Missy Meets the Marshal (Lone Star Love Book 2) (3 page)

"How did you sleep, Missy?"

"I slept better than I have in ages. Thank you, Marshal. Lou woke up twice for feeding, but other than that I slept straight through."

"That means she'd have gone hungry if left in the livery all night. Shame on you, woman. She's needs tending to. She's not meant to be alone."

To hear him scold her for that felt awful. He thought she was a bad mother. Tears stung her eyes at being judged so negatively by this man she found herself inexplicably wanting to please. He didn't understand that she needed to keep her baby's existence a secret. She wanted to explain to him why and prove that she loved her baby, but she couldn't risk giving him that much information.

"Get in the tub," he instructed, interrupting her sad rumination.

She blinked. The marshal stood in place, watching her. He didn't make a move to leave or even to turn his back to give her privacy.

"Are you expecting to stay and watch me?" she stammered, excited for that to happen, but also outraged that he presumed it would.

A glint appeared in his eye. "Only if you want me to, Missy. I'll go outside if you say the words."

Beth's mouth fell open. The marshal rounded the tub to join her where she stood. He cupped her chin gently and tilted her face up. He examined her eyes. "I could be wrong, but I think you want me to stay. Don't you, Missy?"

She did. She wanted the stern man to find her body beautiful and to be kind to her. It helped that he was handsome, with thick brown hair and neatly trimmed beard and mustache. He wore a tan shirt that buttoned down the front and darker tan trousers over a tall, taut body. Though his clothes were loose-fitted for comfort, she could see his arm muscles ripple beneath the long sleeves in some of his movements.

"I suppose I don't mind," she said, blushing.

Releasing her chin, he said, "Go on then. Shuck off those rags. Allow me to look at you."

His voice still sounded stern, but it didn't sound unkind. There was a gentleness in his tone, and Beth found it compelling to be instructed by him. She did as she was told. She lifted the dress over her head, leaving her completely naked in front of him. She noticed his brief look of surprise, which turned somber.

"You don't have underclothes?"

"No." She felt foolish then. That wasn't the reaction to her naked body she'd been hoping for. "I used them to make clothes for Lou." She looked down at her bare feet. An uncomfortable silence followed, during which Beth fidgeted and crossed her hands in front of her, feeling exposed.

He cleared his throat. "Since you don't have any more clothes to take off, I can't see any reason for you not being in the tub by now."

In a trancelike state, she absorbed the heat radiating from his body and breathed in his scent. Leather, gunpowder, and soap. That's what the marshal smelled like. She wanted to bury her face in his chest again like she had the night before. She wanted to feel his arms around her and never to leave the comfort she imagined she'd find there. How she longed for a single kind word from him, just one word showing he was pleased with her in some way. Her reverie was interrupted when she felt her feet leave the floor.

He swept her into his arms and lowered her into the tub. How gently he did so contrasted with his scolding words. "If it were up to you, Missy, the bath would be cold by the time you decided to do as you're told."

Beth closed her eyes and relaxed in the hot water. She felt bliss and comfort. The warmth soothed her and brought her racing mind to a crawl.

The marshal positioned an armless wooden chair next to the bathtub and took a seat. "Would you like me to wash you, Missy?" He asked the question in a gentler tone.

Beth opened her eyes. She felt herself nodding.

He smiled at her for the first time. "Criminy, honey. If you aren't the nicest surprise to ever show up at the jail."

Beth felt her spirit soar upon hearing those words, especially his word of endearment. She knew honey was a word used loosely, but it was also a word used fondly. He rolled up his sleeves, lathered soap in a soft cloth, and washed her back in circular motions.

"I know I shouldn't take such liberties, you being married and all, but I get the feeling your husband is a bit of a bastard and that's why you're not with him. Am I right?"

"I'm not married, Marshal."

His hand settled on her back for a moment, changing the sensation she felt from that of being washed to that of being held. "No more lies, Missy."

She quieted, stilled by his touch and his words, which were delivered to her in a low, firm tone she'd never heard directed at her before. In his words was a warning, but it was unmistakably wrapped in tenderness.

Beth marveled at the feeling of him gently scrubbing away the dirt and grime from her body, and she wanted to relax completely, but it concerned her that he seemed able to tell the difference between when she lied and when she told the truth. She needed to be careful around him. Very careful. She shivered, afraid once again. The marshal felt the change in her body. He reached over and touched her cheek with the back of his hand so gently that Beth suddenly felt close to tears. He used a finger to turn her face in his direction and searched her eyes.

"You're afraid of something, Missy. Tell me what it is. It's my job to protect people."

She stared into his kind eyes. She knew he was right. Protecting people was his job, but punishing people was also his job, and that's what she was afraid of. She racked her brain for something to say that made sense but didn't reveal too much. "I fear many things, Marshal. There's much you don't know about me."

He resumed, washing her arm. "Yes, that's true. There's much you don't know about me too. How about we learn a little about each other? I'll start. First, you can stop calling me Marshal. My name is Grover." He offered her a smile.

She relaxed a little. Knowing his name without the lawman title attached made her feel a little more at ease. "Okay, Grover."

"Should I call you Beth? I will if you insist, but I happen to like Missy a whole lot on you. Fits you somehow." He winked at her, which compelled her to match his smile with one of her own.

"I don't mind you calling me Missy, if it pleases you, Grover."

"Good. One thing is settled at least." He moved the cloth to her breast. He spoke in a casual manner while cleaning each of her breasts with a gentleness she'd never felt from a man. "I'm thirty-three years old and I've never been married. Not that I haven't wanted to get hitched, but women are in short supply around here, and I admit I've been too yellow to get a mail-order bride from the east."

It surprised her to learn he'd never married. She figured him for a widower. "Surely you could have married someone around here, Grover. You have a pleasing look about you and no doubt earn a right smart living as town marshal."

He smiled again. "Why thank you, Missy, but that's another thing about me. I haven't always made a good living. My parents are gone like yours. They died one right after the other when I was sixteen. After that I was a dirt-poor cowboy with nothing but a puddin'-footed horse and a hankering to find my next meal. Eventually I got lucky enough to hang my hat at the Easy Go Ranch in west Texas for some time. Then the harsh winter of '86 and the death of so many cattle saw most of us ranch hands out of a job, leaving me even dirt poorer and my saddle-slickin' days in the dust."

Grover moved the cloth to between her legs and rubbed while looking into her eyes. Missy stared back at him, willing him to continue with both his strokes and his story.

"It was four years 'til I had steady income after that. I mostly wandered, taking odd work here and there. That's when I got into bounty hunting. It's hard to attract a woman, let alone go about courting her, with that kind of dangerous, wandering life."

He abandoned the cloth and touched between her legs with his fingers. Giving her a roguish smile, he continued speaking while stroking her inner thighs then exploring every inch of her folds. "Lucky for me, I was better than most at bounty hunting. I became known as a quick gun, which put me in the county sheriff's sights for this marshal post. He also liked my reputation for having a level head. I've shot more than a few men dead, but I've not fired a single dirty bullet. I've never shot an innocent man or even a guilty one who didn't first try to shoot me or someone under my protection."

"I'm sure you're very honorable," she managed to say. She closed her eyes and worked to keep moans from escaping her lips as he tended to the intimate place between her legs.

He chuckled, a rich, velvety sound, and flicked her bud with his thumb. "You're sure of that, are you, Missy? Some might say what I'm doing at the moment isn't very honorable."

"Yes," she insisted. "I'm sure." She could tell he was a good man.

Suddenly she opened her eyes. She grabbed the sides of the tub with both hands and bolted to an upright position. "Wait a minute. Grover? Grover
Huntley
?"

One of his eyebrows lifted. He removed his hand from between her legs. "You've heard of me, Missy?"

Of course she'd heard of him. Grover Huntley, one of the fastest guns in Texas, rivaled only by a few, including her husband who wished him dead. Grover Huntley, the gunslinger who shot her husband's brother in a fight that left only one of them standing.

She felt certain Grover could hear her heart beating. She glanced around the room. "I reckon I read about you in the paper, that's all," she said, trying to sound unruffled, but her words came out in a stutter and her knuckles turned white from the grip she had on the sides of the tub.

He stood, towering above her. "Reckon that, do you?" He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back. "You know what I reckon, Missy?" He bent and crushed his lips against hers. His tongue tore into her mouth and plundered it. When Beth glided her tongue to meet his, he gave it one rough caress before pulling away. In a flash, the kiss was over. It left her heart beating faster than before and her stomach fluttering wildly. He bore his eyes into hers. "I reckon that was another lie." He released her hair from his hand. "Finish your bath, Missy. Then I'll give you a proper seeing-to." He ambled to the other side of the room, bringing the chair with him. He sat at a spot next to the kitchen table and waited.

Chapter 3 - Spanked for Your Blarney and Lies

Beth dried herself with a soft towel. She felt Grover's gaze raking her body from the other side of the room. She felt warm all over, yet she shivered with anticipation and desire. She felt sure that he would have his way with her, and she hoped that he would. She wanted to feel his touch again. She already missed it. Finished drying, she wrapped the towel around her and met his eyes.

"Come here, Missy."

She padded to him, her bare feet leaving small, damp tracks across the hardwood floor. He opened his legs slightly and guided her to stand between his knees. "I think you're beautiful, you know." He ran the back of his hand down the side of her face. "I should've said that before, but I'm not used to having a woman here with me. I find myself a bit balled up by it, truth be told."

He settled his hands on her hips. "Now, darlin', I told you about me. I expect the same in return. I'm fond of you already, if you can't tell, and I want to help you. But I can't do that if you're not honest with me."

Beth stared at him, awed over him saying she was beautiful and calling her darling and confessing he was fond of her. She wondered if maybe he liked her in particular, more than he liked other women. She mentally shook herself. She couldn't allow herself such vain luxuries. She considered his words about being honest with him and determined she couldn't do that either. She eyed the front door, feeling about as far away from it as the ocean.

"No, darlin'. Look at me, nowhere else." His tone remained gentle, but some of the sternness returned. She felt her butterflies return with it. She wanted to obey him. She wanted to be honest with him, but she had no way to know how he would react to hearing her story. She had to think of Lou and how best to protect her. Lou wouldn't fare well if her mother was ditched and left to rot in prison.

Beth looked him in the eyes and said with as much grit as she could muster, "I have been honest with you, Grover."

"No, Missy. You haven't." His face darkened into a frown, and his next words were spoken with all the sternness she'd heard in his tone before. "Tell me the truth about you. This is your last chance before I teach you a lesson about lying."

She shifted her weight to one foot and looked down. "I've told you most everything important already. My name is Beth Jones. I'm a poor woman with no kin except for my daughter. My husband was killed last year, and ever since I've been struggling to make it on my own."

About half of that was true, and she hoped it would satisfy the marshal. It didn't. Before Beth knew what was happening, she found herself stripped of the towel and lying naked across his hard thighs, positioned for a spanking. She gasped when she understood his intent.

With one hand he held her body against his. His other hand smacked her bare bottom, her skin still soft and damp from the bath. The swat sent a resounding crack into the air, and the force of it took her breath away. She wasn't able to recover her breath before he landed another. And another. He spanked her ten times before he stopped. She panted when she was finally able to breathe.

"What's your name again, Missy? The truth this time."

Beth tried unsuccessfully for a few moments to find her voice. When she did, she responded breathily. "Matthews. Elizabeth Matthews. That's my married name."

"Okay, then. Maybe we're getting somewhere." He landed ten more swats with just as much vigor.

Beth cried out and tried to roll to one side off his lap, only to feel his grip around her waist tighten. "P-please stop. It hurts." She heard the pitiful pout in her voice.

Her distress didn't move him. "You're getting spanked for your blarney and lies, Missy. I want it to sting. You had several chances to avoid being punished, but you ignored every last one, didn't you?"