Reclaiming Willa

by Delta James

  “Look, Mac. Come see this. Just drop Roscoe’s rein and tell him to stand.”

  Mac did as instructed—impressed that the horses seemed to mind far better than their owner. Willa was focused intently on the ground when she backed right into Mac. Her shapely rear end was framed by the black chaps as it made contact with his hard cock. Willa turned to grin at him, but the smile quickly faded when she saw the dark storm clouds moving across his face and taking up residence in his eyes.

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed his unrelenting mouth. “Good morning!” she said a little too brightly.

  “Not for some of us. Cowgirl, you and I need to come to an understanding about you leaving our bed. From here on, if you are out of my line of sight when I open my eyes? I’m going to blister your ass. You ride off into a dangerous situation without telling anyone where you’re going? I’m going to blister your ass.”

  “Mac, Eastwick is long gone.”

  “Says who?”

  “The tracks. I don’t think Eastwick is on horseback anymore.”

  “I don’t care. You and I aren’t finished talking about how much trouble you’re in.”

  “But, Mac—”

  “But, Mac, nothing. You promised to behave. This sure as hell doesn’t qualify. You don’t have on your vest, and that crosses the line into you disobeying me. Now, show me what you see.”

  She quickly pointed out tire tracks someone had tried to brush away.

  “And the hoofprints? They aren’t as deep. They aren’t carrying as heavy a load, but my guess is when we find the edge of where they tried to obliterate the tire tracks, we’ll be able to see one set was lighter coming in than going out.”

  “Let’s get on the horses and see if we can find where they gave up.”

  “We need to ride in an ever-expanding circle. Mac, how pissed are you?”

  “I’m pissed on so many levels I can’t even begin to explain them all. I’ll start the explanation before I call for a chopper and have John take you to the safe house.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. If you think you’re going to be sitting comfortably for the next few days, think again. And as you’ve proven unable to behave yourself to stay safe when I close my eyes unless I’ve fucked you into exhaustion, then I’ll send you to the safe house and have John head up a full detail.”

  “Mac—”

  “Willa, let’s find where they quit trying to hide the tracks. Then I’m going to find some nice place I can sit down, strip those chaps and leggings off, put you over my knee, and paddle your cute little butt. If you behave, you can ride Gator to camp. If not, you can return to camp facedown over my saddle in front of me. Get a move on, Willa.”

  They rode the circle as she laid it out while Mac used his sat phone to call for a chopper. He gave them the coordinates between them and the camp then called John to apprise him of the new plan and gave him the coordinates as well. Finally, they located the end of the deception. The tire tracks were lighter coming in than going out.

  “I was right,” she told him. “You can see that, can’t you?”

  “You were right about the tracks, but oh so wrong about disobeying me.”

  Mac spied a rock formation, reached over to take Gator’s reins and then rode to the rocks. He stepped off, checked to be sure there were no snakes or bugs, and helped Willa down. He dropped the reins of both horses and told them to stand. Willa tried to hang back, but Mac fisted her hair at the nape of her neck and strode forward. He sat on the rock, keeping hold of her hair. He used the other hand to quickly strip her leggings and chaps down past her knees before pulling her over his lap. Mac watched as the cool, desert air wafting over her naked derriere raised goose bumps.

  “You’re going to regret this, Willa. I’m going to make sure of it.”

  Without another word, Mac raised his hand and began to spank her. At the first blow, he heard her inhale sharply and could just see her bite her lower lip.

  The second strike of his hand caused her to yelp, which only served to inflame him. He increased both the tempo and the strength of the swats being delivered. She struggled, but his superior strength and the anger that fueled it were more than enough to thwart her efforts.

  Mac rained blow after blow over her rear end, meaning to ensure that when he was done, her backside would be red, swollen, and painful. She thrashed and struggled, but it did nothing to improve her position or dissipate his anger as he continued to spank her hard and thoroughly. When every inch of her luxurious bottom was covered in handprints, he moved down to catch her sit spots and then to the tops of her thighs.

  “Mac, please!” she cried out. “I’m sorry. I learned my lesson. I won’t do it again.”

  “Oh, I’ll make damn sure of that. Keep in mind, Cowgirl, I warned you what I’d do to you if you misbehaved…”

  He swatted her twice more then allowed her to gain her feet.

  “Get dressed. The chopper should be here any time.”

  As he finished speaking, he heard the distinctive sound of helicopter blades as it crested the butte. It landed nearby. John arrived at their destination before they did.

  “Mac. Don’t do this,” she begged.

  “We can follow the tire tracks without you, and this way I won’t have to worry about you.” He turned to John. “Take her to the safe house in Chandler. Put together a full detail—two men on, two men off, and someone to monitor the security cameras. If Eastwick has become more mobile, I want to make sure she’s protected.”

  “I’ll keep her safe, Mac.”

  Mac drew her roughly into his embrace and kissed her thoroughly. “Now, you get on that chopper and go to the safe house. If you behave, we’ll call it done. If not, I swear I’ll make you wish you had.” He helped her in and buckled her seat belt. “John, can you sit with her? She doesn’t like helicopters; tell the pilot to take it easy.”

  “I’ll take care of her, Mac. You catch Eastwick then come take care of your cowgirl.”

  Mac backed off, holding the reins of all three horses, and watched the chopper lift off. Willa raised her hand to wave to him, and he did the same. As it flew out of sight, Gus rode up.

  “Your boys are breaking camp. Where are we headed?”

  “Tire tracks. Willa says Eastwick has ditched the horses, which makes some sense. I sent Willa and John to the safe house. She’s going to learn to mind, Gus.”

  The old man clapped him on the shoulder. “If anyone can manage that, Marshal, it’s you. Come on; let’s get to camp and have something to eat before we head out.”

  ***

  The chopper put more distance between Willa and Mac. Her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand, her ass hurt, and she was angry with Mac for spanking her. On the other, she wasn’t all that sure that, from his point of view, it wasn’t deserved. And if she’d had a third hand, she’d use it to enumerate being concerned that he was out chasing down a fugitive who had already murdered two people.

  John reached over and squeezed her hand. “He’ll be all right. He warned you what he’d do if you didn’t mind him.”

  “That’s not it. I’m not happy about it at the moment, but I’m mostly worried about him. Eastwick is a killer.”

  John smiled. “He’s good at his job, Willa. Fact is, he’s the best at what he does. The SOG’s success rate has skyrocketed with Mac at the helm. There’s been a rumor floating around the agency that they may be moving their base of operations from Louisiana. My guess is that was going to be Mac’s first move toward getting you back.”

  She returned his smile. “He intimated to me that this thing with Eastwick had accelerated plans he had been making.”

  “You are happy about this, right? I mean you and Mac?”

  She nodded. “Not sure I’m happy about the current dynamic in our relationship…”

  “Behave yourself, and it won’t be much of an issue,” he teased.

  “Can’t you protect me at home?”

  “Nope. You’re a material
witness. That means a safe house. Come on, the house in Chandler isn’t bad, and I’ll make sure the teams are made up of folks you’ll like.”

  “And I’m stuck because Mac says so.”

  John chuckled. “I’m afraid so. He’s not taking any chances with your safety, and I don’t blame him one little bit. We’ll take the chopper to Mesa where the detail will meet us with two SUVs to take us to Chandler.”

  She sighed and settled in for the ride. Once they landed, Willa was impressed with the low-key efficiency of the marshals assigned to her detail. Then, at the house in Chandler, one SUV was parked inside the barn, hidden from sight, the other left out where it could be seen.

  “I take it I’m regulated to the safe room in the safe house,” she said morosely to no one in particular. “I’m going to take a shower and a nap.”

  She entered the bedroom and closed the door behind her, collapsing against it. Missing Mac, she looked at the bed where they had found each other again, sending up a silent prayer for his safe return.

  Willa stripped off her clothes and started the shower. Catching sight of her bright-red ass with Mac’s handprints covering it, several along the tops of her thighs, as well, she decided they were going to have to talk about this. But who was she kidding? Mac had no intention of or interest in discussing it. As he’d said, he was taking the lead, and she would answer to him. Much as she hated to admit it, it worked well for John and Mandy, and she had found herself accepting Mac’s leadership. For the most part, it felt natural and right and seemed to increase their libidos to epic levels.

  As she emerged dressed in a T-shirt and drying her hair, there was a soft knock on the door. She answered it to find two of the agents who said they wanted to check to make sure she was all right and to see if she needed anything. She assured him everything was fine and she didn’t need a thing, and she was going to take a nap.

  Willa stretched out, hugged the pillow that still held Mac’s scent, and fell asleep.

  ***

  Mac and his team spent the day following the tire tracks until they ended on a main road. They could tell the vehicle had turned south. Eastwick was definitely on the run and headed for Mexico. John had called to say they were at the safe house, and Willa was being uncharacteristically quiet and cooperative.

  He shook his head. She was going to learn to mind him one way or another. He really hoped she’d behave until this was over. He’d meant what he said. If she did, he’d call them square. If not, he intended to show her the error of her ways.

  His cock stirred at the thought of Willa’s soft and supple ass under his hand when he spanked her, and how aroused she became when he asserted his natural dominance. They weren’t through the worst of it, but he felt they’d make it through together and end up incredibly happy with a great marriage. He made a mental note to have her ring sent from his safe deposit box in Louisiana.

  “Where to now, Boss?” said Baez.

  “Mesa, I guess. I don’t think there’s anything more to be done. Make sure the authorities all up and down the Rio Grande have his picture and know he’s a federal fugitive.”

  They rode to Tortilla Flats, where they helped Gus load the horses and stow the gear.

  “Gus, I’m going to send one of the guys with you to get the horses unloaded and you situated.”

  “Don’t you worry about me, Mac. I’ve been doing this since before you were born.”

  Mac smiled. “I know that, but I also need to be able to tell Willa I made sure you and her horses were taken care of. Someone might come sniffing around looking for her, and I’d just as soon know we have things covered on the home front, too.”

  “I know you don’t need me to tell you your business, but you might want to either catch Eastwick pronto or have someone else take the lead there while you go take care of Willa. You know her, Mac…she won’t be contained by anyone, except maybe you, for long.”

  Mac sighed. “I know you’re right. Trust me, Gus. I’m doing the best I can.”

  The old cowboy smiled. “I know you are. But Willa’s not big on listening to anyone except Willa.”

  “I’m working on that, too.”

  He watched Gus and Baez load the horses and head toward Willa’s ranch. It was funny how he was already starting to think of that as home again.

  Turning toward where the vehicles were parked, he saw Taylor headed his way.

  “What’s up, Taylor?”

  “They think we may have a possible hit on Eastwick. The Border Patrol thinks he may have tried to cross over but jackrabbited when he realized they were doing more than a cursory search of vehicles.”

  “Do we know where?”

  “Yep, got it programmed into the GPS, and one of the border guys is trying to follow him in an unmarked car.”

  “Let’s roll.”

  ***

  Simon Eastwick was growing angrier and more frustrated by the hour. First, his damn wife’s body was found. Then, when he tried to kidnap Willa Reynolds to use as a guide in the wilderness, the damn US Marshals almost got him. Simon had been paying far too much attention to Willa’s tits. He’d planned to make use of her while they were traveling together and then sell her to the highest bidder once they were south of the border.

  Unfortunately, he’d slipped up and confessed he had killed his wife. That shouldn’t have been a problem. He’d contacted some rather unsavory businessmen he knew and was able to locate a guy who said he could dispose of her for a reasonable fee. The bastard had missed his shot, and the marshals had taken Willa into protective custody. Simon had been fairly certain that, if caught, the local hit man would have sold him out in a New York minute. He’d been able to eliminate that problem by offering to up the guy’s fee and to bring him the cash. If the marshals had found him, they’d managed to somehow keep it out of the headlines. But it didn’t matter, because he was sure all they would have found was a corpse and no physical evidence to connect him with the murder.

  Simon had left his wife’s two useless, pampered ponies at a dude ranch and taken two more-experienced horses to get him out of the country. Even that had proved far more difficult than he had imagined. Once again, he’d reached out to former business associates who, for a substantial fee, were willing to pick him up in the desert and take him to Mexico, leaving the stolen horses to be ridden away so that if anyone was tracking him, they would follow the horses instead of Simon.

  He thought things had finally turned around as they approached a small, sleepy border crossing used mostly by locals. When the driver of the town car he was in had mentioned it was taking longer than normal, Simon had watched and realized the Border Patrol agents seemed to be doing a fairly thorough search of all the vehicles. They had pulled the car out of line and headed toward Scottsdale.

  It was becoming apparent to Simon the biggest threat to his new life was Willa Reynolds. His lawyer had thought they had a pretty good chance of beating the case against him for his wife’s death. If he eliminated Willa, he could simply explain to the court that having been accused of his wife’s murder, he had panicked in his grief-stricken state. Simon smiled. He was pretty sure he could sell that. After all, he could sell anything.

  The only thing in his way was Willa. He would have to take care of her himself.

  Chapter 17

  Willa woke a bit disoriented as she did not normally nap through the middle of the day. She pulled on a pair of leggings, a bra, and a long sweater, and wandered out into the common area of the safe house. When the two agents on duty rose to greet her, she waved them off.

  “Let’s dispense with formality, okay? I’m Willa. I’m only here because Marshal McDaniel is a worrywart and doesn’t think I could handle a putz like Simon Eastwick.”

  Both agents grinned at one another. It was apparent to her that she and Mac as an item was not news to either.

  “He just wants to keep you safe Ms.…Willa,” he corrected when she glared at him. “We’ll try and make you as comfortable as we can. I’m sure
Mac showed you the entrance to the escape tunnel.”

  “He did. Like he thinks I’d leave him or anyone else to make a stand while I head for the hills?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Our sworn job is to protect you so the man accused of killing Evie Eastwick is brought to justice. You’re our best shot at that. As I understand it, he confessed to you. That makes you an enormous threat. If we say run, you run. If you get away and something happens to us, we did the job we signed on for, and we put Eastwick away. If you don’t run and we fall, then we failed.”

  For the first time, Willa really heard what he was saying. “I-I didn’t understand,” she stammered.

  The man grinned. “And now you do. So, we’re good? If we say run, you get into that room, bolt the door, and rabbit down that tunnel to safety.”

  She nodded. “Either of you hungry?”

  “Yes, ma’am. And John Hampton says you’re one helluva cook. He made sure we had all the stuff you use to make meatloaf and said if you offered to make it, we were in for a treat.”

  “And if I know John, he made sure I had enough so there’d be plenty of leftovers for sandwiches.”

  “And we were to tell you we prefer your rustic smashed potatoes.”

  Willa laughed. “Yes, John would tell you that. He’s a big fan.”

  “He seems to know you pretty well.”

  “He does. His wife works for me, and they’re good friends with both Mac and me.”

  “You don’t have to feel obligated to cook for us.”

  Willa shook her head. “This is John’s way of trying to keep me occupied, so I’m not too much of a pain in the ass.”

  “He seemed to think the best thing to do if you were being less than cooperative”—he smiled as Willa laughed out loud—“was to call Mac.”

  “Remind me to hit Marshal Hampton over the head with something heavy next time I see him.”