“Sludge! That’s a horrible exaggeration.”
“Oh, honey, you have no idea. I wasn’t sure if you were trying to poison me or not.”
Janelle had learned that Arbuckle’s was such a popular brand of coffee that everyone referred to all coffee as such nowadays. He was talking smack about her early attempts to brew the nasty stuff, but she was only mildly offended. His coffee jokes seemed to give him no end of enjoyment. So she just rolled her eyes patiently, knowing more was to come before he got it out of his system.
As predicted, Aaron teased some more. “I was thinking of using your coffee on my prisoners during interrogations, but I was concerned I’d get complaints for using cruel and inhuman punishment.”
“Ha, ha, ha, very funny, husband. You know, I heard Vaudeville called, and they want their jokes back.”
Laughing at her quick wit, he pulled her close, wrapping his hands around her waist. “You know I’m just teasing, baby, don’t you? I love your cooking, especially your melt in the mouth biscuits and your apple pie, which is… Well, like you’re always saying—’it’s to die for!’”
“Now that’s more like it, husband. You’re lucky it was only my coffee that needed perfecting. That stove in there is not easy to work with. A lesser woman would have given up and let you starve.”
“I know, sweet pea, and I thank you for trying.” He brushed her lips with a quick kiss. He then pulled out his pocket watch, declaring, “I’d best be making hay while the sun still shines. I’ll see you at lunch.”
Janelle giggled at that. “You Jackson boys sure know how to turn a phrase.”
“Yep, how could we not, with Henry Jackson as our teacher?”
“Your ma’s not bad either. I heard her tell Heath the other day to quit barkin’ at a knot. I had to ask someone to translate ‘cause I never would have figured out she wanted him to hurry up.”
“That’s one of Pa’s, too.”
“How about ‘sick as a poisoned coyote pup’?”
“Pa’s.”
“‘Ornery as a fried toad’?”
“Nope.”
“Pa?”
“You got it.”
“Huh…”
“There is one that Ma says sometimes that’s all her own, although you might not appreciate it much.”
“What’s that?” she asked with narrowed eyes. Seeing the grin teasing his handsome lips, she regretted asking already.
“Well… it seems Pa has a hard time making coffee as well. Unlike you, he’s never gotten any better at it. When he makes it—and that’s not often, but when he does—Ma’s always complaining ‘it’s strong enough to float a colt’.”
“Ha! Now you’re just yanking my chain.”
“Sorry, honey, but round these parts we say, ‘pulling the donkey’s tail’.”
She stared at him for a moment, her wealth of western sayings and colloquialisms tapped out. Then she smiled, happy at the teasing banter that now came so easily and often between them. He was putting on his Stetson and getting ready to leave when she couldn’t resist saying, “Your pa, Aaron, he sure can come up with some real humdingers.”
They both laughed as she launched Henry’s familiar rejoinder about Janelle’s wry sense of humor. Then she leaned up and brushed a kiss along the underside of his chin. It was all she could reach. “Sorry, for being a bit feisty this morning, honey.”
“No more than usual, darlin’. I love your sassy mouth; it brings us both so much pleasure, in more ways than one.”
“Aaron!”
His lips smothered hers with his kiss, muffling her yelp of protest. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll have the coffee brewin’,” she said smiling as she followed him to the door. She saw him shake his head; they both knew she was full of herself this morning. Without another word, Aaron lifted her to eye level, pressed her against the wall and planted a searing kiss on her parted lips, effectively silencing any more sass. While he distracted her with his mouth, one hand lowered to her backside and gave her full cheek a firm squeeze, producing a startled squeal. He didn’t lift his head until she was flustered and out of breath, at which point he gave her one last teasing wink and promptly left for work—whistling.
* * *
When Aaron escorted Janelle into the clinic that afternoon, she was carrying a basket full of herbal remedies for the doctor to try. She had them individually wrapped and sealed in waxed paper, each labeled with instructions for use.
Doc greeted them warmly. “Marshal Jackson and the missus, what brings you in today? Are you ill or expecting, little lady?”
“Neither, sir. I was hoping to have a few moments of your time, if you’re not too busy.”
“Between patients right now, Mrs. Jackson, how can I help? Need information on starting your family?”
Janelle looked at Aaron, a grimace on her face at the man’s condescending manner. The quirk of his lips was a silent ‘I told you so’.
“Actually, sir, I have a business proposition for you.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, the slamming of a door drew the curious eyes of townsfolk as the infuriated woman came storming out of Doc Morgan’s office. She was mumbling furiously as she stomped down the boardwalk. Veering to the right toward an awaiting buggy, she stepped off the boards.
Paying little attention to her surroundings as she fumed over the old man’s narrow-minded thinking, she yelped as a strong arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her backward. As she looked up the stage rattled and sped into town at a dangerously fast clip. She’d been hauled to safety in the nick of time by her husband’s quick reflexes.
“Land sakes alive, woman! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Janelle noticed that she had drawn the attention of several folks shopping on the busy street. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed Aaron was unusually pale, his eyes were closed, and his jaw tightly clenched. Uh-oh!
“I’m sorry, honey. It’s just that man… He made me so mad!” As she thought back on her encounter with Doc, her anger bubbled to the surface again. “That man is a pig-headed buffoon, Aaron.”
“I warned you what to expect from him, and you said you could handle it. Now, can we discuss you storming out into the street without watching where you’re going?”
“But that man just pisses me off to no end. How can he be so foolish when his own patients’ health is at stake?”
“Don’t say piss, Janelle, it’s vulgar. Now, let’s head to the jail where we can have our discussion in private. We’re drawing a crowd.”
She heard his words but didn’t heed them and continued mumbling as he escorted her safely across the street. “Doddering old windbag, wouldn’t know how to pour piss from a boot if the instructions were written on the heel!”
“Janelle, you don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Why? Because I’m angry at the injustice?”
“No, because you’ve got the language of a sailor and are putting on quite a show.”
She looked around and saw that several people had stopped and were staring after them.
“Maybe I should tell them all what a stubborn ass their town doctor is.”
“Janelle! Stop talking before you dig yourself a deeper hole.”
She huffed a frustrated sigh and hurried to keep up with his long-legged pace. Soon she was winded. “Aaron, I can’t catch my breath, slow down.”
“Sorry. We’re here now.”
Janelle looked at the jailhouse that she hadn’t stepped foot in since the day she’d arrived back in August. Aaron released her to talk with his deputy, so she took the opportunity to look into the cell that had been her home for a few torturous hours.
It was dingy, but she noticed the mattress had been replaced, and new bedding was folded at the foot, waiting for its next visitor. The pot in the corner had been replaced with a metal commode chair. She grimaced, but it was still better than a filthy bucket.
Hands closed a
round her shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. “Bad memories?”
“Yes, but thankfully they’re foggy ones.”
“Come over here and let’s have that discussion.”
Janelle froze. He had used that word several times since leaving Doctor Duphus’ office.
“Do you mean a verbal discussion, or a spanking discussion?”
“The latter, of course. Your behavior just now was atrocious.”
“But, Aaron, he made me so mad!”
“I know, but that doesn’t excuse storming down the street using foul language for the entertainment of the town. We’ve talked about this before, Janelle. What is the rule?”
“Respect. How I act is a reflection on you.”
“And?”
“You won’t tolerate foul language and rough behavior from your woman.”
“Exactly. Now get your naughty behind over my lap and let’s get this done.”
“But, Aaron…”
“Stalling and complaining makes it worse.”
Janelle remembered where they were and looked around for his deputy.
Aaron reached out and clasped her wrists, pulling her gently toward him. “I sent Mitchell on an errand. He won’t be back for a while. The door is locked, and we’re alone. Now, get over here.”
She reluctantly but willingly did as he asked. He sat on a wooden bench in the main room, and she was relieved to see he had placed it out of view of the windows. Knowing she deserved a spanking, she eased herself over his lap. Aaron immediately settled her securely in place before lifting her skirts, muttering angrily when he encountered her ‘ridiculous rump cage’, as he called her bustle.
She felt his hands span her waist, and she was upright again, standing between his spread thighs as he loosened the ties on her skirts and petticoats and the built in caging fell to the floor. “What are you doing, wearing all this nonsense? I need a map and a divining rod to find you under all these trappings.”
“It’s what all fashionable, respectable ladies wear these days, Aaron.”
He grunted noncommittally as he pulled her back over his lap. Her split-bottomed drawers made it easy to bare her bottom as he tugged on the string and pulled the back panels apart. Janelle didn’t have time to feel the cool air against her bare skin, because without any preliminaries, he lit into her bottom with gusto. The swats were brisk and stinging, and Janelle soon apologized, begging him to stop. Finally he did, but only to stand her up while he loosened his belt.
“Aaron, surely I haven’t earned that. Even when I ran away you didn’t—”
“What? Strap you? No, but I should have. Your recklessness has to stop—now. You can’t be running around with total disregard for your safety. The stage damn near ran you over today! What if I hadn’t been there to pull you back?”
Aaron’s voice was raised, which was unusual, and his former pallor had been replaced by twin flags of color on his cheeks. She recognized it wasn’t the language, or the town folks seeing her naughty behavior that made him angry. It was because he’d been afraid for her life.
“I’m so sorry, Aaron.” She sniffled as she watched him sit back on the bench, the leather belt doubled in his fist so it formed a large loop, the buckle enclosed in his hand so that the metal couldn’t strike and injure her skin.
Guilt washed through her. She acted like a twit sometimes and told him so as she quietly went back over his lap. “I really am sorry. I should have looked before I stepped into the street. I learned to look both ways a long time ago. I’m sorry for scaring you, Aaron.” Her voice broke on the last few words, and a little sob escaped. Surprisingly, she wasn’t afraid of the strap, knowing that this punishment was as much for him as it was for her. He needed to teach a lesson, and she needed to remember the lesson so she never frightened him again.
Janelle jumped when she felt his hand caress her warm skin. Praying he’d get it over with soon, she wrapped her hand around the leg of the bench and the other around his ankle, preparing for the worst spanking of her life.
The next moment, she saw something fly across the room and heard it clatter on the wooden floor. What in the world? Her thoughts were redirected to her bottom when he resumed the spanking, only using his hand. Craning her head around, she searched until she found it—his belt lay discarded in the corner on the floor. The swats resumed firmly—again and again until she was burning and tingling and sobbing over his lap. But Janelle’s tears weren’t from pain, although the burn was far from comfortable. Instead, they were tears of guilt and shame for once again causing Aaron needless worry by her recklessness. At long last, she was learning the lessons he had been trying to teach for months.
When he stopped and sat her upright in his lap, he hugged her tightly as if he’d never let go.
“New rule—no switches or straps, I can’t bear it.” His voice was raw with emotion as he buried his face in her hair. “Please, sweet pea, promise me you won’t do anything as foolish as that again. I can’t lose you.” She barely noticed the friction of his scratchy woolen trousers against her tender skin as she returned his hug, squeezing him tightly, whispering her love for him against his ear.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Janelle didn’t give up on Doc, despite her failed first visit. Instead, she used her charm on him—plus an offering of homemade cookies or cupcakes each week—taste tested first by Aaron, of course. Even if she wasn’t the best cook in town, she knew she could bake and used it to her advantage. Each basket of goodies also contained packets of her herbals, which she left for him to try. “No obligation, of course,” she told him cheekily, as she gave him a wide-eyed smile.
She also left a limited amount at Ivinson’s Mercantile and Mrs. Mayhew’s dress shop. The customers were directed to tell Doc of the herbal’s effects on their ailments and discomforts. Doc was skeptical at first, but started coming around as word on the street spread about Mrs. Jackson’s medicinal herbs. In fact, he stopped by the house to meet with her one afternoon.
After their meeting, she was bursting with excitement to talk to Aaron about it. So the minute he walked through the door, she grabbed his coat and hat as she chattered a mile a minute. Practically pushing him through the house, she maneuvered him toward the dining room and into his chair. She rattled on as she began to clear a spot for him at her workspace, their dining room table, which was currently covered with a multitude of herb packets.
“Calm down, honey. You keep talking nineteen to the dozen, and I can’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. What’s this about Doc and your herbs?”
“I’m so excited, Aaron. You know I love being your wife, right? However, I need something to do, something that will help others. That’s why I became a nurse. Doc Morgan came by today and asked me about my herbal medicines. We talked for two hours. Oh, Aaron, that poor man is woefully uneducated. I know more with my nursing degree than he’s learned in forty years of medical practice. Did you know he only apprenticed with his father and had no formal training? It boggles my mind that there are no standards of practice, even now. He wants me to come work for him as an herbalist, Aaron. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Whoa! What do you mean work for him?”
“He wants me to consult. I guess that’s the best term for it.” Her excitement dimmed a little when she saw the frown on his face. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited for me?”
“How often would this be?”
“We didn’t really get into schedules or anything. I imagine it would be when the clinic is open and if he needs me to go on house calls with him.”
“That office is open six days a week and often until late in the evening. He works all the time. So much so that his wife left him and went back East to live with her family. If he needs help with his practice, he should hire another physician.”
“What are you saying, Aaron?”
“I don’t like this idea, Janelle.”
Stunned, she could only stare at him.
“I can tell you’r
e upset by this, but married women work in a family business, or they take care of their own. That’s how it’s done.”
“But I can help people, Aaron. Like I helped you when you were shot. I have a lot of knowledge and—”
“I know that, Janelle. I saw firsthand what you could do, both when you were sick with fever and with my gunshot wound. I don’t doubt your medical skills at all. So it pains me to have to say this, but I don’t want you getting bogged down with Doc’s practice. He’s out all hours of the day and night treating patients all over Laramie and the isolated outlying areas. I don’t want you exposed like that. Why just last fall some outlaws held him up at gunpoint on his way back from a house call. Sorry, honey, but the answer is no.”
There was a long silence while Janelle tried to assimilate his concerns with this new information. She could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw that his mind was indeed made up. Quietly and with amazing self-control, she excused herself. “Pardon me, but I need a minute alone before I say something that will get me in trouble.”
Without looking at him, she turned and walked out onto the back veranda. Concentrating on taking deep breaths, she counted to ten. She knew she lived in a male-dominated society, but the reality staring her in the face was inconceivable. When ten didn’t suffice, she counted to one hundred.
After about ten minutes, she felt more in control and went back in to face her stubborn husband. Aaron was standing in the parlor, looking out the front windows, when she came back in. In a quiet voice she asked, “Are you forbidding me from doing this, Aaron?”
When he looked at her over his shoulder, Janelle knew the answer was not going to be something she wanted to hear. “I’m sorry, Janelle, but you have a job. Taking care of the house and being here for me and our twin sons that will arrive sometime in the near future is a huge responsibility.”
“I know that, but women of my day do both. They manage jobs and families, finding both rewarding and fulfilling.”
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