Marshal's Law

by Maddie Taylor

  “I didn’t expect for this to be easy, Janelle, but we can’t continue this tug of war for power in this marriage. You want to do as you please without rules or consequence, and I will not tolerate open defiance and disobedience. This is exactly why two people cannot be in charge in a relationship.” The ominous words hung between them in the room.

  “What are you saying?”

  Moving closer, he slid his hands up her arms, cupping her shoulders. One hand continued up to caress her cheek. “I want us to build a life together, but I won’t have us miserable and arguing all the time. If I were a less principled man or if I didn’t care as I do, this behavior would matter less than a fly on a cow’s rump to me. However, I am an honorable man, and I cherish you already, so I feel it is my duty to correct your behavior for your safety and well-being. That includes protecting your reputation and maintaining the respect of the community.” Leaning in, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “This has happened very fast, Janelle. I know that. I think you need more time to come to grips with it all.”

  Silence hung between them for several minutes before Aaron stepped away. Noticing the mess he’d made, he surprised her with an apology. “I’m sorry for losing my temper. It wasn’t well done of me. Get some sleep, and we’ll talk more in the morning.” Then he left.

  She stood looking after him, tears streaming down her face. In his wake, she whispered, “But you are my rock.”

  When she heard the front door close and his boots thud across the wooden porch, she collapsed on the bed, sobbing out her misery, unable to believe what she had done.

  Staring at the ceiling thirty minutes later, Janelle listened to the silence that pervaded the house. No humming refrigerator or whirring ceiling fan disturbed the stillness. There was no incessantly droning TV or buzzing computer CPU. The quietness was oppressive and made her solitude palpable. Aaron hadn’t been gone long but she missed him terribly.

  Rolling to her side, she stared out the window. The sun was setting and long shadows were moving across the room. It would be dark before long, and she wondered if he would be back tonight. She wouldn’t blame him if he never came back. Her presence had severely disrupted his life, and she did nothing but cause him headaches. He had made sacrifices for her without asking for anything in return, except that she act like a dutiful and respectful wife. Not the vulgar, low-class woman he’d accused her of being today.

  In contrast, Janelle had done nothing but disobey his rules. Rules she had promised to follow. Were his rules so unreasonable? Mostly they were general courtesies. The other restrictive rules were societal, something he had little control over. And the punishments—hadn’t she agreed to accept them, too? The previous times he’d taken her over his knee, the spankings had stung, but had they really hurt as much as she let on? He hadn’t bruised her or left any welts. Sure, the hairbrush had really smarted, but even that had quickly faded and been gone by the next day. Would the switching have been the same? Had she overreacted? Was she pushing him as before to see if he’d break? Well, if that’s the case, idiot, it worked. He was gone.

  A barrage of questions began running through her mind. He was right; they were at an impasse. What if they couldn’t work things out? If she couldn’t live with his discipline, what did that mean? Divorce? That was almost unheard of during this time. If they didn’t divorce, what would they do—live apart? Surely, that would be awkward, and the gossip would be brutal. Besides, she’d still be his wife, his duty, his obligation.

  All the unanswered questions made her head pound. None of this was fair. It wasn’t fair to her, and it sure wasn’t fair to Aaron. She couldn’t see living separate lives as a solution. He wanted a family and deserved to have a wife who could accept his ways. The idea of leaving and letting him move on crossed her mind. If she did that, she’d have to leave Laramie, because when he did move on, the thought of Aaron with another woman broke her heart. That would be unbearable.

  Although neither of them had spoken of love, Janelle knew he already owned her heart. Did he love her in return? He said he cared about her, but did he care enough to put up with all of her drama? He also spoke of honor and duty, which stung. She wanted to be more than a duty to him. Of course he’d put up with her crap, she thought. No matter what, he’d do what was right. She’d learned enough about him in the short time since her arrival to know he was an honorable man. If not for that honor, she’d be in a psych ward or married to one of his brothers.

  Her heart accelerated as she thought about her options. She didn’t have any ties here except for the Jacksons. Was she brave enough to leave him and start out on her own? How would she live? What would she do for money? She could probably go to a big city and find a job in a hospital, but would it pay enough for her to live on? The stories about homeless, jobless women turning to prostitution in her own day were horrifying. Did the poor women of Laramie do the same? The sayings about nickel whores and dollar days at the brothel didn’t seem so funny anymore.

  As she sat there, naked but for the sheet, she felt miserable and heartsick. She was also avoiding the obvious answer to her problem. It had been there in the back of her mind all along—submit. She ignored it. It had started as a whisper—surrender—and had grown louder—yield. She wasn’t ready. It flashed in her mind like a beacon—be the wife that he needs. The wife you want to be. She turned away—intractable fool! She extinguished the light and sound, too stubborn for her own good.

  Her pulse raced faster and her palms were wet. She took in deep breaths of air to slow the panic that was rising within her. It was an innate response to fear and anxiety, which Janelle had in spades. She knew what was happening. It was the survival response… Fight or flight. She responded as she’d done since she’d arrived in this time when things got difficult—she ran.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Jamison!” Aaron’s barking voice blared through the jailhouse, startling his deputy who was dozing behind his desk. “Wake up, Jamison. I need to find Bozeman.”

  “Um… He, uh…” Drowsy from sleep he stammered through an explanation. “He went out to the Johnson spread to investigate some downed fences.”

  “It’s pitch dark outside,” Aaron grumbled. “How’s he gonna investigate rustling in the dead of the night?”

  “Well, Marshal, it was still light when he left. It was well before supper.”

  “Deputy Larson, then. Where might he be?”

  “He’s out at the 6th Street Saloon, breaking up the nightly brawl I guess.”

  “Damn.” Aaron looked at his newest deputy. He was greener than grass, but he’d have to do. “I need you to head over to my house tonight and stand watch. Stay out of sight until I get back.”

  “Uh, sure Marshal. Anything particular I’m watching for?”

  “No. I’ll be out at the ranch for a couple of hours and need someone to keep an eye on things for me.”

  “Okay, but I have rounds to do first.”

  Damn, that would take about an hour, he thought irritably. Surely, Janelle would be all right for an hour on her own. She’d probably be fine without a guard at all, but with his woman, he just never knew. He was more confused by her than any woman of his acquaintance—ever. She ran hot and cold, sweet one moment than sassy and ornery the next. What’s more, she had an independent streak a mile long. Tonight she’d been downright defiant—over a switching, of all things. It was anxiety, he knew. The fear of the unknown. She couldn’t know that he’d planned to give her only five mild swats and a stern lecture.

  He knew that the lead up to the punishment was often the worst part. As a youth, he hated to see the disappointment in his pa’s eyes when he misbehaved and would have taken extra licks any day to avoid the inevitable lecture. Having Janelle cut the switches, strip down to nothing, and then stand in the corner was far worse of a punishment than the actual switching itself. Criminy! Maybe he shouldn’t have given her all that time to think about it and build it up to some unbelievable level of torture in her mind
. But Aaron had wanted her to figure out for herself what she’d done wrong.

  Except, she didn’t respond as he’d expected. Hell, she hardly ever did. Like at the store today. He was actually proud of the way she stood up to Louise Meyers and defended her friend. He was proud that she had so much gumption, but the way she did it was beyond the pale of decency, and her good reputation would suffer for it. He didn’t want her name bandied about by a bunch of old biddies in their gossip circles. He wanted her to make friends, become involved in the community and at church, go to luncheons and teas, and be social. As the marshal’s wife, she should be discreet and respected, not scorned or ridiculed for her brash, unladylike behavior.

  Aaron’s weary eyes followed Jamison, who was checking the load in his weapons before heading out, but his thoughts were of Janelle. The sound of her mournful sobs had followed him out of the house, and it had taken all of his reserves to keep from turning around and going right back up the stairs to her. He’d have ended up giving in to her tears, probably promising to forego the punishment and then making love to her instead. Wouldn’t that reinforce her bad behavior, the opposite of what he was trying to affect? Hell! He was as green as Jamison when it came to managing a wife, and he was obviously doing something wrong. He needed to talk to someone and get some advice, and his pa was the only one who would do.

  “Get out there as quick as you can. I’m heading out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Aaron left without another word and a few minutes later kicked his horse into a faster pace as he headed out of town toward Silverbend. When he arrived about a half hour later, the house was dark. He’d been hoping to catch his pa before he headed to bed. Dragging his exhausted body up the steps, he collapsed on the porch swing, his weight sending it swinging. The creaking chain didn’t penetrate his dispirited brain until the front door opened.

  “Aaron. Stop that infernal swing. All that creaking woke your mother.

  Silence immediately followed. “Sorry, Pa. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “What are you doing here, son?”

  Aaron rubbed both hands over his face, driving his fingers roughly through his hair.

  “First spat, huh? I recognize the signs.” Henry approached and with a gesture told him to slide over.

  “Yeah, we had a disagreement about the rules.”

  “Fighting the bit, is she?”

  “Don’t let Janelle hear you say such a thing, Pa. She’s not a horse.”

  “Sorry, bad joke. Talk to me. It’s probably nothing your mother and I didn’t go through early on.”

  “She’s not used to any sort of rules, Pa. Even as a child, she never experienced real discipline. Her father evidently was more about taking away privileges and something she called a time out. My way is a bit different, and she’s having trouble adjusting.”

  “Heath told me what happened at the mercantile today.”

  “Yeah, she balked at being punished for it.”

  “Did you explain what she did wrong and why you were spanking her?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “She understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “She still didn’t submit?”

  “Not quite. She balked at the form of punishment. But I don’t think that’s it, Pa. I think it’s my authority that’s the problem.”

  “Well, if she’s never been made to mind before, son, I guess that’s to be expected. The best advice I can give is to be consistent and fair with the rules. You also have to be kind. Lots of kissing and cuddling after doesn’t hurt either. It may take some time. Just remember, son, it’s a long road that doesn’t bend.”

  He looked at his pa then, surprised. “She wanted to compromise and take a spanking or a paddling instead of a whipping. Do you think I should have given in?”

  “Would you be sitting here with me if you did?”

  “I don’t remember being able to bargain or finagle out of a whipping when I was a kid.”

  “No, I don’t suppose I ever let you boys get by with much of anything. Being a woman makes a difference son. If you want to keep her sweet on you, a little finesse is required.”

  “Well, hell.” His pa was siding with Janelle.

  “A year or two from now when she does something to earn that whipping, and believe me that little gal will, you’ll have a foundation of love that will sustain you through it. You two don’t have love to build off of, so it’s gonna be a bit more uh… challenging.”

  Aaron snorted at that term. More like impossible, he thought.

  “I know you care for the little imp, son. Do you love her?”

  Aaron thought about that. He knew that right now his heart was hurting with an almost unbearable ache. All he could think about was getting back to her and making ridiculous promises and concessions. He loved her smile, her laugh, her intelligence, and her keen sense of humor. He also knew for damn sure that his body was in love with her, all of her—her voice, her silky hair, her curvaceous body. He felt the familiar tightening in his groin and shifted self-consciously. For cripe’s sake, man. Get it together, you’re sitting next to your father.

  “We’re supposed to head out to Denver in a few days. I thought I might have Janelle stay here with you and Ma until I get back.”

  “But I thought you and Janelle were going together?”

  “We were, but after tonight it might not be the best time. I thought she might need some time alone to think.”

  “Big mistake, son. Never give a woman time to think. They make mountains out of mole hills, and you’ll be left high and dry, with no pot to piss in.”

  That got a small laugh out of him. Talking to his pa always made him see things plainer.

  “My advice, son. Take her with you. Cliff House is as romantic as your mother says, but don’t go spreading it around that I said that. You can spend time together, without your work or life in general interfering. Plus, by spending all that time together, like two peas in a pod, when you get home you’ll be so in love that a few rules and spankings won’t be more than a fart in a whirlwind. I promise.” Henry clapped him on the back and they both chuckled together. “When you get back,” Henry continued, “bring her around, and I’ll have your mother talk to her.”

  “I don’t know about that, Pa. It could be embarrassing for her to talk to Ma about such things.”

  “Son, you know there’s no ruffled feathers your Ma can’t soothe. ‘Sides, it will help if Janelle can talk to another woman. Trust me. I know this from experience. I sat on your side of the swing nigh on thirty-three years ago next month.”

  He whipped his head around and looked at his father. He sounded like he meant he’d been in Aaron’s shoes. “You mean you and Ma? And you took her to talk to Gran? That means Gramps…” Holy cow, he thought. Spanking must be hereditary.

  “Like I keep telling you, son, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  Aaron threw his head back and laughed as those familiar words came back at him.

  “So, are you staying or going?”

  “I’m going. I need to relieve the man I’ve got on watch at the house.”

  Henry laughed. “I figured you’d have all your ducks in a row before heading out here without her. You two will get things straightened out, son. I’m heading back to bed.”

  “Thanks, Pa.”

  “Anytime, son.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thunder rumbled in the distance as Janelle quietly made her way along the side streets of Laramie. Dressed in her aqua scrubs, she avoided the light flickering from doors and windows. She was glad there were no street lights in this part of town, because she wasn’t sure how she would explain her appearance. Someone would probably report the marshal’s crazy wife wandering the streets, dressed in pants of all things.

  She slowed, creeping in the shadows as she came across another busy street, figuring it was another 6th street when she heard shouts, women’s shrill laughter, and the distant report of a gun. She caref
ully detoured around it, praying she wouldn’t get lost again. Finally, she arrived at the street behind the Meyers’ home and picked her way carefully through the trees. The clouds were rolling in, and the moonlight she had counted on was fading fast. She knew it was stupid to expect to find anything in the dark, but all she could think about was getting home. At least she had to try. There had to be something there that they’d missed. A portal or pathway of some kind to return her to her own time and away from Aaron. Digging out her iPhone, she activated the flashlight app as she began searching the woods.

  An hour later, she leaned against a tree, as she tried to stay dry. It was full dark now, and as luck would have, it had started to drizzle. She’d had to put away her phone or risk ruining it in the rain. It had been a useless venture as she had found nothing, and now without the light, she had no idea how to make it out of the thick copse of trees. What an idiot she was for attempting this. Did she really expect a magical swirling vortex to appear out of nowhere, like in the movies? Even if it did, could she bear to walk through it, leaving this time forever, leaving Aaron behind? Just the thought of him made her chest ache, and she realized that even if a time portal appeared before her very eyes in the next moment, she’d turn and walk away.

  The wind picked up as the rain came down harder. Aaron would really be pissed at her for this little stunt, and she had to admit he’d have every right to. In fact, if he were to find her right now to take her back home, she’d go willingly and when she got there gladly bend over his knee and take whatever punishment he decided.

  A branch snapping loudly startled her. Whipping around, she scanned the dark woods for the source. Was it the oncoming storm, or perhaps a wild animal? She couldn’t imagine what kind could be lurking in the woods in rural Wyoming. Wolves? Bears? Another snap sounded, but as she turned to her left, it was hard to pinpoint where it was coming from. Another snap and the whooshing of wet leaves sounded in the trees nearby. Whatever it was, it was getting closer.