ones."
Thorn eyed him suspiciously and then handed the drawing to Holden.
"See what you can do with getting that made into a wanted poster. At least with that plastered all over Arizona, maybe someone will spot him somewhere."
"You want it listed as dead or alive or just wanted?" snapped Holden, sticking the straw down his splint again and groaning.
"Dead or alive, naturally," retorted Thorn. "The man is a killer."
"No proof of that, though."
"Doesn't matter, kidnapping is a hanging of
fense."
"Uh, no... Technically, kidnapping isn't a hanging offense—stealing a horse is a hanging offense," corrected Boxcar cheerfully.
"Add suspicion of four counts of murder," added Thorn, glaring at his friend. "That makes it a hanging offense. Especially, once I find those pearl-handled pistols and that shield, if he hasn't already retrieved them, by now."
"Only when the judge sentences him."
"Shut up, Boxcar. By order of the governor's office, make it wanted dead or alive for kidnapping and suspicion of four counts of murder," grated Thorn.
"Is there a reward?" asked Holden, glancing from one man to the other while Nelson snickered.
"Ten thousand dollars."
Holden eyed him thoughtfully. "You want him bad, don't you?"
"I don't want him to ever be able to hurt anyone again," replied Thorn coldly. "And my gut tells me he is already on a new mission. And whatever it is, people will die. I'm uneasy about Mary. He could have transferred his fixation from the ruby to her, since they are both connected with Tobias Benedict."
"You need to listen to his gut," added Boxcar, all teasing gone from his brown eyes. "I happen to agree with him. We haven't seen the last of Joseph Morgan, but he's gone to ground somewhere, for now."
Thorn nodded in agreement. "When we're finished with this assignment in Potluck, the governor may want us to pursue Morgan, but until then, he's a loose end out there. At least, the wanted poster will help put the word out and maybe slow him down."
"You got it," agreed Holden, chewing on the straw again.
Two weeks later, Thorn and Boxcar were just returning from a day trip to Silver Springs on business for Holden. "Ever feel like Billy?" asked Boxcar as they made their way into Potluck and headed for the stables.
"Technically, that's what we are," replied Thorn dryly. "Errand boys for Abednego. He stressed the name with a flare. He just gave me a badge to wear for decoration."
"You know, I'm getting used to that name," replied Boxcar with a big grin. "It sort of grows on you."
"Especially when you use it everywhere but to his face," snorted Thorn with a chuckle.
"Well, you do it, too."
"I know, it does sort of grow on you." Both men laughed and then Thorn rubbed his hands together as they passed the horses off to the stable-hand. "I sure am looking forward to hot biscuits and gravy tonight at Clary's. I'm starving! You coming over for dinner or eating at Tilly's?"
Boxcar shook his head and then stopped and stared, his mind considering his options.
"What? What is it?" asked Thorn, looking around suspiciously.
Finally, Boxcar laughed and decided to tattle on his sister. "You do realize that Tilly is actually doing all of Clary's baking, don't you? My sister can't bake anything and refuses to even try."
"Well, now, I do admire you, Boxcar, for holding that little secret for so long. But I have to tell you, I already know that Clary can't bake." He chuckled at the nonplussed expression on Boxcar's face. It wasn't often that he pulled one over on Boxcar, it was usually the other way around.
"But...but...why didn't you call her on it in the first place?" he sputtered.
Thorn shook his head. "Because she was jealous of Tilly," he admitted. "It would not have been gentlemanly of me to call her a liar in front of another woman, now would it?"
Boxcar was amazed. "I had no idea you were so gallant and selfless," he joked. "So why have you let her get away with it, instead of confronting her and spanking her for lying?"
"Because not everything is about spanking," he admitted, flushing a bit.
"No kidding?" chided Boxcar sarcastically. "I knew that, I just didn't realize you did."
Thorn grinned. "She is punishing herself by getting all worried every time I come back from a trip, knowing I expect goodies to be waiting for me. I suspect I really put her into a tizzy when we came back early from Tucson with our last case, but I have to give her credit, she had that blackberry cobbler waiting on me. Lucky for her that Tilly bakes early in the mornings."
"I had no idea you were capable of such deception, old buddy." Boxcar laughed in delight and clapped Thorn on the shoulder. "I wonder how long it will take her to finally confess."
"I have no idea, but I'm in no hurry. My sweet tooth keeps her focused on me while I'm away," he added smugly.
"You really are a psychopath," Boxcar said admiringly. "I almost pity my sister. She can never really hide anything from you."
"Yes, well, don't compare me to that lunatic Morgan," he snapped. He was still irritated because they hadn't been able to find the pistols and the shield.
"At least we know Mary was able to sell the Heart of Mary and get her money, all with no hint of Morgan in the picture. That's a relief. And Nelson says she is trying to fix all the whores of The Tarnished Rose and giving away money like water." He shook his head. "Poor Deputy March. If he's really interested in that little brat, he'd better bring her to heel before someone takes advantage of her. She has Doc wrapped around her little finger."
"I believe I once told you the same thing about a certain little diner owner," chided Thorn, his golden eyes the ones now laughing at Boxcar. "Didn't I tell you all along that Tilly just needed a damned good spanking?"
"Mind your own business," retorted Boxcar.
Thorn just threw back his head and laughed at his old friend. It was good to know that Morgan was silent for now and that Tilly and Boxcar seemed to be square. Now for some biscuits and gravy—and Clary.
The End
Brandy Golden
I love nothing better than a good romance story! If the heroine gets spanked, that's just the icing on the cake! I have lived in the Midwest all my life and have a great family which includes five wonderful children and a patient husband. I hope to continue to write. I love it tremendously, and I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I love creating them for you.
Visit her Amazon Author page.
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The Heart of Mary, A Thorn Novel
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