The Rancher's Bride (6 page)

Frank and Sarah entered the kitchen through the back door, Sarah giggling and smiling at something Frank Carter had just said to her. Frank wasn’t laughing or smiling though.

“Afternoon, Miss Sarah.” Marie put on her friendliest face and smiled at the woman that Frank had recently taken to courting. “Mr. Carter tells me you’ll be stayin’ for supper?”

Sarah barely glanced in Marie’s direction before answering. “Yes, yes that’s right.” Sarah’s voice was a bit cool.

Marie paid it no heed, even though she knew Sarah never used that tone with Frank. Sarah acted so sweet and pleasant around him. Was it just an act?

Sarah turned to Frank. “Would you give me a tour of the house?” She smiled at him, all sweetness and light again.

Marie turned back to her cooking. She heard Frank answer in the affirmative and did her best to mind her business as they walked toward the sitting room, speaking in low voices to each other. Marie couldn’t help but remember how she and Frank Carter had spoken softly to each other in Emme’s room the night they had kissed. The memory was almost painful now, in the face of Frank speaking in the same low tones to Sarah. Marie loved the sound of his voice, but she felt an unfamiliar feeling rather suddenly—she felt jealous. Would Frank kiss Sarah?

Of course he would, she admonished herself. It angered her, though. Sarah seemed silly and shallow. She wasn’t good enough for him, Marie was sure of it. And how would she treat Emme? A million thoughts ran through Marie’s head, most of them having to do with the fact that Sarah did not measure up.

But she was awful pretty. She wore a different dress every time Marie had seen her, and she dressed her hair in the latest style, at least that’s what she had told Marie one day when Marie had complimented her on it. She had jewelry and pretty shoes too. Her family had probably been untouched by the Depression. How was that possible?

Anyway, she could certainly see why Mr. Carter had taken to courting her. She was pretty and educated and well-mannered. She had a nice figure too. And she had blonde hair. Marie was fairly certain that Frank Carter’s deceased wife had had blonde hair, since Emme was fair and blonde-headed and Frank was not. He must favor blonde hair. Marie had brown hair. There wasn’t nothing she could do about that. A person liked what they liked and that was all there was to it.

The happy pair reentered the kitchen after their tour and Frank inquired as to when they could expect supper to be served.

“Everything will be ready in about one hour, sir.” Marie did her best to smile at them both.

* * *

After supper, Marie was at the sink washing the dishes while Frank and Sarah lingered over their coffee at the table. The boys had gone up to their room to play and Emme was already down for the night. She had missed her nap that day due to Sarah’s visit and was a bit cranky earlier than normal. Marie hoped she slept through the night. Sometimes something like that could throw a baby off and then they didn’t sleep well. They heard a crash from upstairs.

Marie immediately turned to head for the stairs when Frank stopped her.

“I’ll go,” he said, and smiled at her. “You’ve got all those dishes.” He headed from the kitchen and the pleasant expression almost immediately left Sarah’s face. It was just as Marie suspected; she was a phony, putting on an act for Frank. Marie sincerely hoped that he could see through her behavior.

She turned back to the sink, anxious to be done with the kitchen chores so she could leave the room.

“So, how long have you been working here—Marie? It’s Marie, right?” Sarah knew good and well what her name was. Marie knew that Sarah was just trying to make her feel she was only the help and her name just wasn’t important enough to remember.

“It’s been about one month now,” Marie answered politely. She was washing as fast as she could. Marie was afraid that she would say something she’d regret if she spent too much longer in Sarah’s presence.

“And how old are you?”

Marie turned to look and Sarah had a big smile on her face—a big ol’ phony smile. She was up to no good. Marie could feel it and was liking her less and less by the minute.

“I’m twenty-two.”

Marie studied the dishwater. She considered just leaving the rest of the dirty dishes soaking until later, when Mr. Carter had taken Sarah home. Marie did not want to be in the kitchen alone with her.

“I’m twenty-two also.” Sarah sounded too happy about that fact. “We’re the same age. We probably have a lot in common.”

At Sarah’s tone, Marie felt her stomach drop.

“Where did you go to school? Where do you get your hair done?”

Marie didn’t like where this was going.

“Have you considered getting it done in the latest style? Mine is. What do you think?” Sarah moved her head from side to side for Marie to get the full effect. “Have you seen some of the latest fashions at the dressmakers in town? They’re to die for!”

Marie knew what Sarah was doing and it was downright nasty. They were of a different class. Marie was of the working class. In fact, Marie was glad to be able to say that she was of the working class. She was grateful to have the job she had here.

But Sarah didn’t have to work and she was rubbing it in Marie’s face. Sarah could have her hair done and buy new dresses and spend the day reading the latest periodicals. She wasn’t nice, of that Marie was certain. And there was something else Marie was really sure about.

Sarah was definitely not good enough for Frank Carter.

Marie looked over her shoulder to see the smug smile on Sarah’s face and knew exactly what she wanted to do next.

She picked up a large pot from the supper dishes that she hadn’t washed yet, scooped up a good amount of dirty dishwater, then she quickly turned from the sink, took two steps toward the table and dumped the entire contents over Sarah’s head.

Frank was just reentering the kitchen as Sarah shrieked and Marie couldn’t keep the smile from her face. One look at Frank’s face, though, and her smile disappeared.

“What in tarnation is goin’ on here?” Frank boomed, looking from Marie to Sarah, then back to Marie. Frank focused on Marie. “Well?” Now Marie was sorry—Frank looked madder’n she had ever seen him. “I’m waiting, Marie.”

“I…I…” Marie had lost her voice in the face of Frank’s anger. Sarah found hers okay though.

“She…she…she dumped that dirty dishwater all over me! She’s probably ruined my dress. I want you to take the cost out of her pay, Frank!” Sarah was ranting. It was shrill and unbecoming; she had forgotten to be pleasing. “Are you listening to me, Frank? Frank!”

Frank’s eyes had never left Marie’s and she just couldn’t bear it. He was looking at her with great disappointment. Marie kept looking down then back up only to find him still looking at her with that same expression on his face. And completely ignoring Sarah.

Finally, Frank grabbed a clean dishtowel from the counter and turned to Sarah. He helped to dry her off a bit and then led her toward the parlor. She was still complaining to him, but he wasn’t answering her at all. He finished helping her dry off and then fetched her coat, helping her into it and then putting his on also.

Marie watched as he picked up the keys to his truck and opened the front door.

“We’re gonna have a long talk when I get back,” Frank shot over his shoulder as he dropped his hat on his head and ushered an angry Sarah out the front door.

Marie should have felt a pit of fear in her stomach from those words—no doubt he meant to spank her when he returned from bringing Sarah home—but all she could feel was anger. Anger at Sarah and how Sarah treated her. Anger at Frank for allowing it. Anger at Frank for choosing Sarah over her. It made her feel small.

Marie paced the entire first floor of the house waiting for Frank to return. She stopped only once, just long enough to go upstairs and check on the children. They were all sleeping soundly. She returned to the main floor and continued her pacing. A few minutes later, the front door opened and Frank stepped in, closing the door softly behind him.

He stood silent in front of the closed door for what seemed like forever to Marie, who had stopped her pacing when she heard the door open and stood at the doorway to the parlor watching him. He carefully removed his hat and hung it on one of the pegs by the door. He then looked straight at Marie, but said nothing, just started unbuckling his belt as he walked toward her.

Marie instinctively backed up, looking first from what his hands were busy doing, then to his face, trying to read his expression or see if he was going to say something. “Wh—what are you doing, Mr. Carter?” Marie had a good idea, but foolishly thought that if she played stupid, she might get out of it. She continued to back up as he continued to advance.

Frank had his belt all the way off now and was folding it in half just as Marie hit the wall behind her. In one swift move, Frank reached out and grabbed Marie’s arm, pulling her toward him as he sat down on the couch. She was over his lap the next second, her face against the cushion, and could feel her dress being worked up over her hips.

Marie was still angry, but her fear of that belt he had in his hand took precedence over the anger at the moment. He was fixin’ to spank her with that belt!

“No!” Marie did not want him to use that belt on her. “No, don’t!”

Frank then pulled her drawers down to her knees and, without any preamble, laid that strap of leather across her backside immediately.

Marie cried out. “Oowww…noooo…ooowwwww…nooo, please stop, pleeeease.”

It seemed Frank brought that strap down on her bare behind with no hesitation whatsoever. “I’m just gettin’ started, young lady. You’re gonna get a good lickin’ for your behavior tonight, I can assure you. And you’d best keep your voice down, so’s you don’t wake the children.”

Marie heeded Frank’s warning and buried her face in the couch’s upholstery to muffle her crying a bit. The belt went from one side of her behind to the other and hurt much more than his hand had when he had spanked her the last time she was punished. Marie wasn’t sure how much she could stand.

When it felt like her backside must be completely covered with deep red welts from the belt, Frank shifted her forward a bit and began to lay that belt on the backs of her thighs.

Marie screamed into the cushion after the first lick. She instinctively threw a hand back to stop the pain; even the belt hitting her hand would have been preferable at that point, or so she thought.

Without a word, Frank grabbed her hand and pinned it to her back.

Marie was blubbering into the couch cushion while that strap of leather slapped into her rear end and thighs over and over until it felt like her skin must be in shreds. She couldn’t even form the words to beg Frank to stop, because she couldn’t think past the pain of it. She just cried and screamed into the cushion until it was over.

When Marie heard the belt drop to the floor, she knew he must be done with her poor backside. She just lay in a heap over his lap, crying and gasping, trying to get some control and failing miserably. Waiting for the pain to subside a bit. They both stayed that way for a few minutes.

Then Frank very suddenly lifted Marie off his lap. Her dress dropped back in place, but he hadn’t pulled her undergarments back up. They were still bunched around her knees. He held her firmly by her upper arms as she stood between his knees. He looked angry.

“I’m very disappointed in you, young lady,” Frank started. “Your behavior tonight was inexcusable and—”

“You kissed
me
!” Marie’s anger was renewed as Frank began to chastise her. Even though her entire backside was on fire, she was still mad as could be.

“What?”

“You kissed
me
.” Marie repeated adamantly. “You kissed me
first
!” She burst into tears again.

“You watch your tone, young lady, or I’ll put you back over my knee…”

“And she’s not a nice person, and—”

“Stop it right now, Marie.” Frank stood up and gave her a shake.

“And she’s not nice to the boys, and…” Marie hiccoughed, trying to control her tears, “and…”

“That’s enough!”

“…and she’s not good enough for you!” Marie burst out crying again. The next thing she knew she was moving swiftly back toward the wall, the only thing saving her from hitting it with any force was Frank’s arms. They had wrapped around her and he had come toward her with such force that they both went into the wall.

His mouth was on hers before they had even stopped moving, his tongue plunging into her unrestrained. Frank’s body pressed her against the wall while his hands moved up and down her body in a manner that felt completely possessive to Marie. As if he were checking over something that he had just purchased to make sure that it was all there.

She let herself touch him back. She put her hands on his shoulders, then ran them up to his head and back down again.

Frank broke the kiss when she did that and stared into her eyes. “It’s you, Marie,” he said. “I want you.” Frank ran his hand through her hair, then wrapped it up at the back of her head. “I want you.” He took her mouth again and they stayed that way for a while, with Frank’s body pressing Marie’s against the wall, moving against each other, their arms wrapped around each other.

This time when they stopped kissing they both relaxed a bit. Frank moved them back toward the couch and sat down, bringing Marie down to sit on his lap and wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her again, softly, and then buried his face in her hair.

Marie spoke first. “What about Sarah?”

Frank was stroking her hair and kissing her face and neck and Marie wasn’t sure for a minute if he had even heard her question. “I told her when I brought her home that I thought it would be for the best if we didn’t see any more of each other.”

Marie nodded in response.

“You know, young lady, I’m not such a terrible judge of character that I couldn’t see Sarah for what she was, even though I didn’t know her all that well yet. And I’m not excusing her behavior, but it didn’t surprise me none either. I punished you tonight because I do know you, and I expect you to behave much better than you did.” Frank paused and tapped Marie’s nose.