Marshal's Law

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Marshal's Law Page 16

by Maddie Taylor


  Standing in the grove, she looked at the trees, tears of anger and confusion rolling down her face. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She’d already accepted his discipline by his hand and even the hairbrush, but this seemed too extreme.

  Cutting her own punishment implement was one of the hardest things Janelle had ever done. The first branch she cut was too thick and rigid. Whipping it through the air, she shuddered, imagining it would feel more like a rod without any give and probably bruise her terribly. The next seemed too thin and flexible. It whipped through the air with a whistle, and she tossed it away, knowing the sting would be intense and that it would probably cut her skin. Finally, she came up with two twigs, no wider than her pinky finger as he’d instructed. She carefully removed all knots, bark, and leaves that could possibly injure her.

  When she was done, she stood staring down at them, a multitude of thoughts racing through her head. Could she let him do this to her? She knew he felt strongly that it was his job to correct her ‘bad behavior’, but she was an adult and had been used to making her own decisions for quite a while. She didn’t need a guardian, she grumbled aloud as she broke the dreadful twigs and threw them on the ground. However, a nagging voice in her head reminded her that she hadn’t always been successful in going it alone. She’d had to turn to her parents to bail her out a time or two. Like when she got in debt up to her ears in college, or got arrested that time after a party for public intoxication. She grimaced. Neither of those were very adult decisions. She’d grown up since then, hadn’t she?

  Thinking over her actions today, she didn’t feel very adult, and with the punishment looming, she felt even less so. But Louise Meyers had really pushed her buttons with her smirks and condescending attitude. Replaying the scene in her head, Janelle acknowledged her behavior wasn’t very proper, especially in a public place in front of so many observers. Without a doubt, the citizens of Laramie weren’t used to women cursing and fighting, except for maybe on 6th Street. Groaning with shame, she doubted she’d ever be able to show her face in that store again.

  Janelle wondered what would have happened if Aaron hadn’t come along when he did. Would she and Louise have come to blows, kicking and pulling hair like a couple of adolescent girls? Louise Meyers had definitely made her angry enough for that. In her time, they would have been ejected from the store, or the store owner would have called the cops. But the inevitable warning or trip to the police station seemed preferable compared to what her husband had in store for her.

  Glancing toward the house, she thought of Aaron waiting there, undoubtedly growing more impatient with each passing minute. In hindsight, she realized her actions reflected poorly on him. No wonder he was ticked off. She’d taken his expectation of respect, which included courtesy and honor, and had quite effectively shot it all to hell.

  She hated being introspective and finding herself wrong. Aaron’s reason for punishing her wasn’t too unreasonable, she had to agree, it was just his method she didn’t like. Now she had to make a decision. Stand her ground and refuse the switching he was determined to give or submit. Was she willing to risk what they had over a switching? Over some bruised pride? How bad could it be?

  Cursing, she began preparing another pair of switches. She felt she was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. Soon she started back toward the house—two stripped and smoothed twigs in her hand—hoping that when she arrived she would know what to do.

  * * *

  Aaron sat in one of the rocking chairs on the veranda. What was taking her so long? He pulled out his pocket watch—thirty minutes. He had expected her to be waiting for him long before he finished with the horse and buggy. It should have taken no time at all to strip two switches. He rose and strode to the far railing. Looking toward the grove of trees, he sighed with relief. She was still there. She appeared to have discarded the last set of switches and cutting more. At this rate, the trees wouldn’t need pruning in the fall because she had cut at least a half a dozen good-sized branches.

  For the tenth time in as many minutes he considered going to fetch her, but once again decided against it. She needed this time to come to grips with what she had done. He still couldn’t believe she had been fighting with the Meyers woman in Ivinson’s store. And she’d cursed in front of several of the townsfolk. The mayor’s and minister’s wives to name two. She wouldn’t have known them, but it shouldn’t matter. She should behave like a lady no matter who was around, for cripe’s sake.

  He sighed heavily and sat back in the rocker, propping his elbows on his knees and raking his fingers through his hair. Was he handling her wrong? What did he know about women from the 21st century? He could barely figure out ones from his own time. He didn’t want to be harsh with her, but the way she acted sometimes was enough to turn him gray before his time. Her language at times was appalling, and the total disregard she had for her own safety made him want to lock her in a safe room somewhere.

  Most of the time, though, she was sweet and utterly lovable. She had certainly charmed his family. She was also funny, feisty, and sassy as hell. He called her on it often, but he didn’t want to break her of it totally. He just wanted her to tone it down some, not dampen her spirit.

  The stories she told of the future were both funny and fascinating, but they also made him wonder what had happened to the man’s role. She was independent, had lived on her own, worked and supported herself. Not unheard of in his day, but certainly not common, especially in Laramie. She must not have had any strong men in her life because she challenged his authority at almost every turn.

  Impatiently, he stalked to the railing to check on her once again. She was whittling on the switches she had cut and appeared to be talking to herself. Her lips were moving, and she kept shaking her head, the glossy curls dancing around her shoulders in her agitation. She was beautiful, and he wanted her more than any woman he’d known. Thankfully, none of their conflicts came while in bed. After she’d told him about her past liaisons, he had expected her to be more experienced. But her three former lovers must have been ham-handed buffoons, because she was as shy and innocent as if she had been a virgin after all.

  He fondly remembered their wedding night. He’d kept her up most of the night, taking her four times and showing himself to be hornier than a three-peckered Billy goat, as Heath would say. He’d have to work her up to that degree of activity. He was actually embarrassed that he had been so aggressive and relieved that he hadn’t put her off by his excessive attentions. He thought the initial newness and having her close and available would have diminished his desires, keeping him sated and in check, but that hadn’t been the case. He took her morning and night, and damn if he hadn’t taken her on the dining room table. Aaron knew by her responses that she had enjoyed it as much he did. He was young, with a healthy appetite. She was sweet, beautiful, and very receptive. This was one area at least where they were perfectly matched.

  With one more glance her way, he decided to give her five more minutes before going after her. Until then, he went back to his chair and tried to relax. He wasn’t looking forward to what he had to do.

  * * *

  When she finally walked up the steps, she returned the closed knife and reluctantly handed over the switches.

  “That took a bit longer than expected. Was there a problem?”

  She shook her head, averting her eyes, not wanting him to see her tears and embarrassment.

  “Are you sure? You can talk to me, Janelle.”

  She wanted to, so badly, but she didn’t know how to begin. Damn her foolish pride.

  “Okay, head on up to our room and get ready like I told you. I’ll be along soon.”

  He sent her off with an intimate pat on her bottom. Her first thought was that she hoped the neighbors hadn’t seen. Her second was that she was keeping the windows closed, because there was no way she’d be able to keep quiet for this.

  Aaron entered about fifteen minutes later and found an obedient
wife for once. She stood naked in the corner as directed. His boots striking the hardwood as he approached sent a shiver up her spine, and it took all of her will to keep from turning around. She was on the verge of doing so when he stepped up behind her, cupping his warm hands around her shoulders. His voice rumbled low, a husky baritone that sent more shivers down her spine. This time they connected with the sensitive nerves between her thighs. Being naked before his clothed body was playing tricks with her mind. Apprehension warred with arousal, and frustration with exhilaration. She wanted to turn and beg him to make love to her instead, but stubborn pride got in the way.

  “Was it so hard to do as I asked, Janelle?”

  “Yes, Aaron.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “Pride?” She paused for a moment, adding silently guilt and shame, because she felt both over her actions at the store and several other times since her arrival. Aloud she added, “As well as bruised dignity.”

  “Hmm… so you don’t feel any regret for your actions at the mercantile? Just injured pride and hurt feelings for having to stand here naked and vulnerable before your husband as you await punishment? Is that about it?”

  “That’s not fair, Aaron. She made me so mad, calling Jenny all those awful names. When Louise had her running from the store in humiliation, I really wanted to claw her eyes out. I know that isn’t acceptable, either here or in my own time, so I used her own weapon against her.”

  “So you thought name-calling and cursing was more acceptable?”

  “Well, no, but I thought it was better than punching her in her self-important nose.”

  “Louise can be overbearing, but she was right about one thing, Janelle. There are decency laws against cursing. Not to mention public disturbances and fighting.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Ignorance is no excuse. Two men would have been arrested. And women…” He paused for dramatic purposes she knew, because her mind instantly conjured up the image of being hauled off to jail in handcuffs by her own lawman husband. Did they really arrest people for swearing, or was it the fighting he referred to? She had laid hands on Louise, so technically that was assault, wasn’t it?

  “Doesn’t it matter that I was defending myself? She came at me first.”

  “Yes, but you don’t have an excuse for your language, do you?”

  “No.” She knew that women didn’t swear and carry on so. It was considered vulgar and indecent, even in 2013. Worse, her verbal altercation with Louise had been witnessed by all those people. They most likely knew about the decency laws he’d mentioned and knew that Aaron could have very well arrested her. Would they criticize him for making concessions for his wife? Surely, no one would have expected that. Of course, the entire incident would reflect badly on him. He was the marshal, for goodness’ sake. She closed her eyes; what had she been thinking? She could imagine the gossip that was already spreading about the marshal’s foul-mouthed and unruly new wife.

  After mulling over and finding much fault with her actions, she said in a quiet voice, “I’m sorry Aaron. Cursing is vulgar and impolite, both in your time and in mine. I also realize that although provoked by that evil woman, my behavior was just as bad and reflected poorly upon my husband and myself.”

  Aaron gave her a warm hug, but only briefly. He seemed relieved, standing a bit more relaxed, and his voice was just a tad less stern. “Good girl. I couldn’t have put it better myself. Have you come up with a better way you could have handled things today?”

  Janelle realized that she hadn’t given that any consideration at all. Frantically, she searched for a solution, but before she could come up with an acceptable 19th century solution, he offered one of his own. “This is why we are having this lesson, Janelle. I’m trying to teach you to think before you act. One of the things you could have done was to go after your friend. She was upset and could have used a comforting hand. That would have also removed you from the situation.”

  “Then Louise would have won.”

  There was a long pause—too long, Janelle thought, as she looked up into his face. He looked angry again and disappointed. “Is that what this is about? Winning? Is that what this power struggle between us is about, winning and losing?”

  Startled, Janelle didn’t know how to answer and remained silent.

  “There is no winner or loser here, Janelle. You don’t win by getting punished, and I certainly don’t win by upsetting you and making you cry.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “So a scene like today doesn’t happen again.”

  Resigned, she knew she deserved a punishment, but did it have to be with the dreaded switch? “Can we please skip the switches?”

  “No. The switch will effectively reinforce the lesson.”

  She felt his lips against her temple before he turned her toward him and kissed her. “I really don’t enjoy this, darlin’. I’d rather spend the evening loving you.”

  “Can’t we do that instead?”

  “Unfortunately, no. I think this is an important enough lesson to earn the switch. Go lean over the bed, flat on your belly, hands beneath your head.”

  She didn’t move an inch. She simply couldn’t. “No.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “No. I don’t want the switch, Aaron.” Tears welled up in her eyes and overflowed when she looked up at him.

  Nonplussed, he stood looking down on her for a moment before he responded. “You are being deliberately defiant, Janelle. Are you telling me now you don’t plan to honor your vows to obey or your promise to follow my rules?”

  “Not this, Aaron. Please, I’ll submit to a spanking, with the hairbrush even, but hitting me with a switch seems unreasonably cruel.”

  “So… Not only are you cherry picking which vows and rules you want to obey, but you want to dictate what punishments you’ll allow, as well?

  “No, I’m not…” she said hesitantly, because that is exactly what she was doing.

  “Yes, you are. I expect you to be an honorable woman and do as you promised, Janelle.”

  “Brides don’t say obey in my time, Aaron.”

  “But my bride did. What if I decided to pick and choose which vows I wanted to follow? How would you feel if I decided to neglect your safety and let you run amok in a frontier town with the drunkards and harlots, and damn the consequences? If I turn my head while you neglect decorum and societal expectations and let you harp at others in a public setting, cursing and spewing vulgarities without a care—would that be acceptable? By your reasoning, I could decide to be dishonorable and be unfaithful to you.”

  She was horrified at the thought of Aaron seeking out the arms of another woman. “No, I didn’t mean—” But her voice came out hushed. He wasn’t listening anyway as he paced the room.

  “I don’t need to remind you that this isn’t the future with electronic gadgets and motor cars. This is 19th century Wyoming, and while we may not be quite as civilized as New York City or Boston, we do have certain expectations. One of those is that decent women don’t curse and fight in public. A wife also submits to her husband’s authority, following rules that are established for her own good.”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t allow this.”

  “You can’t allow it? Well, I can’t allow this behavior to go unchecked. So, it seems we are at an impasse.”

  Walking away from her, he stopped suddenly, breaking the switches and hurling them against the wall. Janelle flinched as it was the first time she had ever seen him lose control. He stood with his back to her, shoulders rigid and hands clenched. She imagined him counting to ten in his head. As time ticked by, she began to worry. Evidently, his anger required he count higher than ten—he was probably closing in on one hundred by now.

  Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to her. His face was strained, and although he appeared calm, his shoulders were tense and he rubbed at the back of his neck as he spoke distractedly. “I need to get some air and cool o
ff before I say something I’ll regret.” Turning he issued a warning, “Stay in the house, Janelle. We’ll discuss this further in the morning when we have both calmed down.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out for a ride.” Walking to the table, he grabbed his Stetson and holster. She hadn’t even realized he’d taken them off.

  “Will you come back?”

  He threw her an exasperated look. “Of course, I’m coming back Janelle. I’m just angry and frustrated right now. If I stay, I’m afraid I’ll do or say something I’ll regret. I could punish you without your consent, but that would make this untenable situation worse.”

  “But, Aaron, surely we can compromise. Isn’t that what a marriage is about?”

  “There are some things that cannot be compromised on, Janelle.” He started toward the door, his long strides taking him quickly away from her.

  Lord help her, he was leaving. What had she done? She was hoping her refusal would weaken his resolve and she could convince him to use something else. If she had just submitted to the switching, it would have been over by now, and he would be cuddling her in their bed.

  “I’m so confused. Why can’t you just use something else?” The tears and unhappiness in her voice stopped him, and he turned back. Wiping her eyes with her hands, she was surprised when he offered her his handkerchief.

  “I understand how difficult this is for you, Janelle. But this isn’t really about the switching, is it?”

  She couldn’t meet his eyes, knowing he was probably right. His eyes were on her; she knew without looking. She could feel their intensity but refused to meet them. The exasperated sigh he let out made her heartache and her stomach clench tight.

 

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