Callie Mae and the Marine

by Stevie MacFarlane

  Morgan could’ve sworn he heard several gasps coming from the upper level as Hank was laying down the law to Callie Mae. He was pretty sure the girls were all available, but he kept quiet, waiting to hear Callie Mae’s reply.

  “I’ve got all I need right here,” Callie Mae insisted, patting her thigh. “I…”

  “In about five seconds, I could flip up your skirts, take that gun away from you, and blister your ass besides,” Morgan said, snorted derisively.

  “You could also pull back a bloody stump,” Callie Mae snapped, getting to her feet. Even she heard the snickers coming from upstairs. “Regardless,” she said, straightening as she smoothed her dress, “I’m prepared to deal with any trouble myself. If things get out of hand I’ll certainly send for you, Marshal Riley. After all, that is your job. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I do have work to do so kindly see yourselves out,” she spat over her shoulder as she swept from the room.

  In the kitchen, Callie Mae heard the door open and close. Breathing a huge sigh of relief, she clutched at the small table for support as she waited for her tremors to subside. The huge hands that settled on her shoulders shouldn’t have been a surprise, but they were and she neatly stiffened her spine.

  “Was there something else you required, Mr. Whittaker?” she asked stiffly.

  “Just this,” Morgan replied spinning her around and taking her into his arms. His firm lips claimed hers with a proprietary insistence that both angered and thrilled her. He left her no room to struggle as one large hand cupped her head, holding her in place, and the other slipped to her bottom, pressing her against him.

  Callie Mae felt her resistance wavering as she sank deeper into the kiss. She was burning; her breasts seemed to rub against him of their own volition. His lips left her mouth and scalded a path down her neck and when he stopped just above her collarbone and began to nibble and suck, her knees went weak. His hand, cupping her bottom, seemed to be the only thing holding her up. At some point her feet left the floor and she was totally in his strong grasp, her heart fluttering wildly as she fought to regain her senses.

  It was the sudden gush of liquid dampening her drawers that had her fighting for release. Knowing it was not her time of the month, she was frightened and anxious to get to her room to investigate the strange phenomenon.

  Morgan reluctantly released her, his head resting momentarily on hers as he struggled with his own rampant desires. In his world this would have led straight to the bedroom as they tore off their own clothes, and it was difficult to remember that the sexual revolution was nearly one hundred years away.

  “I’m sorry, Callie Mae. I guess I got a little carried away,” he sighed, watching her scurry to the other side of the table and stare accusingly at him.

  “I guess you did, maybe we both did,” Callie Mae admitted softly, her hand resting over her heart, “but this can’t happen again. I told you the other night I won’t keep company with a man who uses his physical strength against a woman to win an argument.”

  “I didn’t spank you to win an argument,” Morgan insisted, watching her blush in fascination. “I spanked you for a number of reasons including your sassy, disrespectful attitude. You needed a lesson about the proper way to talk to a man who cares deeply for you, but mostly I did it to spank some sense into that pigheaded brain of yours.”

  “You see, we’ll never agree. In my opinion a man who cares deeply for me would never raise his hand to me,” she sighed, her clear gray eyes locked on his.

  “Believe it or not, Callie Mae, there was a time I would have agreed with you,” Morgan said wryly. “I’ve never had much respect for a man who would hit a woman, for any reason. I considered it abuse and totally uncalled for. However, since coming here, I mean returning home, I’ve reconsidered. While I would never take my fists to a woman or do anything that would cause injury, I think a good hard spanking now and then, when it’s called for, is a different matter.”

  “Would you care to explain the reasoning behind this change of attitude, although I don’t recall that you were ever above handing out a spanking when you thought it was deserved? In fact you had quite a reputation as a man not to antagonize, and what do you mean ‘coming here’?” she asked, baffled.

  “A spanking can be used to establish a clear chain of command, or head of household, if you will. It can be a way of ensuring appropriate behavior, as well as a way to clear the air, or wipe the slate clean. I see it as a useful means of communication when words won’t work. You absolutely refuse to listen to anything I have to say, or any advice I give you when it’s clearly in your best interest to do so. You get a belligerent, bossy attitude and I won’t have it. I will bare your sweet, sexy little bottom and spank it until I gain, if not your compliance, at least your willingness to listen. And you can take that to the bank.”

  “Oh you will, will you?” Callie Mae gasped, shocked to feel another gush of liquid heat between her thighs. Her hand slid unconsciously to her belly and pressed, until she noted Morgan’s interest and his slight smile.

  “Yup,” he said decisively. “Now come here and give me a kiss. I’ve got to get back to the farm and I still have some supplies to pick up,” he ordered.

  “No,” Callie Mae whispered, backing away.

  “I said yes,” Morgan growled, reaching her in two strides. Snagging her wrist, he pulled her into his arms and tipped her chin up with his index finger. “I’ll have no more sass out of you,” he informed her before his lips claimed hers.

  It wasn’t until Callie Mae was sagging in his arms, tiny mewling sounds escaping her throat, that he released her. After studying her bewildered expression, he smiled and gave her a firm pat on the bottom. “I’m going to talk to Hank. He needs a part-time deputy and I’m going to ask for the job. That way I can keep an eye on you and the girls. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. I hope you know that if things get out of hand around here and you try to handle it yourself, I’ll be teaching you a thing or two about that chain of command I mentioned earlier. See you later, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her cheek.

  Callie Mae stood frozen until she heard the door close. Quickly, she hurried upstairs to her room, ignoring the questions of the girls as they waited for her in the hall. Locking the door, she lifted her skirts and pulled off her drawers, inspecting them carefully. There was no sign of her monthly flow, just a clear, shiny fluid that seemed quite slippery as she washed up before putting on clean drawers. Briefly, she wondered if she might be ill, but she pushed the thought away. She was quite well and had always had a strong constitution. No, this was entirely different and it had something to do with Morgan, she was sure of that.

  Unfortunately, her mother passed away when she was just a child and there was no one to ask. It was hardly a conversation topic suitable for the girls and she certainly wouldn’t consult the young male doctor in town. No, she would wait and see if it happened again before she worried about it. Her main problem right now would be placating Marshal Riley and the man who was likely to be his new deputy.

  Chapter Eleven

  The first wave of drovers hit right around dusk. Suddenly the quiet little town was full of dirty, exuberant men anxious for three things, a bath, a home cooked meal, and a drink, preferably served to them by a pretty girl. The dust in the street was atrocious and Callie Mae covered her mouth as she hurried to the Blue Bonnet Café. Bursting through the back door, she quickly closed it and leaned against it.

  “Good grief, Laurie, I’ve never seen so many dirty men,” Callie Mae said.

  “I know,” Laurie replied. “They are standing in line out behind the barbershop waiting for a bathtub to become free and I hear even the livery is offering hot baths in the back of the stable. Thank goodness the men in the dining room took the time to clean up or I’d be days getting the dust out of here. Did you come for your order?”

  “Yes, I did. If it’s all right, I’ll send Annalise back to get the pies. Gosh, I hope I ordered enough,” Callie Mae sa
id peeking into the dining room. “Heavens, you haven’t got an empty chair in the place. How are you going to keep up?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll just have to do the best I can,” she answered somewhat fretfully. “It’s a good thing I got the neighbor girl to mind the children. At least I don’t have them underfoot.”

  “That’s true, but I heard there’s another drive right behind this one so I don’t think it’s going to calm down soon. I better take the sandwiches and get out of your way. It’s starting to fill up over at The Duchess too, but if I can spare her, I’ll send Annalise over to give you a hand.”

  “Oh, Callie Mae, that would be wonderful, but only if you can spare her,” Laurie said gratefully.

  “I should be able to. Annalise spends most of her time in the kitchen anyway and now that I’ve got the sandwiches and the pies, it’s just a matter of serving them. The other girls can do that. Are you sure you’re all right here on your own for now?”

  “I’m fine. You be careful getting back across the street. Gracious, you can hardly see over that basket. I guess I should’ve packed them into smaller ones.”

  “No, I’ll be all right, as long as I don’t get run down,” Callie Mae laughed. “It’s like a twister has blown into town.”

  Callie Mae picked her way carefully across the street, dodging horses, piles of manure, and ignoring the catcalls. Entering The Duchess, she made straight for the kitchen, weaving her way past tables full of cowhands. She had no idea how many heads turned, or how many hungry eyes followed her movements.

  In the kitchen, Annalise helped her with the basket and poured her a glass of iced tea.

  “Thank you, I swear I have a pound of dirt in my throat,” she said before gulping down half her tea. “I told Miss Laurie I would send you back for the pies but she’s so awfully busy over there I thought maybe you could go over and give her a hand. She has someone minding the children but the place is near to bursting with hungry men.”

  “Oh, Callie Mae, I don’t know how much use I’d be to her. You know how uncomfortable I get around men, how nervous I get. Maybe I’d just be in the way,” Annalise said sadly.

  “Nonsense, I’m sure you’ll be a great help to her. Even if you stay in the kitchen cooking and dishing up meals and she serves them, it’ll be much better than her trying to do everything on her own. Of course, if you don’t want to, I can see if one of the other girls will, but that might leave us shorthanded here. I’d hate for you to have to serve drinks.”

  “No, of course you’re right. Miss Laurie’s been very kind to us and if she needs my help I’ll be glad to give it. I’ll bring the pies back over as soon as I can,” Annalise promised. “When things quiet down over there and Miss Laurie’s able to manage on her own, I’ll return.”

  “You’re a dear,” Callie Mae said smiling. “Best go out the back door so you don’t have to walk through that crowd,” she advised.

  Annalise took her dark brown cloak from a peg by the door and slipped it on, pulling the hood over her hair. Nervously, she walked out the door and hurried around the building. Reaching the boardwalk, she set her sights on the Blue Bonnet, determined not to make eye contact with any strangers if she could help it. Stepping into the street, she quickly looked both ways before starting across. The heavy hood limited her peripheral vision more than she realized and she hadn’t gone more than three steps before a strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her back.

  “Hey now, hadn’t you better watch where you’re going?” A deep voice rumbled in her ear. “A little thing like you is likely to get run down, especially in that dark cloak.”

  “What you got there, Ty?” The young cowboy asked, laughing as he climbed off the horse that had nearly trampled her and tied it to the hitching post. “I hope she didn’t come out of that there saloon. I’m looking for something a might more colorful than the one you caught.”

  “You best watch your mouth, Joe,” the man holding her warned. “First you nearly run her down and then you insult her to boot. Of course she didn’t come out of the saloon. Can’t you tell a lady when you see one?”

  “I’m sorry if I offended you, ma’am,” Joe said taking off his hat. “I truly never saw you in this light.”

  “It’s all right,” Annalise said softly. “I guess I didn’t see you either.”

  “Well, no harm done,” Joe said putting his hat back on and tipping it. “Good evening, ma’am.”

  Annalise watched the cowboy enter The Duchess through the swinging doors. It wasn’t until that moment that she realized her rescuer’s arm was still around her waist. Tapping his hand, she gave a shiver as he reluctantly released her and turned to face him.

  “Thank you,” she said looking up at the tall, clean-shaven man.

  “You’re welcome, Miss…”

  “Martin, Annalise Martin.”

  “My name is Tyler Wainwright, but mostly I go by Ty. If you don’t mind me asking, where are you going in such a hurry and what are you doing out on the streets unescorted?”

  Annalise blushed, thankful for the dim light. While still polite, the man’s voice had a somewhat scolding tone. Not one to make a fuss, she was slightly surprised to feel a bristle of indignation. Granted, he’d saved her from a nasty accident, so she swallowed her sharp retort and answered truthfully. “I was on my way to the Blue Bonnet Café.”

  “Then allow me to escort you, and in the future I suggest you avoid crossing the street in front of the saloon,” Ty said, offering his arm.

  Annalise accepted, resting her hand lightly on his forearm. She said no more until they had managed to navigate the congested street. Once on the boardwalk, they turned toward the café and walked the short distance. In the light spilling from the windows, she stopped and looked up into his eyes.

  “Thank you, Mr. Wainwright, and I appreciate your concern; however it’s unlikely I’ll be able to avoid the traffic in front of The Duchess. You see I live there.”

  “You what?”

  “Yes, I live there and I also work for the owner, Miss Callie Mae Walker,” she said calmly enjoying the horrified look on his face. All of her life she’d stayed in the background, a quiet shadowy figure, an observer in the world around her. For the first time she had a man’s complete and undivided attention, and an attractive man at that. She ignored the wild fluttering of her heart, delighted by the unexpectedness of the entire situation.

  Ty took a step back, his eyes traveling from the toe of her shoe to the top of her head. The demure young woman before him could not possibly be a saloon girl. Taking off his hat, he scratched his head before slapping it back on.

  “Miss Martin, how is such a thing possible? You’re dressed quite like a Quaker from back east and you’re very young. Did your family come west and fall on hard times?” he asked kindly.

  Ah, there was the pity she was used too and it was unwelcome.

  “I fail to see how that’s any of your concern, Mr. Wainwright. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get inside,” she snapped, and with a twirl of her skirts she was gone.

  What a strange little thing she was, Ty thought as he watched her make her way between tables and disappear into the kitchen. At first she appeared like a little sparrow in her somber clothing, timid and shy. Standing in the light from the café as he questioned her, he’d seen a spark of something else in her dark eyes. He couldn’t be sure if it was anger or interest but he intended to find out a lot more about Miss Annalise Martin before the night was over.

  *

  “Oh, Annalise,” Laurie exclaimed when Annalise sailed into the kitchen and quickly hung up her cloak. “I thought something may have happened, and you weren’t coming,” she continued, noting Annalise’s flushed cheeks.

  “No, nothing happened. What would you like me to do?” she asked, smoothing down her skirts and patting her hair into place. “I nearly got run down is all, but I’m fine really.”

  Laurie looked at her strangely, but said nothing more about it. “I’m nearly o
ut of clean plates, there are rolls in the oven that need to come out in a few minutes, and if you could slice some pieces off that roast I’d be grateful.”

  Annalise took a clean white apron from a hook and slipped it over her head, tying it around her waist, and went to work. There would be time enough later for her to think about Ty Wainwright.

  *

  Lillian Piersal stood in the parlor above her millinery store and peeked through her lace curtains. The Duchess saloon had become a sore point between her and Mead from the time Callie Mae Walker took possession. It was bad enough watching her future brother-in-law, Matthew, go in and out of that place several nights a week, but now that Morgan was back, it was intolerable. To think the man she’d nearly married would frequent such a place. Well, it was just lucky for her they were no longer keeping company.

  Mead Whittaker was much more manageable, or at least he had been. She was still mortified by what he’d done the last time she’d gone to his mother’s for dinner and she hadn’t returned since. Oh, she’d been asked, but she could hardly expect to keep her good name if word got out she was in the company of Callie Mae and her girls. Why, she’d probably never sell another hat and she was already having financial difficulties. In fact, if Mead didn’t marry her soon she’d be forced to sell her shop and travel to Chicago to live off the charity of family.

  It didn’t appear to her that Morgan’s return had improved anything. Of course his family loved him and at one time she believed herself to be in love with him too. Now, however, she realized the narrowness of her escape. But for the hand of fate, she could be married to a man who not only associated with undesirables but also pinned a tin star on his chest, putting his life in danger. Why she could have been left a widow, possibly with children to care for like poor Mrs. Dixon, she thought with a shiver. Thank God she was now engaged to an up-and-coming young banker.