Chapter 8
B en watched his wife as she hurried down the hallway. He knew he needed to do something for his best girl. Coming into the house and finding blood on her, and then her injured thumb, had sent his blood pressure through the roof. Knowing what was eating at her and doing nothing about it didn’t feel right. He was allowing her to hurt herself and he couldn’t have that.
He turned and stared out the kitchen window looking at the swirling bits of snow. Giving her time to get prepared would make it easier for what he wanted to do. She might not like it and he didn’t want to get into a tussling match with her.
He gave her ten minutes, then followed her down the hallway and quietly opened the door. Her back was to him, her perky little bottom in her pink knickers showing beneath the filmy white material. “That’s what I like to see.”
She whirled around to face him, a hungry look in her eyes. Good, he wanted her to feel that way. His eyes traveled up and down her body with his own hungry graze and she blushed in spite of the time they’d been married already.
Ben closed the door behind him and shed his clothes except for his thermal underpants. He switched off the overhead light and watched the moonlight from the window gleam off her bare skin. Then he padded to the bed in bare feet and turned the covers back before sitting down.
Dottie sashayed to him and he grabbed her hands in his and brought her between his knees. “Do ye know how much I love ye, Dottie?” he asked, sliding his palms around her waist and down into her knickers which he then slid off her silky body.
As she stepped out of her knickers, she nodded her head. “Aye, I do,” she whispered.
“I don’t think I’ve shown ye just how much I love ye though. A man has to protect his best girl and I think I’ve been remiss in that.”
“Nay, ye haven’t,” she protested.
She leaned down to give him a kiss. The slight scent of her cinnamon shampoo and the natural scent of her body slid up his nostrils. He put his hands around her waist and guided her down and over his left knee before she realized what he was doing. “Nay, I’ve been remiss. There are ways to relax a lass when she’s had a rough day and I should have been doing it. I just wasn’t sure ye would like it.”
Dottie’s elbows dug into the sheet on the bed as she caught herself and she gasped. “What are ye talking about, Ben? What are ye doing?”
When he lifted her legs so she was completely over his lap, she tried to roll off.
“None of that now,” he cautioned, pulling her in closer to his body. “Just relax fer me.”
“How can I be relaxed in this position,” she snapped, glaring back at him. “It doesn’t feel relaxing at all. What are ye up to?”
“Just trust me, Dottie.” He lifted his arm and watched her buttocks clench in anticipation. When he smacked her right globe, she sucked air. Then immediately, he began to soothe the sting with his palm.
“Ouch...Ohhh.”
Once she relaxed again, he did it several more times all over her bum. At least she wasn’t trying to roll off anymore. “How’s that feeling, honey?” he crooned softly, his hand and fingers doing things he’d never done before in a position like this.
“It’s...it’s not too bad,” she replied honestly.
Her breath caught when he went back to spanking, this time a little harder. “Ye are so beautiful, Dottie. “I love ye so much. I don’t like to see ye upset and hurting like ye are. The holidays can be such a stressful time and I should have been more helpful to ye. Taken off some of the burdens ye are under.”
“Oh, Ben,” Dottie groaned when he went back to touching her, the dampness between her legs signaling how close she was getting to feeling really good.
Her entire body was trembling and he upped the ante to a session of really hard spanks that had her legs stiffening. She squealed in protest until his fingers slipped inside her. Several times he followed the same pattern until she stiffened, made that funny keening noise he loved, and went off like a firecracker bucking over his lap. Then she dissolved into a limp lump and started crying.
Ben held her and rubbed his palms over her bright red buttocks, trying to calm her. “It’s all right, I love ye, Dottie.”
She didn’t seem to be settling down though. Her face was in the sheet and she was sobbing her little heart out until Ben became concerned. Finally, he lifted her up and cuddled her with her hot bottom between his thighs. “Ye need to settle, honey, no more crying now.” He lifted her chin up to look into her tear-drenched face. Are ye just that tired then? Is the crying helping?”
“Oh Ben,” she sobbed brokenly, finally spilling her guts. “I don’t deserve yer kindness and yer patience. I’ve been lying to ye about the dishes I made fer Neamh. I paid fer them without asking ye. I’m way over budget and I deserve yer censure and anything else ye want to do to me,” she wailed, covering her face with her hands. “Just don’t beat me too hard, please?”
Ben couldn’t help grinning, this was what he’d been hoping for. Darro was right, it was between him and Dottie and he needed to be the one to decide how to handle his wife. So, he’d gone with his instincts when the opportunity arose. “I know, honey.”
Her hands dropped and her mouth was a round O of surprise. “Ye know? How did ye know? How long have ye known.”
She sat up straighter and winced as she stared him in the face. Her mascara was ruined and her cheeks were wet, but Ben thought she was adorable. Her big blue eyes shone with tears and a few dripped off her chin. He reached up and brushed them away with gentle thumbs as she hiccupped and heaved a big sigh.
“I’ve known since I found the receipt in the grocery box in the truck this morning,” he admitted.
“Oh,” she said in a small voice, dropping her gaze from his. “Are...are ye going to spank me?” She nibbled on her left thumb.
Ben took her hand from her mouth and lifted her chin. “I just did.”
Her face turned red. “That was it?”
“Are ye sore?”
She nodded. “Aye, very sore.”
“Do ye want me to spank ye some more?”
“Nay.”
“Are ye going to go over budget again without telling me?” he asked.
She shook her head vigorously. “Gawd no. This was bad enough.”
“Ye promise?”
“Aye, Ben,” she replied with an unusual meek attitude.
“Then tell me what’s up with ye and cooking?”
She stared at him.
“I mean it. No more hiding yer feelings, Dottie. I’m not a mind reader, ye need to tell me what’s going on. And if ye refuse, I will get my belt and ye won’t like that at all.”
She sighed and finally nodded her head. “I let things get out of hand, Ben. I resented ye fer talking me into taking lessons when I had told ye plainly not to depend on me fer cooking. It felt like ye ignored that and went right on with what ye wanted me to do. Nay, expected me to do. And I tried because I love ye too, and I wanted to please ye. But by doing so I was compromising what I had already told ye.” She glared at him then. “Admit it, ye wanted me to suddenly turn into a cook...to enjoy cooking like all the other women...and I was never going to be that woman. So, I did things I shouldn’t have, like ruining dishes on purpose so ye and everyone else would get the message. I didn’t mean to; it just became a habit and then I was stuck in a situation I resented.”
“I see,” Ben replied as everything suddenly fell into place. Something he had already been wondering about if he was honest with himself. Part of the blame lay at his feet.
Dottie shifted uncomfortably. “The only problem was, once I had everyone trained to think I was useless as a cook, I suddenly felt left out at the meeting. All hands were needed and I was ignored and shifted into the useless category by mutual unspoken consent. It felt terrible and I hated it. I’m not used to not excelling. So, my mouth ran away with me and the whole nightmare began,” she finished miserably. “I’m sorry, Ben.”
He gathered her in his arms and hugged her. “I’m sorry too, honey. This is partly my fault. I should spank ye fer sabotaging the food instead of just telling me, but I can’t bring myself to do it when I’m to blame as well. Plus, I don’t want ye to be bruised, yer little bottom is already deep red, yer thumbs are raw, and I think ye have suffered enough. After the holidays, we’ll sit down and figure this out together, I promise. Right now, I want to make love to my little wife,” he said hoarsely, standing up with her. He untied the one ribbon on the front of the negligee and let if fall off her shoulders, then turned her toward the bed.
Dottie scrambled into the bed, her roasted little bottom sticking up like Rudolph’s red nose. It put him firmly into the Christmas spirit. “Ho...ho...ho, here I come,” he faux caroled and slid in next to her.
“Hiya, Santa, I hope ye have a present fer me,” she giggled.
“One we’ll both enjoy,” he assured her.
And then there was no more talking.
His Dottie slept like an angel that night.
***
T he Christmas party at Neamh started at 2:00 p.m. and Dottie was very nervous. It was time to face the music, pay the piper, whatever you wanted to call it. Her deception with the Clootie Dumplings was now known among close family members. They would all be staring at her, disapproving of her, and whispering behind their hands when she came into the house.
She was sure of it. She was going to be mortified and humiliated, but she had it coming and had to endure it. The time of reckoning was upon her.
Ben had tried to reassure her that only a few knew, and they had already guessed that something was up with the lasagna. Her diligence in creating her illusion of a horrible cook had seen to that. Like his dad and Darro.
Dottie loved her father-in-law, but he could be a right pain at times. His garrulous ways generally kept everyone laughing except she didn’t want to be the butt, pardon the expression, of any of his joking comments. She was embarrassed enough as it was. She couldn’t help but lift her thumb to her lips once more. The one that didn’t have a broken skin sore on it that is.
Ben grabbed her hand and forced it into her lap. “Stop that right now, Dottie,” he scolded.
“I can’t help it,” she wailed, settling for just shaking her hands as Ben pulled the truck into Neamh and found a parking spot behind the barn. The front area was full of SUVs and trucks of people who had come to the party. Family and close friends only, but that was still quite a number of people.
“Put yer gloves on then,” he instructed as he turned the truck off. “Those flesh-colored ones I bought fer ye to wear. At least there’s a layer of cloth between yer thumbs and yer teeth.”
She glared at him. “I can’t wear those inside the house, people will think I’m weird.”
Ben shot her a stony glare, his eyes gleaming with a new steel she was beginning to worry about. “Ye will wear them, or ye will be sporting a red-hot bottom before we even get inside. And I’ll make sure to take ye into a bedroom every now and then and keep those wee globes nice and red,” he growled.
Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Dottie obeyed him and put the gloves on. They came up underneath the sleeves of her red Christmas sweater and they weren’t quite as awful as she thought they would be. Maybe she’d get lucky and everyone would be so focused on her horrible faux pas of the food variety that no one would notice. Worst case, she could always keep her hands in her jean’s pockets.
Since they had parked behind the barn, they walked around and entered through the back door. As they came into the festive kitchen, the party appeared to be in full swing. Christmas carols were playing in the background and the smells were heavenly.
Dottie’s stomach rumbled as she sniffed the air. Two huge roast turkeys with all the trimmings were sitting on the kitchen cabinet and Darro was slicing bits off of them with an electric knife. He placed the slices on two big platters while Lucerne chattered regarding the stuffing inside the birds.
Poppy was just taking pans of yeasty hot rolls out of the oven to go with dinner, her face flushed and her eyes bright. Even the Christmas biscuit jar was overflowing, its lid sitting on the cabinet beside it.
The bench style kitchen table was loaded with desserts of every kind, including her Clootie Dumplings. She recognized the dyed red string on the bags. Then she noticed there was another tray of Clootie Dumplings and again she wondered if they were Bens. Someone had made traditional Christmas pudding, and there were Christmas biscuits, huge iced cupcakes of all flavors, Christmas crackers, and many other special treats and snacks.
Poppy looked over at her and Ben and smiled. “Hello, you two, you’re just in time. Dinner is in 15 minutes. Everyone else is in the living room and dining room area.” She winked at Ben and smiled.
Dottie caught the wink and wondered what that was about?
Pauley walked in with Jamie and surveyed the goodies with a practiced eye, then smiled at Dottie. “I see two Clootie Dumplings, Dottie. Did ye bring both?” she asked, her sparkling brown eyes giving no indication that there was anything amiss.
Dottie studied her carefully. Mayhap Jamie and Pauley didn’t know. “Umm...nay...mine are the ones with the red string. I don’t know who brought the others.”
Lucerne spoke up. “There was a note saying they were a surprise fer someone special, that’s all we know. We don’t even know fer sure how they got there. They just appeared.”
That was when Dottie realized this probably was the treat Ben had made to surprise her. She had the best husband.
Pauley’s eyebrows lifted in excitement. “Sounds like another mystery. As if All Hallow’s Eve wasn’t bad enough this year,” she added with a chuckle.
“Yer the detective, lass, figure it out,” Jamie teased.
Pauley cocked her head to consider that. “Mayhap I should taste one...just to be sure someone isn’t playing a trick on us and made them with salt or something.”
Darro groaned and pointed the carving knife at Pauley. “That’s the weakest detective strategy I’ve heard yet.” He chuckled and shook his head.
“Well...someone has to volunteer,” Poppy added, her eyes twinkling. “So far, no one we’ve asked has admitted to bringing them.
“Volunteer fer what?” Angus asked, coming through the kitchen doorway.
“To taste the mysterious Clootie Dumplings,” Poppy replied. “No one has admitted to bringing them.”
Angus rubbed his stomach. “This is a job fer an expert palate. I’ll have to be the one to taste them.”
They all hooted at him, but Pauley stepped aside and waved Angus to the table. “Be my guest. If they are laced with arsenic, there is a doctor in the house and I know the symptoms of arsenic poisoning.”
Angus’s eyebrows crawled to the top of his head. “Only a detective would come up with a theory like that about a simple food dish. Jamie, control yer wife, lad.”
Jamie grinned. “She has a point, ye bampot.”
Darro walked over to the table. “Since ye are the one with a bottomless pit fer a stomach, I say ye should taste them. Ye will still have plenty of room fer everything else on the menu.”
“I’ve already put in three hours herdin’ strays into the north pasture,” Angus protested. “Ye work me hard and then expect me to have a dainty appetite? Not goin’ to happen.”
Darro grinned. “Dainty is nae the word fer yer appetite, ye old coot. Go ahead, open up one of the sacks and take it out. Let’s see this dumpling that has everyone so curious.”
Dottie was more than relieved that no one even shot a furtive look her way. Mayhap Ben was right, mayhap most of them didn’t know. The relief was overwhelming.
The advent of a mystery food donor seemed to be keeping everyone speculating. She knew there were several other women there, including the Chief Inspectors wife who had a good reputation as a cook. Chief Inspector Quinn Tannock was a good friend of Darro and Jamie both, so they had been on the guest list for today. She had to assume Poppy had somehow sneaked it in for Ben.
Dal and Luca, Pauley’s son, walked in together and the circle opened to let them in. “Why is Angus getting dessert first?” Dal asked curiously. “Oh...it’s the mysterious Clootie D,” he added. “Maybe Ainsley made it,” he offered.
Lucerne shook her head. “No way Ainsley made it. Not that she couldn’t, but ye can’t make Clootie Dumplings and no one know about it unless ye live alone. It’s time consuming and messy. If she made it, it wasn’t done here.”
“It looks good,” Luca offered with a boyish grin. Luca and Dal had become friends when Luca was hidden at Heaven’s Gate during a murder investigation. “Sure ye don’t want some help with that, Angus?”
Angus shot him an affronted glance. “Ye just be keepin’ yer hands to yerself, laddie. This requires a professional palate.”
They all laughed as he removed the sack from the dumpling and admired it. “It has good color, that’s fer sure. Someone hand me a knife so I can cut a slice.”
Poppy brought him a cake knife. “Here you go, honey.”
Angus carefully cut a small slice of the rounded cake and laid it on a paper dessert plate then picked up a plastic fork. “Here we go.” He cut a piece off with the fork and placed it in his mouth.
They could all see his tongue swirling around in his cheek, his eyes closing, and a groaning sound coming from his closed mouth. Everyone watched closely, especially Dottie. She was wondering how Ben’s dumplings would stack up against her professionally made dumplings.
At last Angus opened his eyes. “Verra verra good,” he pronounced, digging his fork in again. “Excellent in fact. Almost as good as Lucerne’s.”
Darro reached for the fork and plate. “Let me taste that.” He cut a bite and put it in his mouth. “He’s right,” he said after quickly chewing and swallowing. “This is almost as good as yers, honey.”
Lucerne clapped her hands. “Wonderful! I wish I knew who made it.”
“I guess we’ll have to make it our business to find out,” Pauley replied, obviously going into detective mode. “Unless ye need some help, Lucerne, the rest of us can spread out and start interviewing.”
They all laughed and Dottie was really glad that no undue attention came her way. It was such a relief that she finally started to relax and enjoy herself.
***
D al was glad Luca was there. He had been contemplating not coming, but finally decided he wouldn’t let Ainsley’s disdain of him keep him from enjoying the party with his friends. So, she wasn’t into him, that was okay. She wouldn’t be the first girl to turn him down for a date. She just happened to be the first one to really matter.
Why he felt so drawn to her, he didn’t know. It had happened the first time he’d seen her riding her horse, Stardust. For lack of a better analogy, she seemed like his fated mate. Just being in close proximity to her gave him goosebumps, and his trousers wanted to tent as if they had a mind of their own.
When he and Luca walked into the huge party area encompassing the living room and dining room, he saw her standing in the entry way beneath some mistletoe. Of course, mistletoe was everywhere and it was hard not to be under or near it anywhere in the room, but he tried to avoid it. Escaping the kitchen had been nice, but now it was time to mingle. He studiously avoided looking at Ainsley
Instead, he looked at the amount of food on the buffet Lucerne had set up in the dining room in front of the windows so people could go down both sides. It was filled with food, but room had been left for the platters of turkey and hot rolls still coming. His stomach growled a complaint. He hadn’t even snacked before coming here and lunch would have been two hours ago if he’d eaten. He was ready for food.
“There’s yer girl,” Luca teased, nodding toward Ainsley who had gone to the living room and took a recliner in front of the rugby game on the big screen television on the wall. Card tables had been set up around the area for people to eat, or they could eat in a comfortable chair, it was all very informal.
“She’s not my girl,” Dal replied stiffly.
Luca stared. “I thought ye said...”
Dal cut him off with a frown. “I know what I said, but she’s nae interested in me and I’ll not push it. She made that very clear.” He suddenly felt a tingling between his shoulder blades.
“Well, she’s looking yer way, even if ye don’t want her anymore. Can I take a run at her?”
Jealousy flared hot and heavy and Dal glared at his friend.
Luca held up his hands and backed off. “I can see yer actions don’t match yer words. Just kidding,” he said with a chuckle. “She’s all yers if ye can catch her.”
“She’ll be heading back to Boston after New Years and I won’t be back to Neamh before she leaves, so there’s no catching her at this point,” Dal snapped.
“Are ye going to give her the snow globe ye ordered to take with her?”
“Nay, I’ll just leave it on my shelf in the barn. She wouldn’t want a gift from me, that’s fer sure.”
“She keeps glancing over here,” Luca pointed out. “Are ye sure she’s not interested?”
Dal glanced over his shoulder and Ainsley whipped her head back to the game. That was weird, she had been looking his way. Now that she wasn’t, the tingling between his shoulder blades had subsided. He shrugged. “Mayhap she was watching ye, Luca. If ye really want to try yer luck, go ahead. I’m done with her.” His tadger protested the thought but Dal firmly placed Ainsley in the ‘ one that got away’ department. At least he was trying to. His foolish heart kept wondering if he might still have a chance? What if he were to kiss her under the mistletoe? Would she like it? Would she slap him? Nah...she didn’t want his kiss. He glanced her way only to catch her gaze swiftly moving away from him again. Or would she?
Everyone started clapping and the boys looked around to see Darro, Angus, and Jamie coming out with the platters of turkey and hot rolls, their wives following. They all cheered and whistled as the food was placed on the table. Then Darro held up his hands.
Dal whistled along with the cheers. Thank the lord, his stomach was eating itself inside and out.