My Sassy Settler (Willamette Wives Book 2)

by Maggie Ryan

  My Sassy Settler

  Willamette Wives, Book Two

  By

  Maggie Ryan

  ©2015 by Blushing Books® and Maggie Ryan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  Ryan, Maggie

  My Sassy Settler

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-140-6

  Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the Author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  A Note to My Readers:

  About Maggie Ryan

  Ebook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  About Blushing Books

  Chapter One

  "Good morning," Anna said as she gently patted Bessie's wide, leathery rump. Large brown eyes looked up to meet Anna's green ones. "And how are you this fine day?" Their milk cow gave a low moo. "I'm glad to hear you are feeling fine. Today's churning day, so we need to fill the pail, okay?" The only answer she heard was the soft sound of hay being munched and the swish of a tail flicking to and fro. The petite woman tugged on the animal's halter and guided her out of the stall. Setting the three legged stool in place, Anna sat and aligned the pail beneath the cow's udder. Milking was a chore she'd grown to love, as the repetitious task allowed her mind to wander. Spurts of milk pinged into the pail as she made a list in her head of things that needed to be accomplished.

  She was so lost in her thoughts that it took her several minutes to realize that something seemed out of place. Turning her head, she saw the top bale on the hay stack shifting, allowing several pieces of straw to slide down to land on the dirt floor. Worried that an animal had found its way into the sanctuary of the barn, she leaned back in an attempt to peer around the large stack. Her brow furrowed and then her heart began to beat faster. Unless animals had begun wearing clothing, somebody was hiding behind the hay.

  "Who's there?" she called out and then flinched, realizing that she should have just stood and left the barn to find her husband. He'd warned her several times to be aware of her surroundings. They might have settled in the valley with other pioneers who had become neighbors as well as dear friends, but threats still existed. Besides wild animals, there were those individuals who found raiding and stealing easier than working from dawn to dusk in order to better their lives.

  "I'm warning you, I've got a gun," she went on. While that was a little fib, she did know that there was a gun, and a man who definitely knew how to use it, only a short distance away. She was about to stand and make a dash for the door when a soft voice answered.

  "Don't shoot, it's me."

  "Agatha?" She relaxed instantly but her curiosity grew as she recognized the voice. "What are you doing?"

  A moment of silence passed before the young woman answered. "Hiding."

  That much was obvious. "Why are you hiding?" A longer silence followed, until Anna realized the silliness of having a conversation with a stack of hay bales. "Come out of there."

  "I-I can't," Agatha said quietly.

  "Why on earth not?" As she asked the question, the memory of a scene from her past flashed across her mind. "You're not naked, are you?"

  "What? Naked! Of course not! Why would I be naked? Why would you think that?"

  "Calm down. You are hiding behind the hay and won't come out. What else am I expected to think? I thought maybe you…" Realizing it was far too cold to be skinny dipping in the creek, Anna changed direction. "I don't know, lost your clothes?"

  "Don't be blasphemous. I am never without covering! That's not proper."

  "Ever?" The accusation of being improper was ignored as Anna's disbelief took precedent. "How do you take a bath? What about when—"

  "Have you seen Wyatt?"

  "Wyatt?" The question threw her but Anna glanced around the barn as if expecting
to see Agatha's husband hiding in another location.

  "No," she offered as her fingers returned to her task. "I can fetch him after I finish—"

  "No!"

  The answer was so emphatically given that Anna had to react quickly when Bessie gave a snort as she stepped forward. Using one hand, she grabbed the pail before it toppled over, and used her other hand to reach up and pat the cow's side. Keeping her tone soft, she urged the large beast to settle, regretting the fact she'd forgotten to hook the halter's rope to the milking ring to hold the animal in place. "Shh, girl, it's okay."

  "No it's not."

  It took her a moment to realize that Agatha had thought she was talking to her, and that her tone had gone from the bark of offense at the suggestion she was naked to one sounding as if she had lost all hope. Anna shook her head in confusion and turned on her stool to face the hay stack. "Okay, what's going on?"

  A loud sniffle was the only answer given, which was immediately followed by a sob. Bessie again shifted her weight and Anna sighed and pulled the pail out from beneath her. Standing, she led the cow back into her stall and gave her rump a pat.

  "Agatha, I can't help you if you won't tell me what happened. Come out of there and we'll go into the house. It's too cold out here and I've got coffee on. I'm sure no matter what it is that everything will work out…"

  "No it won't. Wyatt thinks I'm the worst wife ever. I broke the eggs and he was so mad I think steam was coming out of his ears. He-he hates me!"

  Anna couldn't imagine the man thinking any such thing. Scooping feed into Bessie's trough gave her some time to think about what to say. Running her hand over the cow's side, she shook her head. "I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

  "He does! He said I was-was a disobedient wife."

  Ah, that was something Anna could imagine Wyatt not only thinking, but saying. Her own husband often reminded her that obedience was not only expected, it was required for many reasons.

  "I'm sure he is only trying to teach you that you have to obey the rules to be safe. Richard often scolds me for doing things without thinking first. I'm sure that if you just talk…"

  "No! It won't work. I could tell he was furious. He-he called me a bad girl." Agatha's agitation was not only audible in her tone, but evidently had also caused the woman to shift in her hiding place. The top bale teetered for a moment before toppling to the floor, making dust and hay scatter everywhere.

  "Good grief, this is ridiculous," Anna said, closing the stall door and moving across the barn. A violent sneeze erupted from behind the hay and she shook her head.

  "Agatha, come out from behind there before you make more of a mess or catch your death. I'm sure you misunderstood him—"

  "I didn't! I know he wishes he'd never even met me. He wants some perfect little wife who doesn't freeze when he tou—a wife who is never bad!"

  Sighing, Anna hugged her cloak around her. The couple had only been married for a short time but she had no doubt that Wyatt adored his wife. Agatha could be the sweetest woman and yet, thinking about the past few weeks, Anna realized the woman had smiled less and less, seeming to prefer to be left alone than to associate with either herself, Charity, or even Harriet. Her accusation of Anna thinking blasphemous thoughts indicated that perhaps she considered her inappropriate company. She was beginning to wonder if Agatha truly loved her husband or whether she had simply wed him to get away from her step-father.

  Remembering the sermons Agatha's step-father had shouted during the months the wagon train had taken to reach their destination, Anna figured she should be a bit more understanding. God knew that if she'd had to grow up under that man's roof, she'd most likely either not ever find joy in anything, or else she'd never sit down because her bottom would constantly be throbbing. She wished Harriet was here to offer some suggestions. The older woman had shared several tidbits of valuable advice with her when Anna herself had been trying to adjust to married life. Unfortunately, she didn't live on the ranch. Instead, it was just the two of them, and all she could do was try to help.

  "Look, I'm sure you aren't bad. Naughty, maybe, but—"

  "Who's naughty?"

  Anna's head whipped around to see her husband, Richard, standing in the open doorway.

  "What?"

  "Sweetie, are you feeling okay?" he asked, grinning.

  "Yes, why?"

  "Do you need spectacles?"

  "What? Why would you say that?"

  "Because that's not a person you are talking to. It's a pile of hay."

  Rolling her eyes, Anna shook her head. "I can see just fine."

  Richard stepped closer and put his finger under her chin, lifting her face. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"

  "I'm sorry, but did you seriously think I was conversing with a hay stack?"

  He shrugged and grinned even more widely. "If not the hay, then who?"

  "What?"

  He gave her a funny look but repeated, "I asked who you were talking to."

  The question made her pause. It was obvious that Agatha was upset, and Anna didn't want to be the one to upset her further. "Um, nobody."

  "Annabelle, I definitely heard you talking, and if it wasn't…"

  Hearing him use her formal name was not normally a good sign. "Bessie," she practically shouted, jumping a little at the tone of her own voice.

  "Our Bessie?"

  Anna nodded rather vigorously.

  "Our cow was naughty? How?"

  "What?" His eyes on hers were making her extremely flustered. "I mean, yes. She tried to knock over the milk pail." Seeing his right eyebrow lift, her pulse quickened. It was obvious he was not buying her story but she couldn't think straight. When the cow shifted in her stall, Anna pointed in her direction.

  "See! You try to milk a cow that keeps trying to kick you! I almost spilled the entire pail, and then we wouldn't have enough milk to churn. That would be just awful. I-I know how much you like butter slathered on everything."

  "Did it work?"

  "What?"

  "You are beginning to sound like a parrot, sweetie." His twinkling eyes showed his amusement. "Did instructing our cow not to be naughty encourage Bessie to produce? If so, maybe you could talk to the chickens about—"

  "It's not funny!" Anna stomped her foot, her eyes flashing as she stepped back.

  Richard reached out and caught her around the waist, pulling her to him. She felt his hand dropping to rub across her backside. "Calm down. I was just teasing. I certainly don't wish to see you kicked by Bess, but I don't appreciate you rolling your eyes, stomping your foot, and yelling at me. Understand?"

  The skin of her bottom crawled as he gave her right buttock a squeeze. She had no problem answering this question quickly and with complete honesty. "Yes, sir. I-I didn't mean to yell."

  "I don't know what's going on, but something definitely is. You're as jumpy as a grasshopper, and…"

  "Have you seen my wife?" Wyatt Wilcox stepped further into the barn, his head swiveling as his eyes scanned the dim interior.

  Wishing she'd never even looked towards the hay, Anna felt her insides beginning to churn. Perhaps Agatha hadn't been so far off the mark. Though she couldn't imagine Wyatt thinking so ill of his young bride, Anna's opinion began to change. It didn't help that she'd seen the switch Wyatt was holding. It was all too easy to imagine it flicking against a defenseless, bare bottom.

  "Who?" Forget about parrots—she'd obviously become a barn owl. Anna wasn't surprised when Wyatt gave her a funny look.

  "Agatha, you know, my wife?"

  "Of course I knew who; I meant why would you think she's in the barn?" Anna asked. Realizing she had looked towards the hay, she quickly turned and moved to pick up the milking stool and place it back against the wall.

  "I've looked everywhere else," Wyatt said.

  "What happened to you?" Richard asked. "Why are you limping?"

  Anna turned to see their friend walk a bit further into the barn. While before she'd only seen the switc
h, she now realized he did seem to be favoring his right leg.

  "Chester stepped in a gopher hole and I flew right out of the saddle. He rolled and pinned my leg. It took some doing but I got free."

  "Are you okay?" Richard asked.

  "Yeah. I'm just glad neither of us broke a leg."

  Anna wondered if the gasp she heard had carried to the men who were standing a mere few feet away. She moved towards the hay and quietly made a shushing sound before bending to pick up the milk pail. As her fingers closed around the handle, a large hand covered hers.

  "Why are you trembling?" Richard's free hand moved to lift her chin until she had to look into his face. Swallowing hard, she forced herself not to look away.

  "I'm not…"

  "Yes, Annabelle, you are." He spoke softly, and yet she heard the unmistakable tone of authority in his voice. She wished more than anything that Agatha had found a different hiding place, preferably miles away.

  Forcing her gaze to swivel away from the hay, she slid her hand from beneath his and wiped it on her apron. Looking at him, she asked, "Would you switch me if Bessie had kicked over the milk pail?"

  "Of course not…"

  "Then don't you think it's wrong that he'd switch his wife for breaking a few stupid eggs?"

  Richard took her chin again and turned her face to his. "What I think is wrong is that you are obviously upset about something and won't talk to me."

  "I'm not—"

  "Be very careful, Annabelle. I suggest you remember what happens when you lie to me."

  She felt her face begin to heat as she recalled exactly how this man punished her when she was caught telling a little fib, much less an outright lie. Rather than think about how she'd most likely be tumbled over his knees if she continued acting like a fool, she attempted to refocus his attention elsewhere.

  "Oh, I think I hear Johnny. Poor thing, he must be scared to wake up all alone." Without waiting for her husband's permission, Anna pulled away for the second time.