by Paige Tyler
Cord finally relented, though he did warn her to be careful, and to make sure that she was back before dark. She assured him that she would be, and they spent the rest of the evening together in the living room. Cord talked mostly of his ranch, telling her stories of cattle drives and round-ups. He was originally from St. Louis, he said, and had come out west several years ago, where he could have both space and independence. He had liked Copper Creek from
the moment he’d seen it, and knew it was where he wanted to settle down
and start a family.
Listening to him, Kayla once again felt a stab of guilt for misleading him like she was. But that didn’t stop her from going into town the next day to play poker at the saloon. She did stop at the general store first, however, to buy some material for the curtains she’d told Cord that she would make, and to do a little work on the wedding dress.
“So, how are things going with Cord?” the blond girl asked as she cut the
material to size for Kayla. They were at the table in the back of the general store.
“Very well, actual y,” Kayla answered honestly.
Rachel smiled. “I can’t imagine being a male-order bride myself, but if I were, I’d marry Cord.” She glanced over to where her husband was standing behind the counter, and then added with a wink. “Don’t tell Matthew I said that,
though.”
Kayla laughed. “Have you known Cord long?”
The other girl nodded. “About five years, ever since he came to Copper
Creek.”
Kayla began folding the material that Rachel had cut for her. “It’s obvious that he’s both attractive and a great guy, so why would he even need a mail-order bride? I would think that women would be falling all over themselves to marry him.”
“Because there aren’t many unattached women out here,” Rachel said.
“Unless you count the prostitutes, though they’d certainly take him, if he offered.”
Kayla felt an unreasonable stab of jealousy, and wondered if Cord had slept with any of those prostitutes. “I suppose that makes sense,” she said after a moment. “When Cord and I were in town the other day, we ran into a man
named Dalton Jeffries. Cord really seemed to dislike him, but he wouldn’t say why. Do you know him?”
Rachel’s mouth tightened. “Regrettably, yes. He’s my brother.”
Kayla looked at her friend in surprise. “Your brother? But Cord told me that he was dangerous. He warned me to stay away from him.”
The other girl stopped cutting and looked at her. “Cord’s right, Abigail. You should stay away from him.”
Kayla frowned. “What do you mean?”
The blond girl sighed. “Take it from me, Abigail. Dalton isn’t the kind of man you’d want to be around.”
Rachel didn’t say more and Kayla didn’t push. Usually, she did the opposite of whatever she was told, but in this case, she thought, perhaps Cord was right.
If he wanted her to stay away from Dalton Jeffries, then she would.
Rachel turned the conversation back to Kayla’s upcoming wedding, telling her that the lace she had ordered would be there in about a week. “You should
probably be able to have the rest of the dress ready by the time it gets here,”
she told Kayla, and then added excitedly. “I bet you can’t wait to get married!”
Kayla felt herself blush. For some reason she couldn’t explain, the thought of marrying Cord Holderness made her feel uncharacteristically giddy. That
thought brought her to a halt, and she gave herself a mental shake. What was she thinking? She wasn’t in Copper Creek to marry Cord. She wasn’t even his real mail-order bride. She had to get herself some money, and get out of
Copper Creek quick, she realized, or the next thing she knew, she’d be
marrying the man!
With that thought firmly in mind, Kayla hurriedly thanked Rachel for the use of her sewing machine, and after promising the girl that she’d be back the next day, she left the general store and headed straight for the saloon. She had brought the money Abigail had given her, which should be more than enough
to get her into a card game.
Since it was afternoon, the saloon wasn’t very crowded. The men at the bar looked her way when she came in, but she barely noticed them. On the
contrary, she was much more interested in the card game going on at one of the tables.
Lifting her chin, she slowly made her way over to the table. At her approach, the three men seated there got to their feet. Dressed in denims and
homespun shirts, they varied in age, but were all older than she.
“Ma’am,” one of the men greeted her. He was tall and wiry, with a droopy
mustache.
She gave them one of her most innocent smiles. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were playing cards,” she said sweetly. “I was wondering, is that
poker you’re playing?”
“Yes, Ma’am, it is.”
She looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Really? I thought I
recognized it. I’ve played it once or twice before just for fun, you see.” She paused. “Do you think I could play? Just a few hands?”
The man with the droopy mustache exchanged glances with the other two.
“Uh...we play for money here, Ma’am.”
“Oh, but I have money,” she said, reaching into her reticule.
He frowned. “It wouldn’t be right to take a lady’s money, Ma’am.”
Kayla looked up at him. “But I do so want to play,” she said, and then laughed lightly. “Besides, who knows? I may take yours.”
That got her a few chuckles. “You just might at that,” the man with the droopy mustache agreed. He pulled out a chair for her. “Have a seat, then, Ma’am.”
With a smile, she took the chair he offered her, smoothing her dress as she did so. Opening her reticule, she took out some money and set it on the table in front of her.
“I’m Jed,” the man with the droopy mustache told her, and then inclined his head at the other two men. “That’s Caleb,” he gestured toward the blond-haired man across from her. “And that’s Lawrence,” he said, indicating the other man, this one red-haired and freckled.
Kayla smiled. “I’m Abigail.”
Jed eyed her curiously. “You’re Cord Holderness’s mail-order bride, ain’t
you?” he asked as he began shuffling the cards.
“Yes,” was all she said.
Jed exchanged looks with the other men, but made no comment as he began
to deal. Though Kayla had a good hand, she deliberately let one of the men win. She did with same with the next hand, though she won the fourth hand
with two pairs, and the one after that with three of a kind. She managed to look surprised each time she won, however, and by the time she left the
saloon ten dollars richer, she was pretty sure that none of the men suspected she’d ever played poker for money before.
With her winnings safely tucked into her reticule, Kayla started for home. Cord was still out on the ranch, so she hurried upstairs to her bedroom to freshen up before dinner.
Splashing some water on her face from the basin on the washstand, she
patted her skin dry with a towel, and then took the pins from her hair. Cord seemed to like it tied back with a ribbon, so she would wear it like that for dinner. Picking up her hairbrush, she walked over to the window and slowly began to run it through her long hair. She was watching the horses graze in one of the paddocks when Cord rode up, and at the sight of him, Kayla
caught herself smiling.
Cord swung down from the saddle and walked over to the trough of water
beside the barn. Unaware that he was being watched, he stripped off his shirt, carelessly tossing the garment onto the adjacent fence. Kayla caught her
breath as she stared at his naked chest.
She’d seen paintings and sculptures of men
in various states of undress
before, but none of those men even compared with Cord. He was gorgeous.
Every muscle, from his shoulders to his taut stomach, was clearly defined in exquisite detail, and she suddenly longed to run her hands over their
smoothness. She blushed at the direction of her thoughts.
As she watched, he dipped a wooden pail into the trough. Lifting it with both hands, he tipped his head back, and poured the crystal clear water over his face. Kayla watched transfixed as it ran down his chest, making his tanned skin glisten in the afternoon sunlight. Her pulse quickened and she tightened her hand on the handle of the brush.
Below, Cord set the pail down and picked up his shirt from where he’d tossed it over the fence. Kayla waited until he’d disappeared into the barn before she left the window and walked over to the washstand. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she saw that her cheeks were flushed. Cord would be coming in
for dinner soon, she thought. How was she going to look at him now without blushing?
But before she could come up with an answer for that, the door to her room opened and Cord strode in. Startled, she whirled around. He hadn’t put his shirt back on, but carried the garment in his hand, and, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to stop staring at his bare chest. Up close, he was even more perfect, she thought. The water had dripped down his chest to soak the front of his pants, making them fit tightly to his form underneath. She tried to pull her eyes away from that area, but her gaze kept straying back.
Cord, however, was oblivious to her scrutiny. “One of the hands was in town today, and do you know what he told me?” he demanded.
At his harsh tone, Kayla tore her gaze away from the area below his beltline to look up at Cord, only to find him glowering down at her, and she wondered what had him so angry. But before she could ask, Cord continued.
“He told me that he saw you playing poker at the saloon.” He folded his arms, and she couldn’t help but notice how the muscles in his arms flexed with the movement. “Is that true, Abigail?”
Kayla said nothing for a moment, wondering how she should answer his
question. She could either deny it or own up to it. She realized that denying it would be pointless because he already knew for a fact that she’d been there.
Instead, she chose to throw a tantrum, hoping she could confuse the issue. It had certainly worked many times on her father. She had discovered that
many men didn’t know how to handle an angry woman.
“Yes, it’s true.” She slapped the hairbrush down on the washstand and glared at him angrily. “I stopped by the saloon after I went to the general store, and yes, I played a little poker. It’s not like I committed a crime, you know! Why shouldn’t I be able to play any game I want?”
His eyes narrowed. “Ladies don’t play poker, Abigail, and they most certainly don’t go into saloons.”
She folded her arms. “Why not? There’s nothing wrong with a lady playing a game of cards back in New York.”
He frowned. “New York?”
Kayla said nothing for a moment. She hadn’t even realized that she’d slipped up. She quickly recovered, however. “I was there a few times,” she told him, and then hurried on before he could question her about that, too. “But there’s nothing wrong with it back in Boston, either. Or is it that out here you men just want to keep all of your women locked up in their homes, sewing curtains?”
He seemed to actually be taken aback for a moment, but quickly regained his focus. “Well, this isn’t New York or Boston,” he told her. “Out here, only loose women go into saloons, and I won’t have my wife’s reputation called into
question before we’re even married.” He paused. “Since you’re new to how
things work out here, I’ll let it go this time, but I don’t want you playing poker at the saloon again.”
Good sense told her to give in, but she’d never been the quiet, submissive type. “Just because we’re going to be married, does not mean that you own
me, Cord Holderness!” she snapped.
He scowled at her, and for a moment, she wondered if she’d pushed him too
far. “You’re right; I don’t,” he agreed. “But it is my job to protect you, Abigail, and saloons are dangerous places. People can get shot playing poker out
here.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating. The men I played with were
very nice.”
His brows drew together and he gave her a hard look. “This isn’t something I’m going to give in on, so I’ll make it clear. I don’t want you going to the saloon again, Abigail. Do you understand me?”
Again, Kayla knew that she should acquiesce, but the words just wouldn’t
seem to come. Instead, she lifted her chin and glared up at him defiantly. “If I want to go to the saloon again – or anywhere else, for that matter - I will, and you can’t stop me.”
Dismissing him, she turned her back on him with a swirl of skirts. Determined to ignore him, she picked up her hairbrush, intending to run it through her hair, but Cord yanked it out of her hand. She spun around, ready to snap at him, but before she could do more than open her mouth to protest, he took
hold of her wrist and led her over to the straight-backed chair across the room.
“What...?” she demanded, but she already knew. He was going to spank her
again, she realized, and her pulse quickened at the thought!
Pulling out the chair from where it had been placed under the writing desk, Cord swung around to face her, and she caught her breath at the look in his golden brown eyes.
“I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep you safe, Abigail, and if that means paddling your bottom until you agree to do as you’re told, then so be it,” he said.
Before she could even think of a reply – as if she could with him standing so close to her! – Cord sat down on the chair and dragged her over his knee.
Her long hair tumbled down around her face and she had to brace her hands
on the wood floor to keep her balance. She opened her mouth, intending to
continue the argument when she felt him lift her skirt. Her petticoat followed, exposing her white pantaloons, and she felt herself flush.
“Wait!” she began, only to feel the wooden hairbrush smack sharply against her upturned bottom. It hurt more than his hand had, not terribly, but it still stung, and she let him know it. “Owww!” she yelped, struggling to push herself upright.
Cord put his hand on her back, firmly holding her in place and lifted the
hairbrush again. Oval in shape, it was made of finely polished wood, and from the minute he picked it up, he knew it would be perfect for teaching Abigail a lesson. “Something tells me that a spanking like this is long overdue where you’re concerned, Abigail Murray.” He brought the brush down on her other
cheek, harder this time, and she jumped, crying out. He followed with another, and then another, alternating from one cheek to the other.
Not only did her thin pantaloons offer little protection from the brush, he thought as he continued to spank her, but they also showed off her curvy
bottom quite nicely, and though he longed to pull them down and expose her bare ass, he didn’t trust himself to do so. Just the thought of her half-naked got him hard. It didn’t help that she was wiggling against his arousal, either, he thought as he smacked her bottom again. He could feel his hardness
pressing against her, and he had to stifle a groan.
Over his knee, Kayla squirmed and kicked her feet, trying to escape the sting of the hairbrush, but to no avail. “Cord...ouch!...please...”
Forcing himself to concentrate on the reason she was over his knee in the
first place, he spanked her again, this time on the tender area just below her right cheek. “I want to be sure that you remember this the next time you think about going into the saloon.”
The brush came down again – sam
e spot, but below the other cheek – and
she yelped. “I won’t, Cord. I promise!”
“You won’t what, Abigail?” he asked, smacking her bottom a little harder with the brush.
She gritted her teeth. “I won’t...ow!...go into the saloon again.”
“Good,” came his reply. “Then just a few more to serve as a reminder.”
Cord’s “few more” turned out to be twenty-five more – she knew because she counted – and when he was done, her bottom felt as if she’d just sat on a
stove! Good gracious, but the man knew how to spank! The only thing that
was more shocking to her was the thought that she wouldn’t mind a few more of those spanks. But no more were forthcoming, and as she lay over his lap, wondering where that thought had come from, she couldn’t help but notice
that a sizeable bulge was pressing into her hip where she’d been squirming against Cord’s groin.
That caused a myriad of thoughts to run through her head. She was so