As though reading his mind, the marshal said, “I’m lenient with children, as I have a whole brood of them at home. I believe children should be given second chances, and third, fourth, and fifth chances too.”
Wade gritted his teeth. He would never admit it to anyone, but the jealously he felt for boys and girls with parents was sometimes so painful he could hardly bear it. The nausea from earlier turned his stomach once again. “Good for you and your kids,” Wade mumbled resentfully.
“Were your parents good to you before you lost them?” the marshal asked.
The frank question took Wade aback, and it immediately made him defensive. “Of course they were,” he lied. “Why would you ask that?”
“I’m trying to get a read on you. You’re very angry, it seems, and I know for a fact that not all parents are kind to their children. You wouldn’t be the first boy I’ve met who was unfortunate in that regard and who acted angry on account of it.”
“You don’t know anything about me or my parents,” Wade spat, and turned his head to study the bare wall. He was alarmed to feel tears prickling his eyes, and he prayed the marshal didn’t notice. Wade never cried, not even when he’d dislocated his shoulder or when his ma had died of typhoid or when he’d been made an example of at the orphanage. Wade couldn’t understand why the marshal’s words had inspired such emotion.
“Right.” The marshal cleared his throat. “You have two choices. You can either stay the night in the cell back there,” he said, jabbing a thumb toward the door behind him, “or you can stay the night at my house. I have an extra cot you can use if you want to stay at my place.”
Wade’s gaze snapped to the marshal’s eyes. “You said you weren’t going to punish me. What do you call throwing me in jail?”
“I call it keeping you safe and out of trouble.” His expression was implacable, and Wade could see that the man’s mind was made up.
He wouldn’t admit it, but a small part of him felt pleased by the marshal’s invitation to his house. The marshal was the first person Wade could remember who wasn’t treating him as an annoyance to be cast aside.
“Guess I’ll go home with you, if those are my only two choices,” Wade mumbled.
“Jolly good,” the marshal said, standing. He walked around the desk and stared down at Wade. His eyes grew hard as he issued a warning. “You behave yourself at my house. No stealing, no brawling, no disrespect. That clear?”
Wade swallowed. “Yeah.”
The marshal held out his hand to shake on it. “That’s ‘yes, Mr. Shaw’ or ‘yes, Clyde’ will be fine too.”
Wade placed his hand in the marshal’s. “Yes, Mr. Shaw.”
For the first time, Clyde smiled, which caused the last of Wade’s fear to fade away. “And what’s your name, son?”
“Wade Hunter.”
“All right then, Wade Hunter. Come along. I’ll introduce you to my family.”
Chapter Two
Wade followed Clyde through the front door of a small house, tightening his grip around the strap of his saddlebag as he did. It was dark and stuffy inside, and it took some time for his eyes to adjust. He heard the children before he saw them.
“Pa, you’re home!” a young female voice exclaimed with glee. Rapid, soft footsteps padded across the floor, and a tiny girl in pigtails came to a stop in front of Clyde.
“Hello, darlin’,” Clyde said, giving one of her braids a tug. “I’ve got someone to introduce you to. Say hello to Wade.”
The little girl focused wide eyes on the stranger. “Hello.”
“This here is Ada,” Clyde told him. “She’s the youngest.”
“Hi,” Wade said to her.
Clyde introduced the rest of his children. Sadie was the oldest, a girl of twelve, and Grace was closest to her in age at ten years old. There were twin boys who were nine—Miles and Luke, who looked nothing alike. And finally, there was Ada, the youngest, who was not yet five.
Wade found the whole exchange dizzying. The house was dark and crowded, and he longed to escape, or at least open the windows. The children were gathered around him tightly and stared at him without censor.
“Wade is going to be staying with us tonight,” Clyde informed his children.
“Why does he have to stay here?” Sadie demanded.
Judging by the look on Clyde’s face, he didn’t appreciate his eldest daughter’s question. “Because he needs a place to stay, and this is better than the jail. I expect you all to make him feel welcome.”
“You can have my peppermint, Wade,” Ada said cheerfully, holding out a half-eaten stick of candy in her grubby palm.
By habit, Wade accepted. He hadn’t had the luxury of rejecting food for some time, even food from a dirty child who had already dampened it with her saliva. “Thanks.” He held the peppermint between his thumb and forefinger, wondering if there was a bucket of water nearby where he could wash it off before eating it.
The tiny child stared up at him expectantly, and something in Wade’s heart constricted. Twice in the span of an hour he’d been shown kindness—first by the marshal and now by the marshal’s daughter—and though he didn’t exactly like what either of them had offered him, he couldn’t deny the good feelings the gestures gave him.
Wade spotted a pitcher over on a table near the fire. “This candy looked delicious. I’m going to rinse it off before eating it,” he told Ada.
She cocked her head. “Why you gonna do that, Wade?”
Wade bit back his thoughts. Because you’re dirty and a strand of your greasy hair is stuck to it. “Um, ‘cause that’s what you’re supposed to do. Haven’t you ever heard that water makes candy taste better?” Wade asked.
It was ridiculous, Wade realized, that he could find something as harmless as a child’s hair and saliva disgusting, when he’d been sleeping for three nights in a livery next to horse manure. But, not too long ago, he’d been accustomed to a much higher standard of living, and he couldn’t successfully block all his thoughts about cleanliness.
Ada stared with curiosity and awe as he walked over to the table. Clyde chuckled behind him, and Wade was relieved that Clyde wasn’t offended by the white lie he’d told his daughter.
Wade rinsed off the peppermint and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm, delicious,” he said to Ada. “Thanks very much.”
“I wanna try!” she exclaimed, digging into the front pocket of her frock. She fished out another peppermint stick along with various other items—a bottle cap, a penny, and what appeared to be a dead insect of some kind. After stuffing the rest of her treasures back in her pocket, she held the sticky candy out to Wade.
He obliged and rinsed it in the same way he had rinsed the last candy. When Ada tasted it, she exclaimed, “You’re right, Wade! It’s much more deliciouser!”
Wade couldn’t help but grin before he glanced at Clyde sheepishly. The marshal’s eyes twinkled with amusement. He seemed to be a completely different person from the strict man in the jailhouse.
The marshal’s daughter Sadie was far from amused. In fact, from the aggression in her tone, it was evident she was downright angry. “Now Ada will insist on always pouring water over her candy before she eats it.”
“Ah well, darlin’,” Clyde said good-naturedly. “There are worse things she could be doing.”
“That’s the trouble,” Sadie snapped. “She won’t be doing it. I will, just like I do everything else. If I let her rinse her own candy, she’ll spill the whole pitcher and break it.” She stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind her.
***
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About Amelia Smarts
Amelia Smarts is a USA Today bestselling author who writes kinky romance novels containing domestic discipline, spanking, and Dominance/submission. Usually her stories involve a cowboy, and they always involve a man’s firm hand connec
ting with a woman’s naughty backside. Amelia holds graduate and undergraduate degrees in creative writing and English. She loves to read, which allows her writing to be influenced by many different genres in addition to romance, including mystery, adventure, history, and suspense.
Amelia’s accolades include:
Golden Flogger Award Finalist for Best BDSM Book (Emma’s Surrender)
Voted #1 Favorite Historical Romance Author in The Bashful Bookwhore’s Poll
Winner: Best Sweet Spanking Romance (Fetching Charlotte Rose) in the Spanking Romance Reviews Reader’s Poll
Runner-up: Best Historical Western Romance (Claimed by the Mountain Man) in the Spanking Romance Reviews Reader’s Poll
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Bringing Trouble Home (Lost and Found in Thorndale Book 1) Page 14