The Problem With Jordan

by Joannie Kay

  The sheriff squirmed, but it was the minster who answered, quoting scripture. “Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them. Jordan, you will be Cray’s wife and his responsibility, and none of us would dare to interfere. You will need to behave if you do not wish to face consequences, but I do not feel that Cray will harm you. He hasn’t missed a Sunday in church since arriving here. Now let us proceed…”

  “John, please, get to the marrying part and skip the fancy stuff. I’ve got me a store to open up!”

  Several women hushed him, and the good Reverend continued, and that was how Jordan Smithfield ‘fended’ a husband for herself. As soon as the brief ceremony was over, the buggies and wagons turned around and headed back toward town in one big hurry.

  The problem with Jordan was that she had a hellish temper and could be counted upon to take an already volatile situation and throw fuel on the fire. “This is all your fault, mister!”

  Cray knew he was easy to anger. He’d struggled with the problem since he was a little boy, and most of the time he was able to control that particular emotion, however, when he did lose his temper, it was a sight to behold. He leveled his dark eyes on the female who was still wearing the pants and baggy coat. “There is no time like the present to finish what I started this morning,” Cray said. “And then we’ll discuss whose fault it is that this ridiculous marriage occurred.”

  Jordan put off running for a second too long. Cray caught her and carried her wildly struggling body inside the small house and straight into the bedroom. “No! No! Don’t hurt me!” she screamed, beating on his broad back with her fists. She was terrified that he was going to force himself on her.

  Cray didn’t give a damn how afraid she was. He refused to explain himself to her. She’d earned a good spanking, and he was going to give her one to remember! He threw her down on the bed and wrestled the coat off of her, and then he jerked down those ridiculous pants she was wearing to reveal a pair of thin, worn drawers. Cray didn’t hesitate for one second, but brought the palm of his hand down on her rounded butt.

  Jordan cried out, but one part of her was relieved that he was spanking her and not forcing her to his bed. She tried to remain stoic, but his hand was hard and she’d never been spanked before in the whole of her entire life. Her Pa never paid her any mind, and left the raising of her to his spinster aunt. Aunt Hermione didn’t believe in spanking children. She felt it only taught them to use violence to get their way. She had other ways to punish headstrong children. Jordan wasn’t pleased to be experiencing a spanking now that she was a married woman. “Stop it!” she pleaded.

  “No.” Cray was determined to see to it she didn’t sit for a while, and he continued the spanking for what seemed like forever to Jordan. By the time he finished, she was sobbing. “Do not expect me to apologize for that, little girl. You earned every last spank, and if I catch you stealing anything ever again I’ll stripe you raw with my belt. Is that clear?” he demanded. When she didn’t immediately reply, he gave her another firm spank. “Is that clear?” he repeated. This time she nodded, crying too hard to speak. “Do you have any more to say on the subject of this shotgun marriage being my fault?” he demanded with another firm spank right on top of the last one. She shook her head no. “Neither of us asked for this, Jordan, but it is what it is. When you’re done crying, come on out to the kitchen.”

  He got up off the bed and left the bedroom. Cray had always hated hearing a woman cry. It always made him sad, and even though he knew she’d earned the spanking, he felt bad for correcting her. Cray worked with ease in the kitchen and in a decent amount of time he had a good meal on the table. He walked to the bedroom and opened the door. “Come on out now, Jordan. I have dinner ready and I’m starving. I didn’t get breakfast this morning, and I don’t want this food to get cold.”

  Jordan wiggled to the foot of the bed and then slid off. She reached down to pull up her pants, and was shocked to realize they felt sizes too small. She reached for her coat, but Cray beat her to it.

  “You won’t need this. It’s not cold in here, and one of the first things we’re going to discuss is your clothing. I won’t have my wife wearing pants, or a man’s coat that is miles too big.”

  “The coat was my Pa’s; he was killed back east fighting against slavery,” she volunteered.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Jordan. I lost both of my brothers, one fighting for the north, the other for the south. To them it wasn’t a slavery issue, but an issue of union versus state.” He pulled out a chair for her and she gingerly eased herself on the wooden seat, only to hop up right away and look at him in horror. “Oh hell!” he muttered. He stomped over to the sofa on the far end of the room and returned with a soft pillow. “I won’t do this in the future, but I’m going to make an exception this one time since we need to talk. Sit down.”

  If he’d used a sharp tone of voice with her, Jordan wouldn’t have done it, but the words were more of an invitation, and she was anxious to find out what he had to say. She could always leave after her belly was full.

  “After we finish eating and cleaning up, we’re going to town and get you some new clothes, and we are going to go to the Evans’ house and you are going to explain to them why you gave me their little boy’s name.”

  Chapter Two

  “Timmy’s name was the first one I could think of in the moment,” Jordan admitted, answering Cray’s question with honesty as she squirmed on her chair. Even with the soft pillow, it hurt to sit! Cray spanked really hard.

  “I frightened his poor mother when I went there looking for you,” Cray told her, his look full of disapproval. “At the very least, you owe that woman an apology.”

  “I intended to do that anyway!” Jordan told him just before popping a piece of her steak in her mouth. “Oh gosh! I haven’t had steak this good since Aunt Hermione died!”

  “Enjoy it,” he gruffly ordered, watching her savor the bite. How dare the town let this girl ‘fend’ for herself and not see to it she had decent meals? It was no wonder she was forced to steal food.

  “I am enjoying it because I never know where my next meal is coming from,” she said.

  “You are my wife now, and your meals will be at this table. I don’t even want to hear of you trying to fend for yourself, young lady, or I will take my belt to your butt.” He looked at her expression of disbelief and gentled his tone to speak again. “I won’t let you go hungry, Jordan. Not as long as there is breath in my body.”

  “Are you really so wealthy?” she asked, looking at him intently to see if he was telling her the truth.

  “I’m not wealthy by most standards,” he told her. “But, I am not poor, either. I’m careful of my money, and prefer to work to earn my way.” Cray decided it was his turn to ask a question of the girl. “Why didn’t you get a job when your aunt died?”

  “No one would hire me on permanently,” she admitted. “I think it bothered the wives to think of me bein’ around their husbands. Of course, I would have given them what for if they’d tried somethin’ with me!” she declared. “I was left fending for myself, and I tried not to help myself from those who couldn’t afford it… like Widow Parker. She’s real poor. I was tryin’ to fend a bit for her, too, but she didn’t know it was me leavin’ her food and such.” Jordan looked at Cray and said, “I took her some of your eggs, too.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Cray answered, realizing he meant it. “You may continue to help Mrs. Parker if you want, but instead of fending, we’ll find another way to share what we have.”

  “You aren’t a bad sort, Cray McCormick,” Jordan said, her head tipped sideways as she seemed to see him in a different light. She looked ready to say something, but she shook her head and turned her attention to her meal, as if afraid it would suddenly disappear if she didn’t eat it all within seconds.

  “Slow down, Jordan. No one is going to take away your plate, I promise.” Cray had n
ever seen anyone so hungry and it infuriated him and made him sad at the same time. He felt like raising hell all over someone for letting this poor girl go hungry for so long, but how did he take an entire town to task? “If you are still hungry when you finish that steak, I’ll make you another one,” he stated.

  “Another one?” she repeated, and looked at him in shock. “I think this will be all I can handle. But, thank you kindly,” she said, trying to remember the manners that her Aunt Hermione had attempted to teach her. It was almost too much to believe that he was willing to fix her another steak just for the asking!

  Cray finished his steak before she did, probably because she was forcing down the last few bites. He could see she didn’t want to waste the food. “You know, Jordan, the dog would be happy to finish those last few bites. He hasn’t had too much to eat today,” he added, and had to hide a grin when she jumped to her feet, picked up her plate and hurried outside to feed the animal her scraps. As Cray watched, the dog wagged his tail and was utterly delighted when she put some food in his bowl. He wagged his entire butt and looked at Jordan with love in his dark eyes. Jordan petted him, and then kissed the top of his head.

  Jordan was surprised to turn and find Cray watching her. She stomped back to the porch and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t be watching me all the time. I don’t run from my problems!”

  “You think that I am a problem?” Cray was not amused.

  “Hell, yes, you’re a problem! You’ve already beat on me, and how do I know what you’ll do next? I wish to God I’d never fended here!”

  “That makes two of us, but what’s done is done. You fended here and in the process you fended a husband, girl. Like it or hate it, you are my wife, and I intend to keep a real close eye on you. Now get your butt inside and help me wash up these dishes so we can leave for town. When we get back we’ll go to your place and move anything you wish to bring here.”

  The problem with Jordan was that she didn’t like being bossed around, and now that her belly was full, she was feeling cantankerous. “I don’t want to live here! And I ain’t gonna live here!” Jordan insisted.

  Cray told himself to hold his temper. “Jordan, you are going to live here. We are married, and this is where we live. If you are afraid that I’ll force you to make love before you are ready, I’m giving you my word here and now that I won’t do that. I don’t hold with raping women, and making love to you right now would be the same as rape. I saw some of that during the war, and I won’t ever do that to any woman. No, Jordan, upon my word, you will be safe under this roof.”

  “How do I know you aren’t just saying that to get me to go along with you?” she asked suspiciously, wondering how he hit upon her greatest fear and brought it out into the open for discussion.

  “Girl, all a man has in this world is his word. If he don’t stand by what he says, then he isn’t much good as a man, now is he?”

  “No. But that’s my point; I don’t know you well enough to know if you stand by your word. We are legally married. You have every right to force me to your bed if you want, and no one would say you didn’t have that right no matter how I screamed and cried and said no. You heard the reverend and that Bible verse he quoted.”

  “Yes, I heard him. Did you hear the part about a man not being harsh with his wife and caring for her?”

  “You know that from the Bible?” she asked, impressed in spite of herself.

  “My folks were big on studying the Bible.”

  Just then one of the neighbors from ten miles away came riding into the yard. “That’s Ike Kellogg. He’s here to pick up a harness I mended for him.”

  “I don’t like him,” Jordan said. “I’ll go and clean up the kitchen.” She ran past Cray and up on the porch and inside the small house.

  Cray shook his head at her lack of good manners, but he greeted Ike pleasantly.

  “Was that Jordy Smithfield I just seen here? You’d best watch out fer that one, Cray. She’s a lowborn thief. You cain’t trust her ‘tall!”

  “Jordan’s days of fending for herself are over.”

  “She’s cozied up to ever’ man here ’bouts,” Ike insisted, his lust-filled eyes looking toward the house where she disappeared.

  “Guess you haven’t heard, but as of this morning, Jordan Smithfield McCormick is my wife,” Cray said quietly, his dark eyes warning the other man that he’d said enough.

  “What?” Ike’s whole demeanor changed toward Cray. He paid for the work on the harness, and left with very little more to say.

  Cray put the money in his pocket, wondering why the man hated Jordan so much. Unless he was secretly hiding a crush on the girl and was angry that she wouldn’t have anything to do with him? That was a thought that made Cray smile. His little wife couldn’t get away from Ike fast enough. Cray went up the steps to the porch, and then inside. The kitchen was neat as could be, and Cray was pleased. “Jordan, are you ready to go to town?” he called. There was no answer, so he went to look for her in the bedroom. Her hat and jacket were gone! He went outside and looked around the barn, and the outhouse, but both were empty. The little snippet had off!

  He suspected that she was headed to the shack she called ‘home’, and he started after her. Cray didn’t get far on the path before he heard a voice from above him. “Is Ike gone now, Cray?” Jordan asked. He looked up to see her sitting in a tree.

  “He’s gone. Why are you out here?” he asked, warning himself to hear her out before cutting a branch from the tree and using it to stripe her backside.

  “Ike hates me, and I learned it was better to stay hid when he was around.”

  “Did he try to harm you?” The thought of Ike hurting the little redhead angered him.

  “He claimed he was comin’ to check up on Aunt Hermione, but he would do his best to put his hands on me where I didn’t want him to. One day he shoved me in the woodshed and said if I didn’t do what he wanted, he would beat me and make me do it anyway, and then he would tell everyone I was wicked. Aunt Hermione heard me scream, and she took her broom handle to him. Ever since he’s hated me, and once she was gone, he told me he’d get me and teach me what a woman was good for. So I hide when he is around.”

  “Come here,” Cray gruffly ordered, holding his arms out to catch her as she slid from the tree branch. Once she was on her feet, his hands stayed around her, gently offering sympathy and comfort. “I won’t let Ike hurt you, Jordan. If he threatens you again, tell me. Hear?” When she didn’t answer right away, he gave her a very gentle swat on her sore bottom. “Did you hear me, Mrs. McCormick?”

  “I heard you, but what will you do if I tell you?” she asked, her green eyes wide.

  “I will turn Ike inside out and teach him some manners, that’s what.”

  “You won’t be mad at me?” she asked in surprise. “Ike always said that no one would believe me if I told on him.”

  “He’s wrong. I’ll believe you.”

  “Even if I lied about my name earlier this morning?” Jordan persisted.

  “Do you make a habit of lying?” Cray asked her, deciding to take the high road and not mention she lied to the sheriff about him trying to rape her.

  “No, sir. I don’t do that. I’m not proud of myself for doing it earlier, and I want to say sorry to Alice and Jim, and to little Timmy, too.”

  “I agree we need to take care of that right away.” They started back along the path, and Cray said, “If Ike comes by again, you just stay inside the house, or go inside if you happen to be doing something outside. I won’t ask him in. You don’t need to run off to hide.”

  “All the while I was cleaning up I was worrying that you’d invite him in for coffee. That’s why I ran.”

  “At least you weren’t running away from me.”

  “Is that what you thought?” He gave her one tight nod. “I’m sorry, Cray. That wasn’t on my mind at all. I was scared he’d say mean things about me to you, and I… I was just mad as hell! I thought about getting my Pa
’s shotgun.”

  “You let me do the shooting for this family,” Cray said with a chuckle, and then wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders and gave her a friendly hug.

  “The last time I shot that thing, I knocked myself on my butt, and bruised my shoulder something awful!” she admitted. “Missed what I was aimin’ at, too.”

  “Not human, I hope?”

  “Nope. I wanted some fresh meat, but went to bed without any.”

  Cray soon had the horses hitched to the wagon. He looked at Jordan. “Let’s get movin’. I’ll give you a hand up.”

  “I don’t think I can sit down yet, Cray. You don’t know your own strength. I still burn and sting, and it really hurts.”

  “That just means I did a good job of spanking you, young lady.” He offered her a hand, and after a bit of hesitation, she grabbed it and let him help her up on the wagon. She gingerly sat on the seat, and then he clicked to the horses and headed for town. “You have no family at all, anywhere?” he asked.

  “No one,” she replied. “Mama died shortly after I was born; Pa in the war, like I told you; Aunt Hermione last year around this time. There wasn’t anyone else. Mama was an orphan, and was raised in a place for kids with no parents or relatives. I think that is pretty sad, don’t you? They say her Ma was with a wagon train that was hit by Indians, and Mama’s Pa was killed, then my grandma died having my Mama.”

  “That is a sad story,” Cray agreed.

  “What about you? I know you told me your folks and brothers were gone, but do you have sisters? Or cousins, or aunts and uncles?”

  “No, Jordan. I’m all that is left of the McCormick family. Pa’s brother died as a young man; he was thrown from a horse. Ma lost both her sisters as children. So, no cousins, and no, I didn’t have any sisters; it was just us three boys.”

  “It can be sort of scary sometimes when I get to thinking about being alone. I know that we are married now, but we’re still pretty much strangers, and we don’t feel like a family.”