12 Naughty Days of Christmas: Volume Four

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12 Naughty Days of Christmas: Volume Four Page 54

by Piper Stone


  “Did you tell her you want her to stay? And please, call me Cass.”

  He stopped, at the top of the stairs, and cocked his head. “It suits you, but I think Cassandra is a beautiful name, for a beautiful young woman.” Moving her on into the bedroom, he retrieved a cloak he had hung the evening before and put it around her shoulders. “Here. Which family would you like to meet first? We’ll only stay a few moments this morning, and only visit a few of the homes today. Later in the week we’ll see a few more.”

  “I would really love to go see the little boy, Lucas, first this morning.”

  “In that case, come with me a minute.” He moved back toward his study, next to the drawing room, and took her inside. Approaching his desk, he pulled out a small stack of white paper and handed it to her. “Give this to Lucas when you get there. He’ll be your friend forever. And this.” Next, he handed her a pencil.

  “I’m bribing him?”

  “He won’t see it that way. Come.”

  As he led her out the front door, she stopped. “Matthew, what are you going to tell them about us?”

  “Lucas and his grandmother?”

  She shook her head. “Everyone. What will you say about our marriage? That this is a marriage of convenience?”

  His dark eyes met hers. “I will never say that, Cassandra. I want that to be made clear.”

  A smile replaced her expression of worry. “Thank you.”

  To her shocked surprise, he leaned forward, and kissed her forehead before taking her arm and walking toward the house three blocks down.

  Lucas’s grandmother was opening the door before they reached it. “Come in.” She smiled. “He’s been busy drawin’ this morning and he wants you to see them. I can tell he’s eager to find out who you are, darlin’. Call me Grandma Kelley. Everyone does.” She put her head back inside the door and called for the boy, ushering them into the house.

  Immediately, Cass heard the sounds of little footsteps on the wooden stairs, flying downward. However, he got halfway down, before turning and flying back upward again.

  His grandmother laughed. “He forgot his drawings.” She winked and grinned toward Cassandra. “Maybe I can get you some tea? I hear you’re married. Everyone’s happy for you.”

  Matthew grinned back at her. “Word travels fast. Thank you, Mrs. Kelley.”

  “Indeed it does. But we’re cheered for you, Matt.” She wagged her finger at Cass. “You be good to this boy, hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Cass had set the paper and pencil down with her cloak over them, and barely had time to answer when Lucas ran in with a stack of papers in his hand.

  The child threw his arms around Matthew’s waist. Then he tugged on her hand and pulled her toward the table in the kitchen. He grasped Matthew’s next, leading him in.

  His grandmother followed, puttering around the kitchen, before setting a glass of tea down in front of each of them.

  Matthew was careful to set his onto the wooden counter when he wasn’t drinking it, and Cass followed his example. She gave Lucas most of her attention, as he began to put several pieces of paper out on the tabletop.

  She gasped as she saw the first one. It was the side of the mountain, where the smoke rose, going upward in plumes. She picked it up, and stared at it, her eyes huge. “It looks real.”

  In a moment, he took it from her hand and handed her another. It was drawn from his point of view as he ran up the mountain, looking back down. A wet and bedraggled Cassandra was trying to climb up behind him, and was having difficulty negotiating the slippery ground. Matthew was off on the left, shouting at her, and her own countenance was full of exasperation.

  That one also disappeared. The next was of the branch, tipping dangerously as it fell through the trees. The eyes of both Matthew and Cass were fixed on it, and Matthew was reaching forward.

  Cass sat there, staring at it, until Lucas took it away, and showed her the next one. Only his arm and hand reaching up around Matthew’s neck were visible in this one, but the vest Matthew had put over him, and his shirt covering Cass, were so detailed, she was aghast. His drawing was incredible. Matthew’s face was turned toward hers, in the sketch, and the expression of fright in her eyes as she looked up into his, was amazing.

  “When Lucas showed me that one, I knew the two of you should be together,” Mrs. Kelley was saying.

  “Oh! I almost forgot.” Cass jumped to her feet and ran quickly back toward the room they’d entered. Gathering up the paper and pencil, she brought it in behind her back and first leaned down toward Lucas, bringing out the pencil.

  His eyes lit up. Then, she showed him the paper, and his mouth widened in a huge grin, as he took it. He ran to Cass, throwing his arms about her waist, and then moved toward Matthew.

  Mrs. Kelley smiled, as she watched her grandson fondly.

  Cass watched all of them, smiling. But she also took the opportunity to look around her. There was little in the kitchen beside the glasses of tea the woman had offered her. But she looked extremely happy.

  Lucas took each piece of paper and folded it carefully, bringing her a pair of scissors.

  She looked up at his grandmother, questioningly.

  The woman explained softly, “He’s wanting you to cut on the folds, darlin’. That way he gets four pieces of paper out of each one, and if he draws on the back too, it makes eight.”

  Carefully, Cass cut along the creases on the paper, as he watched, and Lucas’s bright smile was grateful, as he carefully stacked them, one on top of the other.

  As they walked home that morning, her husband took her hand in his, and she clung to it tightly. “What is it, Cassandra?”

  There were tears in her eyes when she looked up. “It’s Mrs. Kelley,” she said softly. “Did you notice how little she has in the house? Oh, Matthew. I felt terrible even drinking her tea and using up her supplies.”

  “But you’d have hurt her feelings if you hadn’t, Cass. These are proud people. Her husband died before the railroad moved. Lucas is the light of her life. I try to supply paper and pencils for him, and keep them in groceries. But I saw what you saw today. It appears they need some food in the house. Lucas is a growing boy.”

  The Petition

  December 6, 1880

  A month had passed. They had settled into a routine at last, and Matthew sat staring at the bookshelf in his study. He’d enjoyed every moment of every day Cass had been in his life. She was still begging him to take her up to the house and show it to her, but he’d refused. She had groused about it, but he’d popped her bottom and explained she’d need to be patient. That would come later.

  He glanced back down at his desk, when he heard a knock on the door. Cassandra’s head was peeking around the edge, and he smiled. He’d been at the mine that day, and Cass had visited some of the folks in town. He could tell something was on her mind.

  “Come in, sweetheart.” He raised a hand and motioned her forward. When she moved toward him, he pulled her into his lap. “Something is on your mind. What is it?”

  She looked up. “I just had a question. If you don’t want me to, it’s all right and I understand, but I think this is really important and—”

  “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What’s important?”

  “Well I was visiting the Drummonds yesterday and Samantha has been ill, and she doesn’t have a cloak for winter. And I was at the Pennys today, and Mr. Penny isn’t able to work right now, and—” she paused. “Remember when we were over to see Lucas and his grandmother, and they didn’t have enough food?”

  He nodded. “Yes. They do now. Are you trying to tell me they need food again?”

  “Yes. No, not Lucas and Grandma Kelley, the Pennys. And I would like to… Well, the thing is, I know we won’t be celebrating Christmas this year, but they do, and they have little children, and I was—” He was ginning at her, and she paused. “What’s funny?”

  “You, trying to get your question out. Spill it, Cassandra. You were wondering if you could
buy the children some gifts?”

  “Not exactly. Remember when you opened my trunks and all the patterns fell out?”

  He nodded, and she took a deep breath. “I saw them going to school, and they didn’t have on much that was warm. They need mittens and they need cloaks, and it was cold inside the house. I know they could use some blankets, and I realize we only have about nineteen days before Christmas, but I wondered if I could buy some material and make them some things and…” She stopped, biting her lip. “Would you mind, terribly?”

  He couldn’t help himself; he chuckled. “Buy whatever you need, Cassandra. I’ll go to the Mercantile tomorrow with you and let you pick it out.” When she squealed and threw her arms about his neck, he pulled her close.

  But her words were still tumbling out. “I thought if we got some apples for baking we could make each family a pie. Oh, and I know how to make these blankets where you take tailor’s scissors and cut strips in the side, and you tie the strips into knots, and they make the nicest blankets. I can’t knit worth anything, but I can sew, and I can—” Her chatter ceased when he put his mouth over hers. When he raised his head, he growled into her ear, “And you can kiss nicely.”

  “And you don’t mind, even though it’s for Christmas?”

  Matthew took her waist and lifted her into his lap. “Cass, listen to me. I’m not against Christmas. And I’m certainly not against doing things for others during the season. You have my permission. But as far as our house, I just can’t—” His voice seemed to fail, and there was silence in the room. He kissed the top of her head and took a breath, smiling down into her concerned face. “I don’t want to come home and find the whole house decorated in green and red, and see decorations everywhere I turn. I’m not ready for that – yet.”

  She leaned against his chest and sighed. “I won’t ask you to, Matthew. But if I can provide some things for the families and the children, I’ll be very happy.”

  He continued to hold her in his lap, but reached down into the drawer for some paper, and handed her a pencil. “Make a list of what you think we’ll need.”

  “Now?”

  “Now. That’ll give me some idea of how much we’ll need to cover it all.” He sat, holding her and rubbing her back while she made notes, until she finally leaned back against him. “Can I see it?”

  With worried eyes, she handed it to him to look over.

  He raised a brow. “This looks like an awful lot of work on your part.”

  “I think it’ll be fun. Is it too much? I mean, can we afford it?”

  “I don’t think it’ll bankrupt me.”

  She threw her arms about his neck and kissed him spontaneously. “Thank you, Matthew!” She kissed his mouth, then his cheek, and before he could kiss her back, she laughed and tried to wiggle out of his arms.

  “Little brat,” he said under his breath, grinning. “Now. Listen to me. Despite the fact that I have approved this project, I do not wish to come home and see Christmas decorations all over the house. Is that understood?”

  She nodded silently.

  “All right.” He set her on the floor and smacked her bottom soundly, then she disappeared through the doorway.

  He watched her go, his mouth quirked into a grin. Lately he’d found himself comparing her with Elizabeth. It didn’t seem fair to either of them however, the differences between Cassandra and Elizabeth were profound. He’d always thought Beth was the perfect woman, poised, graceful. There was never a hair out of place. She loved dinner parties; she loved to show off the house. However, the people of town, even before the railroad bypassed them, were of modest means, and Beth had seemed eager to reinforce the differences. If she gave something away, which she didn’t often do, she seemed to revel in the praise for it. He’d spoken to her about it more than once, and she’d looked at him with a hurt expression, as if he’d wounded her.

  Cass was different. He sighed, as he sat at his desk trying to concentrate on the books in front of him. Her demeanor was bright, and it made him smile. Whereas Elizabeth hated idle chatter, Cassandra excelled at it. Her words often tumbled over each other when she was trying to make a point, just as they had tonight. There were times when he thought perhaps she might be just a little quieter. However, the long nights before he’d lost Elizabeth, he’d have enjoyed more of that, more of her company… more of her. In some ways, he felt as if he’d lost her even before he really did.

  He rose from his desk quickly, and went trailing through the house to look for his little wife. The kitchen was empty, so was the dining room and the drawing room.

  He found her upstairs, with her trunks opened, pulling out all sorts of items and strewing everything over the bed and the floor. “Cassandra? What are you doing?”

  “Oh! Going through my patterns. I have some for mittens and some for cloaks and some simple jackets…” She looked sheepish suddenly, when she realized she had things strewn everywhere. “I made a mess, didn’t I?”

  “Tell me where you want to work, and I’ll help you move and organize it.”

  She looked at him, blinking. “I hadn’t thought about it. The dining room?”

  “Sure. But out of curiosity, why the dining room?”

  “Well, we’re not eating in there right now, and the table is nice and long. I thought I could lay everything out on it.”

  “All right. Let’s pick these things up off the bed, shall we?”

  It had taken her exactly five minutes to have the bed completely covered. It took forty-five to move it all downstairs. But as she began to organize it into piles, he reached out, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her squealing up the stairs to the bedroom.

  “Matthew? What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to bed. You can make as many piles in the dining room as you wish tomorrow, after we buy supplies. Tonight, you’re going to be naked in my bed.” He set her down on her feet, and pointed to the clock. “It’s five minutes until nine. You have exactly five minutes to put the rest of this away and get undressed, while I watch.”

  She stared up at him in disbelief. “Five minutes!”

  “You heard me. I don’t mind helping, but you’re the only one who knows where they go.” He was grinning, but had one eyebrow raised, as well.

  “And suppose I don’t get it done in that amount of time?”

  “You got it out in that amount of time.”

  She remained there, hands folded across her chest, for a minute and a half.

  “Cassandra? Are you going to just stand there?”

  “And if I do?” The rebelliousness was loud and clear in her voice.

  He took a step closer.

  She took one back.

  “Do you remember,” he said, moving forward one more step. “Our discussion the first day, in the sheriff’s office?”

  “We discussed a lot of things,” she said, looking away.

  “In particular, do you remember that I told you defiance would result in you being spanked?”

  Her eyes went wide and met his. She did remember. “You are dreadful.”

  “Am I? You have about two minutes left, young lady, before you realize how dreadful I can be. I warned you about rebellion the first day I met you. If this isn’t picked up in that amount of time, you’ll find yourself over my knee very shortly.”

  Cassandra glanced up toward the clock uncertainly, but she refused to move.

  “One minute, ten seconds.”

  “Stop it!”

  He wouldn’t do it; she was sure of it. But as she glanced up again, his telltale eyebrow rose, and he took another step forward. She began to gather up the things she had left on the floor, and started throwing them into her trunk. She kept an eye on her husband as he walked toward the door and closed it, sealing off her escape, and strode back toward her.

  He pulled a chair out into the middle of the room, and sat down in it, while she continued to put everything away, more hurriedly than before.

  “Fifteen seconds, Cassandra.
” His voice was deep. “For every second you go over, you’ll receive extra swats.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she grumbled under her breath.

  “Wouldn’t I? Try me. Now you have five.”

  She threw the last thing in two seconds after he said, in his deep voice, “Time is up, Cassandra. And you’re not undressed.” The clock was in the process of striking nine o’clock.

  She ran around to the other side of the bed, and he motioned her toward him.

  She looked anxious. “If you think I’m going to climb into bed with you after you’ve threatened me, you’re so wrong!” Cass was hot, and cold at the same time. She was glancing at the clock frantically and her hands twisted in her skirt, as she watched Matthew rise from the chair and begin to walk slowly toward her.

  His face was not angry, but it was full of determination. His jaw was pulsing. He held out a hand toward her. “Cassandra. If I have to chase you down, you’re going to be in more trouble than you dreamed of. Come here.”

  She was wide-eyed and took another step back, as he neared. Blinking, she choked back a sob. “I-I’m sorry, Matthew. I didn’t mean to be a-a—”

  “Come here, sweetheart. Let’s get this done and over with. Take my hand.”

  Cassandra began to breathe rapidly. Slowly, she reached out her hand, and he clasped his around her wrist, pulling her toward him very slowly. His voice was gentle, but firm, as he brought her across the room to the chair.

  “What… are you going to do?” she whispered.

  He sat down on the chair, and brought her to stand between his knees. “The first thing I’m going to do, Cassandra, is to undress you. Then I’m going to put you over my knee, and we’ll talk about your attitude and defiance. Then, I’m going to spank you until I’m sure you understand how important it is to control your attitude.”

  She was trembling. His finger drew a pattern across her lower lip, watching her eyes as they brimmed with tears and spilled over. “Turn around, sweetheart, so I can undress you. I understand this is your first spanking from me, and that you’re afraid. I’ll talk you through this.”

 

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