Chapter 6 #2
Her hands fisted on her hips, and Mac was ready to throw her over his lap after all. “Whitney,” he growled in warning. “You’re deliberately being difficult. Is it such a sacrifice to marry me? I know you want me. And don’t bother to deny it, your body betrays you every time I touch you.”
She tossed her head. “And maybe that’s just plain old lust talking,” she jeered.
His eyebrow shot up. “Are you saying you’d let me make love to you even if you didn’t love me?” Surely, she didn’t mean that.
She shrugged. “I don’t know...maybe.”
That did it. With those words, she’d relegated him to a one-night stand, the little brat.
Here he’d been protecting her honor, and she was flippantly saying it didn’t matter.
In one quick step Mac had her by the forearms. “Little girl, you’re asking for a spanking like you’ve never had before.
” He dragged her to the hay bale, where he sat, pulled her across his lap, and began swatting the seat of her jeans.
“Let me go, Mac,” she demanded, trying to scramble away from his punishing hand.
He just pulled her back in place. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m tired of your nonsense. Either you want to get married or you don’t.” He paddled her with the full force of his arm across the seat of her pants, making her buttocks bounce and spring back.
“Stop it right now,” she screeched, her arms and legs flailing uselessly.
But Mac was done with her attitude. He continued the painful punishment and laid down the law at the same time.
“This is how it’s going to be, brat. If you decide to marry me, then you’ll be at the church tomorrow.
If you aren’t there, I’ll figure you changed your mind, and I won’t bother you again.
And if we do get married, there’ll be no waiting for three damned months before I make love to my wife! ”
“I won’t be there,” Whitney sobbed furiously. “You can’t make me.”
“I don’t intend to make you do anything,” he replied, finishing up with several hard swats that made his palm hot. He was pretty sure her butt was hotter, though. He allowed her to roll off his lap, and he stood up, watching her glare up at him from the floor.
“I hate you,” she yelled, the tears trickling down her cheeks.
He picked up his hat and slapped it against his leg.
“That’s too bad, because I still love you, but I won’t put up with any more nonsense.
I know you’ve been through a rough ordeal today, and had to process your dad coming home and all that means, but so have I.
How do you think I felt when I saw those men closing in on you?
And you left the house without taking your rifle.
You deserved to be spanked for that if nothing else,” he punctuated each sentence.
“You’re an independent little cuss, Whitney, but in my house, I’m the one in charge.
I suggest you think on that long and hard because when you don’t mind me, you’ll be getting your little butt whooped.
You can count on it. If you can’t live with that, then by all means, don’t show up tomorrow.
But I’m hoping you are woman enough to realize that we have something good here, and to take advantage of it. ”
He turned and started backing down the ladder, his eyes never leaving her face until he couldn’t see her anymore.
He moved slowly, giving her time to think it over.
She didn’t call after him or try to stop him, and his heart was heavy with disappointment.
Maybe she didn’t love him enough after all.
If that was the case, then it was better to know now than later.
He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs to give her another chance, but she didn’t appear at the ladder. Finally, he turned and strode away.
***
ONCE MAC’S FOOTSTEPS disappeared, Whitney sat up on the hard wooden floor, wincing from the pain in her bottom.
He’d spanked her hard, and she knew she’d feel this one for a few days.
Watching his face disappear from her view had felt like a part of her heart was dying.
She couldn’t get the words out that would keep him with her, though.
Her mind was in too much of a jumble, and she needed time to sort it all out.
Maybe it was better this way; they’d been glued at the hip practically for the last three days.
With a sigh, she flopped backwards to relieve the pressure on her buttocks and turned to her side.
The tears just kept coming, and she felt like a leaky faucet that needed a new washer.
As she thought about it all, she realized she had been acting pretty ridiculous.
Whoever heard of waiting three months to make love after you marry?
It would never work out, not when two people were so attracted to one another.
What had she been thinking? Besides, Mac wasn’t the kind of man to take orders, and in reality, she would never want a weak man she could push around.
Mac was strong, protective, and patient.
Until he wasn’t.
She reached back and rubbed her aching buttocks.
He sure packed a wallop. She wasn’t sure how long she lay on the hay floor, but the light was fading and she was getting cold.
A small part of her had been hoping he would come back, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.
With a deep sigh, she sat up and rubbed her face with the sleeve of her jacket.
Might as well stop feeling sorry for herself and head into the house.
Backing carefully down the ladder, she jumped off the last two steps.
Buck was in his stall, so her dad must be back.
She hadn’t even heard him come in she’d been so absorbed in her own misery.
Disconsolate, she trudged across the yard.
If not for Mac, things would be a lot different right now; she might be a prisoner of those two horrible men.
That did go on the plus side of marrying the man.
Opening the door of the log home, she stepped into the warmth and took off her jacket and hat, then turned to her family in the kitchen. Her dad was dishing up the turkey and noodles she’d prepared earlier today, which had been left sitting on the back of the stove.
“Are you hungry?” Daniel asked quietly, studying her as she walked to the table.
“Kind of,” she replied. She tried not to wince when she sat down in the hard chair next to Amelia as her dad put a bowl of the hot food in front of her. “Thank you.”
“Biscuit?” Luke asked, passing her the bread basket politely.
She nodded gratefully and took one of the biscuits while Amelia slid the butter crock towards her.
“Butter for Witty,” the little girl crooned with an angelic smile.
Whitney couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, Amelia. You know I love butter.”
Amelia reached up, and her baby-soft little hand with a dimple in it patted her face. “Witty loves Mac too...even when he ‘panks.”
“That’s enough, Amelia, finish your soup now,” Daniel urged his younger daughter with a firm expression.
Whitney tried to butter her roll and pretend she didn’t hear what her sister said, but she could feel the hot red creeping up her neck.
With her head bent, she dipped her biscuit in the soup, took a bite, and picked up her spoon.
She didn’t know why she felt so mortified.
Family discipline was never a secret. How could it be with the lack of privacy?
No one usually pointed it out, though, and that was the mortifying part.
Knowing they had all probably heard her yelling from the barn made her feel like crawling under a rock.
Daniel started a conversation with Luke about the cougar, and Whitney tried to eat as much of the soup as she could, but it all tasted like sawdust in her mouth. Her appetite was totally gone, and all she wanted to do was go to her room, but she didn’t.
A few hours later, Luke and Amelia had gone to bed. Whitney washed the dishes and tidied up the little kitchen. Menial tasks helped her think and restored order to her mind. Amelia’s words kept creeping back into her thoughts. ‘Witty loves Mac too...even when he ‘panks.’
She sighed heavily when she sat down across from her father and stared at the logs crackling in the fireplace. He was looking at an old hunting magazine. His gaze flew up and cornered hers. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” she finally replied, breaking his gaze and turning back to the fire.
He was silent for a moment, and then he spoke.
“Mac’s a good man, honey. I saw him once at the market in Bolton last spring with his mother and his sister.
I did some checking around then, knowing we were going to be neighbors.
Sooner or later, the two of you would have met.
There was always the possibility that you might be drawn to one another. ”
Whitney snorted. “He caught me poaching his property. If I’d been a better hunter, he still wouldn’t know who the poacher was.”
Daniel chuckled. “Always full of piss and vinegar, just like your mama,” he replied.
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
“You know, the shotgun was just for his benefit. I wanted him to know he couldn’t use my daughter and get away with it.
I was pleased to find out that wasn’t the case, but even if it weren’t, I still wouldn’t have forced you into marriage with a no-good varmint.
But I do think that if you’ve talked about marriage already, then getting married tomorrow wouldn’t be a bad idea at all. ”
“I just wasn’t expecting it so soon. I thought we had more time...to get to know each other...before...you know. What if he changes his mind?”
Daniel smiled. “He won’t change his mind. He has that same look of longing in his words that I felt about your mother.”
“Are you sure, Daddy?” Whitney asked doubtfully.
Daniel nodded knowingly.
Whitney stirred restlessly, staring into the fire. “Even so, I reckon there are a lot of things going through my mind lately. He has a very bossy attitude, and I don’t like being told how things are going to be. I want a say in things too.”
“I reckon I made the same mistake Mac did with the being bossy parts.” His eyes gleamed at her in amusement. “It didn’t take your mother long to straighten me out, though, God rest her soul.”
“I miss her so much.” Whitney’s throat threatened to close up. She could really use her mother’s advice now.
“I do too, honey.”
They were both quiet for a moment, then Daniel stood up.
“So that you know, I left a little something for you in your closet. I picked it up in town after I heard those fella’s talking about Mac.
Figured it couldn’t hurt, depending on the situation.
We’ll be attending church in the morning, but you don’t have to wear it if you decide you don’t want to.
” He walked over, made sure the door was barred, and then came back to place a kiss on top of her head. “Good night, daughter.”
“Good night, Daddy.”
After he left the room, Whitney’s curiosity kicked into full gear.
He’d bought her something? She badly needed a winter coat, but it didn’t seem like he was talking about a coat.
Deciding she couldn’t stand not knowing any longer, she got up and went to her room.
Once inside, she opened the closet door.
A garment bag was hanging directly in front, with another bag on the same hanger.
She grabbed it and went back into the living room, where she could see it better.
She opened the smaller bag and gasped when she realized it was her mother’s headpiece she’d worn at her wedding.
The bag also held Danielle’s gold necklace with the blue sapphire teardrop.
A memory surfaced of her dad holding her on his lap when she was eight years old, and her chattering about how she loved her mother’s teardrop necklace.
And all about how she wanted to wear her mother’s white wedding dress and the necklace when she got married. ..just like her mother.
Her eyes started to leak again, and she sniffled as she laid the items aside and carefully opened the garment bag.
Her mother’s wedding dress had been destroyed when a raccoon had found a way into the attic of their old home.
It had been torn and ruined as a mother raccoon had gleefully built herself a nest for her babies in the precious materials.
Her mother had been devastated, but the damage was too extensive to be repaired.
Nibbling on her lip, she lifted the dress from the bag and slowly spun it around.
It wasn’t exactly like her mother’s dress, but it was pretty darned close.
Her father had remembered her childish, romantic dreams. Something old, the headpiece, something new, this dress.
Something borrowed, something blue, the teardrop.
It all fits. Whitney felt as if her heart would burst.
Carefully, she put everything back in its respective bag and returned it to the closet. Then she sat in front of the fire and thought deeply about Mac and what to do about her future.