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Authors: Amelia Smarts

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BOOK: Fetching Charlotte Rose
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Charlotte considered his words about the cottage. She found the man repugnant, but she couldn’t think of any reason for why he might lie about the available room. Perhaps he was making an effort to be neighborly. She resolved to stay three nights in the schoolhouse, then use the money she received on Monday to rent a room at the cottage, if a room was truly available.

She also decided to tell Max about her eviction, but not until the following day. She needed to work out how to tell him. She felt embarrassed and ashamed, and she knew Max would view her as even more foolish than he already thought her to be.

Evening fell. She removed her shoes and stockings and arranged her carpetbag on the floor to use as a pillow. She kept her dress on and draped the clothes she wasn’t wearing over her body in the absence of blankets. It was a warm evening, which was lucky, because she wouldn’t have wanted to light the fire in the wood-burning stove and call attention to the fact that someone was inside during odd hours.

Alone on the hard floor, Charlotte felt depressed and near tears. She wallowed in her misery and reconsidered the wisdom in her decision to live on her own in a strange place. She hadn’t even been in town for two months and she’d already made a large, irreversible error. Her eviction would undoubtedly become known to the parents of the children, and they would think less of her. Perhaps even the children would cease to respect her.

As she drifted into what promised to be a fitful sleep, she heard a rattling noise at the door. She started fully awake and bolted to a seated position. The schoolhouse door had a lock, but it was a flimsy one, and there was no deadbolt. Her heartbeat quickened as she listened to what sounded like metal scraping metal. Someone was attempting to pick the lock.

“Who’s there?” she shouted, her voice shaky but insistent. The scraping noise stopped. “Who’s at the door?” she yelled again, a little louder.

When no one responded and the sound resumed, a wave of terror washed over her. Someone was trying to get inside, even knowing she was there. Her gaze darted around the room as she thought about a reason for why that might be. She realized it was likely
because
she was there. Only one person knew of her whereabouts, and it was the one person she knew to be dangerous. The awful thought of Simon visiting her alone in the dark unbidden spurred her into action.

She scrambled to her feet and stumbled to the window, where she struggled to open it. When it stuck even against the entire weight of her body, she let out a panicked whimper and redoubled her efforts. She stepped a few paces away and ran at it, throwing her shoulder into the heavy glass when she reached it. It budged, but only a crack. When she tried to push it again, it didn’t move. She stopped and stared at the window’s small opening, her mind racing to find a solution. A thought came to her. She ran to the stove and grabbed the poker. She shoved the sharp end of it into the small crack and used it to pry open more space. It worked. After several hard tugs, the crack became wider. With both hands she pushed out, eventually opening the window enough to slip through it. She fled the moment her bare feet touched the ground.

Chapter Eight: Stubborn Pride

 

 

Max didn’t speak for some time after hearing the story. He stared at her, and Charlotte watched myriad emotions cross his face—anger, relief, and consternation among them.

When he finally spoke, it was in a low voice that held a slight tremor. “I’m going to kill that man. He is evil, through and through. If nothing else, he needs to be arrested and locked up.”

Charlotte sighed. “The problem is, I don’t know for sure it was Simon. I never saw him, so I don’t think the marshal will arrest him.”

Max ran a hand along the stubble on his jaw. “No, I reckon not.”

“I’m sorry, Max. Are you terribly angry with me?”

“Right now I feel more relief than anger, Charlotte. That story could have ended much worse. I’m glad you had the wits to escape. That was smart thinking, using a poker to pry open the window.” He stood and walked to the counter to pour more coffee into his mug, then took a seat back at the table. “I also feel disheartened that the two people I care about most keep secrets from me. You should have told me no funds were available from Tucson instead of lying to me about it. Then you had another chance to tell me before things went south. I could have helped you keep your room at the boardinghouse. Am I that unapproachable?”

Charlotte shook her head mournfully. “It’s not like that, Max. You’re so, I don’t know, noble and sacrificing. It’s the same reason Tim didn’t tell you immediately of his troubles. He didn’t want you to suffer on his behalf, and I wanted you to be paid for your hard work. I knew you would refuse if I told you the circumstances.”

Her response caused Max’s eyes to flash with sudden fury. “Your stubborn pride didn’t have anything to do with it, then. Is that what you’re saying, Charlotte? Because it seems to me that you’d rather be homeless than admit a mistake to me. And it seems that Tim was so hell-bent on proving he’s a man that he didn’t wish to ask for my assistance when he needed it most.”

Charlotte wrung her hands and stared at them. “That’s part of it. I will admit that pride did have something to do with my lack of forthrightness. I didn’t want to prove you right.”

“What in the Sam Hill do you mean, prove me right?”

Charlotte felt tears coming to her eyes. She hated being scolded, and she hated having to admit that his opinion of her mattered, perhaps more than it should. “I know you think me foolish. I allowed myself to get ill with heatstroke. I almost burned my hand on a hot iron. I asked for your labor before verifying I had the money to pay for it. I couldn’t even do my figuring right or count out the days of the month correctly.”

Charlotte felt her lower lip tremble, and she struggled to say the rest without crying. “It seems I’ve made nothing but mistakes since I got here. You think I’m a silly girl who needs to be told what to do because I’m weak and foolish. I don’t want you to see me that way. I want you to respect me like I respect you.”

Max stared at her in disbelief. When he responded, his voice was firm. “I don’t think you’re foolish or weak, Charlotte, and I respect you a great deal. I think you’re young and have some learning to do, but I also think you’re gritty and will do just fine. I want to help you along the path I know you’ll follow anyway, but you allowed me to become a stumbling block. That gets my dander up. I would have gladly done that work for nothing but a smile from you.”

Charlotte stared at him with similar disbelief. “But you said I was a foolish woman the day you met me.”

Max rubbed his forehead. “You were acting foolishly, and I was riled up because your illness scared me. That doesn’t mean I think you’re a foolish person overall.”

“I, I’m sorry, Max,” she stammered. “Thank you for saying you believe in me. It means a lot, hearing you say that.”

Max sighed and leaned back in his chair. “And I certainly don’t think you’re weak. I can’t believe you don’t know how brave I think you are. Why, even after passing out from heatstroke, you dusted yourself off in two shakes and proceeded to tell me off again like nothing had happened. If that ain’t a woman with more than one round of lead in her gun, I don’t know what is.”

Charlotte gave him a small smile, and he smiled back at her before becoming serious again. “I want you to promise me something, Charlotte.”

“Yes, Max?”

“Promise me that you’ll admit future mistakes to me. In return, I promise to treat you kindly when you do. I want only to support you, and I don’t want your stubborn pride in the way of me being able to do so.”

Charlotte swallowed and nodded. “I promise. Thank you.”

“Do you recall what you said when I spanked you? I sure do. You said you felt vulnerable but not scared. That’s a good thing. That’s how a woman should feel with her man. I want you to feel that way without a spanking. I want you to come to me with your foolish mistakes, knowing that even if I discipline you, it will be with love, without mockery, and with the intention of making things better.”

She nodded her agreement. “I want that too.”

“How did it make you feel, keeping those big secrets from me?”

A tear slid down her face. “I felt lonely and scared.”

“Right. If you’d told me, you wouldn’t have felt either. You would’ve had my full support and protection. Instead, your stubborn pride caused you to lie and carry the burden yourself. Worse, it allowed you to compromise your safety. What do you think I should do about that, as the man responsible for your safety?”

Charlotte looked down and stirred the eggs on her plate, her cheeks growing warm. She understood that he expected her to say he should punish her, and she felt embarrassed. She thought she would be spanked, but she didn’t think she’d have to be amenable to it. This was part of it, she realized. Max was forcing her to let go of some of her pride even before punishment.

“I suppose you should punish me,” she said with a giant sigh.

“I think I should too.” Max stood. He cupped Charlotte’s chin with his hand and tilted it up. He had a determined, set look on his face that was very stern. She recognized that expression. It was the same look he wore when he ordered her over his lap the last time. It made her feel calm, in a way. His resolve allowed her to obey without feeling the need to argue, since she knew it would be useless to do so anyway.

“This will be a real punishment, Charlotte, not a few smacks. I told you I wouldn’t be lenient if I had to spank you again for safety reasons, and I don’t intend to be. Finish your breakfast, then join me on the sofa.”

“Yes, sir,” she said as she felt a nervous flop in her tummy.

She bit into her toast as he strode to the living room. She didn’t feel the least bit hungry anymore, but she ate anyway. She knew she would do well to finish a meal, and she also wanted to delay the punishment. When the food was gone from her plate, she slowly washed the dish in the basin until she heard Max’s voice call out to her.

“That can wait. Come here, Charlotte.”

She sighed and walked to where Max sat in the middle of the sofa. When she reached him, he said simply, “Skirts up and over my lap.”

Charlotte did as instructed. Her face flamed as she positioned herself over his legs. Regardless of whether she felt she deserved it, it was terribly embarrassing. Max hugged her body to his and rubbed her bottom a couple times, like he was getting a feel for his target. The thinness of the drawers felt obvious then, since they did little to diminish the way his touch felt on her body.

Without further delay, Max inflicted two hard swats, one on each cheek, and she yelped. The following swats were moderate and without pause, much different from how her original spanking had felt. At first she thought it wouldn’t be too bad, since his hand wasn’t striking as hard as it had the first time. However, Charlotte felt the sting growing after a minute, and she whimpered.

“How long are you going to spank me, Max?” she asked, feeling more worried with every swat that followed the previous without slowing.

“Until I believe you’ve learned your lesson, young lady.” His swats fell harder and more briskly after her question, making it apparent he didn’t appreciate her asking. Charlotte squirmed.

“What lesson are you learning right now?” he asked.

Charlotte winced, and her mind raced to find the right answer in the midst of her discomfort. “That I’m not to keep secrets from you.”

“That’s right, at least not any that could affect your safety. What else?” Max lowered his punishing hand and connected it with her thighs, which were also only thinly covered by her drawers.

She yelped at a particularly hard smack and suddenly felt angry. She hadn’t known it would hurt so much, or she never would have said she deserved it. “Stop, Max! I insist that you stop this right now.”

Max stopped abruptly, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her relief was quickly replaced by dismay when she felt the ribbon of her drawers loosen and a breeze of cool air brush her bare bottom and thighs as he slid the material to her ankles. She froze as he bared her. The confusion over how she felt rendered her speechless. She had never been exposed in such a way to a man, and she felt both aroused and embarrassed. Tears welled up in her eyes as his hand cracked down with renewed vigor. A short time later, she shrieked at the intensity of the heat his hand was igniting on her bared skin and frantically reached back to protect her tender seat, while doing everything in her power to remain still over his thighs. She didn’t want to move in such a way that would reveal to his eyes the aroused area between her legs.

Max caught her wrist and anchored it against her waist without slowing the swats. “You don’t get to decide when your spanking ends, Charlotte, and you also don’t get to speak to me in angry, demanding tones during discipline. Now is the time to be contrite and accepting of your well-deserved punishment. Any other attitude will make it worse for you.”

She felt angrier with every swat. “I can’t believe you would force me to endure a spanking without my drawers. It’s humiliating, and it hurts terribly.” She said the last words in a self-pitying whimper.

Max paused again and ran his hand over her bottom to her thigh, where it settled lightly. How his hand felt so gentle one moment and so hard the next kept Charlotte bewildered and on high alert. She was aware of his every touch and movement, and every time he spoke, the deep timbre of his voice made her heart pound.

“You know what would’ve been worse than this spanking, Charlotte? If Simon had caught you. You’ve behaved badly and put yourself in danger. You’ve been stubborn, prideful, and disobedient. I’m punishing you sternly to teach you a lesson in the hopes that I won’t have to repeat it. So, I’ll ask you again. What else are you learning from this?”

Her nether region constricted and she clamped her thighs together. It was all so overwhelming to her—the pain, the arousal, the embarrassment. She growled in frustration. “I’m learning that you’re a brute, Maxwell Harrison!”

BOOK: Fetching Charlotte Rose
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