The Rancher and The Bad Girl

by Kira Barcelo

"I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to marry me. Forget that foolishness about marrying a rancher. And until this town can find a young lady who's suitable, you're going to march into that classroom and teach those children as best you can."

  Olivia flailed her arms in frustration. "Aren't you listening? I'm not a teacher!"

  "You are now."

  "No! And I'm not marrying you, either. I wouldn't marry you if—"

  "Yeah, yeah, I know," he drawled before tossing her face down over the leg perched on the rock. "Now you listen here. You're going into that classroom, whether or not you're my wife, and you'll teach those kids until they hire someone else. You went along with that little masquerade so far and now you're not going to disappoint those families." Raising his voice, he added, "And that's final!"

  "But I'm not smart enough to teach anybody," she wailed. There were tears in her voice. "And you can't spank me for this—"

  "You are smart enough. You're a very smart lady, Olivia." He raised her skirts and, in spite of her squirming and embarrassed protests, yanked her underwear down to her knees.

  Her behind shivered, more from the anticipation of what was coming, because it wasn't the least bit cold out. She reached a hand back in an attempt to protect her tail from the painful punishment, but he pressed it to the small of her back.

  "And that's not why you're being spanked. You're being spanked because you didn't stop that damn horse when I told you to."

  "F-Forest…."

  "Yes?"

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. "You really want to marry me? Still?"

  "Yes, I do. And I'll propose to you proper later. Tonight. But first, the back of my hand has some business to tend to with your bottom."

  "Forest, no, wait, don't spank me. I'm sorry I didn't—ow!"

  He had her far enough bent over his leg that she was on her tippy-toes as he began spanking her hard and briskly, the sound of his hand striking her bare rear, resounding and crisp, and humorously enough, punctuated each time with a plaintive yelp or whimper. This wasn't the lighthearted, sensual spanking he'd given her during the time they'd made love, this was firm discipline. He was lighting a fire in her naughty behind with the purpose of teaching her a stern lesson.

  "Next time I holler for you," he was saying, the words coming out in a staccato rhythm as his hand connected with her plump posterior, "to stop—"

  "Oh, I'll stop, I'll stop!" To credit, she was staying put in her position, though hopping wildly on one foot and then the other, all on tip-toe.

  He continued spanking her, turning every inch from the middle of her cheeks to her sweet spot bright red. "And another thing. There'll be no more self-pity about the past. No more talking in a way that's disrespectful to yourself. That's not who you are anymore. Understood? And you'd better start learning who wears the pants in this family, Olivia Parrish, or you'll be spending a lot of time getting turned over my knee."

  "Y-yes, sir. And I won't c-call you a s-scoundrel anymore. Or a rogue. Or a cad. Or a—"

  "Oh, now, kitten. You don't have to stop that." He paused, looking hurt, his arm poised high in the air, ready to deliver another wallop to her already sore rear. "I kind of like it when you call me those things."

  Again, Olivia looked over her shoulder at him, licking her lower lip seductively. A mischievous spark flashed in her eyes. "Oh… you… scoundrel!"

  He laughed wickedly. Undeterred, he landed the last smack across her bottom, making her wince and howl, then let her off his knee and took her into his arms.

  "I hope you learned your lesson, Olivia," he lectured her, even though he felt dizzy with arousal and about ready to have his way with her, right out there in the woods behind the ranch. "Maybe next time, when I tell you to stop, it won't take me saying it three times before you listen. And if you give me any more trouble tonight, young lady, you'll get another spanking. Only next time, I'll use a paddle. You won't be able to sit for a week—"

  "Yes, my darling… husband-to-be. You can scold me later!" Gracing him with a pretty grin, she finished rubbing her swollen bottom, hugged his neck, and parted her lips for his tongue to enter in a long, sensuous kiss.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was hard not to get swept up in the excitement of that brisk and cool September morning.

  With hardly any room on the boardwalk, Reeve Larson stood in the street, watching the children filing into the schoolhouse. He had to marvel at what incredible beings women were, everyone from Mae and Mrs. Stogner, two such different people, to his own cherished wife.

  "Garner Falls has a school," Marshal Ed Fraley remarked to no one in particular. "Ain't that something?"

  Reeve nodded in silent agreement. The fact was Garner Falls now looked nothing like it did when he and most of the other men first decided to settle there. The church had been built because of the women and now their latest endeavor, the schoolhouse.

  Besides now seeming more like a real, thriving town, there was a spirit of hopefulness in the air. Reeve mused about something Melanie had said at the breakfast table that morning.

  Makes you wish you had a little boy or girl getting ready for school today.

  Wistfully, he smiled and tucked his hands into his pockets. He had been noticing the last few weeks that Melanie's usually lithe waist had expanded slightly. She had also been having an extra slice of bread spread with jam now and then, in general eating more than was typical for her.

  She herself had mentioned it. Irked with herself, she'd admitted she had been gaining weight and needed to curb her appetite before she became fat. In Reeve's opinion, she'd been too thin to begin with during those first couple of months since she'd come to Montana. If anything, she was filling out her dresses with a curvier, more womanly figure.

  The question remained, was she just gaining weight, or was there a tiny son or daughter growing inside her?

  Now that was exciting! Him, Reeve Larson, about to be a daddy! That had been part of the plan, naturally, when he'd decided on having a mail order bride. Yet now, with the reality of a child looming, he was surprised by how the thought made his heart feel so full and yet so light.

  Melanie had been talking to Janie, who had been Arnie's wife now for all of two weeks or so, but she strolled down the street to join Reeve. He put his arm around her.

  "She even looks like a teacher, doesn't she?" Melanie remarked.

  What an odd thing to say. Laughing, Reeve said, "Well, she should. How many years has your sister been a teacher now?"

  "Oh—oh, might as well be fifty. Don't tell her that, now!" Melanie also laughed.

  Right before she closed the door to the schoolhouse, Olivia stood there in her prim brown dress, her hair brushed up into a bun. As the door closed, she smiled at the smallest child entering the building and accepted a dainty red apple from her little, chubby hand.

  "Nice of your sister to say she'll stay on until Mae's niece gets here," Reeve said.

  "Nice of Forest to share his wife with the children," she added.

  "Future wife. When's their wedding again?"

  "Next week. He won't have to share her for too long. Mae says Patricia can't wait to come. She even has a teaching certificate and everything!"

  "Why is that special? Didn't your sister get one, too?"

  The big event was now over, since the children were in school and their lessons were about to begin. The rest of the day would go on as any other Monday, with Reeve and Melanie returning to the ranch. He helped her onto the wagon.

  "Hm, you know, Reeve, that's a good question. She's never told me why. I tend to think they weren't giving certificates back when Olivia was Patricia's age."

  "That's probably it." Or at least, it sounded plausible. From what he'd heard, many schools were taught by anyone who could read and write, as well as successfully handle a dozen or so children of different ages.

  He hopped onto the wagon, seating himself beside her and taking the reins. "So what's next?"

  "Next? Wh
at do you mean?"

  Smiling, he shook the reins and steered the horse onto the street, away from the boardwalk.

  "For you ladies. What do you all have planned for us uncivilized men next?"

  He'd expected her to laugh good-naturedly. Yet when Reeve turned to her, she was staring over her shoulder at the boardwalk, looking pale and frightened.

  "Darling, what's wrong?" he asked, alarmed.

  "Oh, oh, nothing." She turned back around in her seat.

  "What do you mean, nothing? Something's upset you. What is it?"

  Melanie delayed in answering him for a moment before she touched her stomach.

  "It's nothing, really. I don't feel very well. My stomach is very upset."

  "Oh. Really?" His smile broadened.

  "Reeve! Now why would that amuse you?"

  "It's not amusing, angel. I'll get you home as fast as I can. It's just that—are you sure you're not—"

  At last, she giggled. "Not sure yet. I'll let you know when I am. What would you think if I was?"

  "What would I think?" Reeve grasped her hand and squeezed it with affection. "I'd be the happiest man on earth if you and I were having a child."

  "Our first child." Nestling against him cozily, she confided, "I would love to have five or six children. Wouldn't you?"

  "I sure would. Right now, though, I'll gladly take one. Melanie…" his voice trailed off. Something was wrong. He knew her well enough to recognize that fretful look clouding her eyes. "I wish you'd tell me what's going on," he said, with both worry and impatience.

  "I told you, I don't feel well. I'm very tired and I'm not feeling well." Wilting slightly, Melanie told him, "And I… thought I saw someone I used to know."

  Her answer was a little too vague for him. "Who?"

  "Just someone who was very—he was terrible to me and my sister."

  "Terrible? In what way?"

  "Reeve, please. I don't want to talk about it."

  He huffed out a sigh. "Would he have followed you here, all the way from Maryland? Because that's not just terrible, it's insane."

  "Please, Reeve. I don't want to—"

  "You don't want to discuss it. Fine. With me… your husband." Seeing her looking so upset, he tamped down on his anger. He didn't want to argue and he knew she didn't, either.

  Yet they rode in silence all the way back to the ranch, barely making it home before the clouds turned dark gray with rain. The men had been saying how much they needed rain. A loud cacophony of thunder off somewhere beyond the mountains, sounded as he entered the house after Melanie.

  Reeve took off his hat, holding it by its brim and watching her ascend the stairs slowly, with difficulty.

  "Should I have Eli call for Doc, Melanie?"

  "In this weather? Doc's too old for that, darling. I'll be fine."

  "Come on now, woman! It's not the doctor I'm worried about. I'll have Eli call for him and I'll stay here with you."

  "All right." Stopping on the stairs with one hand on the banister, she looked back down at him. Her face was ashen now. "You're right. And someone should make sure—they should make sure Olivia is safe."

  "Olivia? She's teaching the children. Why shouldn't she be safe?" Reeve clutched the banister tightly. "Melanie, I demand that you tell me what's going on!"

  He watched her teeter, having gotten halfway up the stairs, and caught her in his arms just as she almost tumbled down the stairs.

  "Oh, Reeve, something's happening to me," she breathed.

  "You're getting right to bed, and then we're getting the doctor to come here." He left no room for argument, picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way up the stairs and to their bedroom.

  Even after all he'd gone through, either during his boyhood or as a man making his way to the new frontier, he had never been so afraid.

  * * * * *

  Melanie couldn't describe what was happening, other than to say there were "pictures" flashing across her mind. She felt almost disconnected from her body, seeing the images before her eyes, feeling as if she were physically falling into them.

  That was the first time she had seen Olivia working for Bartholomew. Later on, Melanie would realize the miserable truth, that it had happened much earlier. But that night her sister was seventeen and dressed only in a corset. Her face was heavily painted, her lips a deep red. Her hair was loose and falling around her bare shoulders. There was a man on the bed behind her, brusquely commanding her to close the door and get back on the bed.

  I'm sorry, Mellie. You have to go away now.

  Olivia, no. Let's run away, please!

  But the man had sworn under his breath, gotten out of bed, and slammed the door violently in Melanie's face.

  Then there was Bartholomew breaking down the door to the schoolhouse. The children were screaming and running away. And Olivia, being dragged from behind the desk by her hair. That monster was striking her, like he'd struck Melanie, too, many times in the past….

  And there was a peal of thunder.

  Olivia was in danger. How could Melanie reach her? She shouldn't have left her alone in town with that monster. Melanie stirred, tears stinging her eyes.

  She was afraid to tell Reeve the truth. How would she ever be able to forgive himself for that? She could have helped Olivia, but instead she thought of herself.

  "Melanie? Can you hear me, dear? It's Doc Wilmont."

  Thunder. Raindrops tapping against the window. Someone caressing her hand.

  Opening her eyes, she looked up into the loving eyes of her sister, Olivia. Doc, on her right, stood looking down at her, a kind grin on his weather-beaten, wrinkled face.

  "You're all right! Oh, you're fine!" Melanie rasped out with relief.

  "Me? Oh, yes, honey. I survived my first day with the children." Olivia's chuckle subsided and she pushed the hair away from her sister's brow. "More importantly, how are you, little sister?"

  "Me? I'm…." It took effort, but she turned to the doctor. "Fine. Am I find, Doc?"

  "Yes. You gave us a bit of a scare, but you're fine now, Mrs. Larson." He paused to consult his watch, dangling from a chain, which he tucked back into his jacket pocket. "I'm going to recommend that you get plenty of bed rest. You've lost some blood, but not too much, thank God."

  "Lost blood?"

  "Not too much," the doctor repeated with that fatherly blend of gentleness and firmness employed by physicians. "Right now I don't think you'll need to be bedridden until the baby's born."

  "The baby?"

  "Yes, honey. The baby. You're having a baby." Olivia smiled and arranged Melanie's quilt around her. "Didn't you know that?"

  "No. No, I didn't. I wasn't sure." Melanie's voice cracked from the emotion. "Does Reeve know?"

  "Does he know? Yes, he knows now. Doc told him. He's happy, but he's worried about you, too." Licking her dry lips, Olivia told her, "I'll be helping you. Mae's going to see about Patricia coming sooner to teach the children. And Forest says that if you need me, we'll be married but we'll stay with you so I can take care of you until you're stronger."

  Suddenly, Melanie remembered. She turned to the doctor. "Doc… do you mind giving me a few minutes alone with my sister?"

  "Not at all. But not for too long, Olivia," he instructed. "Your sister needs as much rest as possible."

  Nodding, Melanie waited until the doctor shuffled from the room. She turned her attention back to Olivia and kept her voice at whisper level.

  "Olivia, I don't know why, but Bartholomew is here."

  Her sister frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  "Bartholomew. He's here! I saw him earlier in town."

  "Mel, honey, that's impossible. Must be someone who looks like him or something."

  "No, listen! It was him. And I didn't want to leave you alone, but I couldn't tell Reeve."

  "Oh, Melanie—Bartholomew's dead."

  Melanie tried to sit up but stopped when her sister's hands pressed down on her shoulders.

  "Eas
y," Olivia ordered.

  "Dead? How do you know—"

  "Look, I didn't want to tell you this. I just didn't want to ever mention his name around you again. But Rebecca wrote to tell me. She says he died right before she left for Colorado." Olivia gave a gentle smile and sat herself on the chair beside the bed. "It seems you and I gave some of those older girls hope for a better life. She went the mail order bride route, too. Came out west. But back to what we were saying…" she paused to take a breath. "Rebecca wrote in her letter that, before she left Baltimore, Bartholomew was killed. Gunned down. Not a big surprise, really. We always knew that gambling habit of his would be his downfall. Well, we were right."

  Melanie allowed herself to relax. "So that couldn't have been him I saw twice, here in Garner Falls."

  "No. Even if he were alive, he wouldn't have come all the way out here for us. Just a couple of whores." Her laughter sounded brittle. "That's crass of me, I know. But it's the truth. That's all we were to him. Two soiled doves, easily replaced by younger ones. He wouldn't have thought it was worth the price of a train fare to chase us down."

  I even dreamed about him. It seemed pointless for her to mention that. Melanie drank in some calming breaths.

  That dream had been about her past resurfacing and destroying her. In essence, wasn't that what had been happening for some time? Slowly, her past had been breaking her down. It had lurked in the background, even while she had been diligently trying to build a brand-new life with her husband.

  My husband. The father of my baby.

  She laid a hand on her stomach, marveling. No wonder she'd been so hungry, yet at the same time queasy, and so tired! How long would it be before she felt the little life inside her moving?

  To think she'd almost had the joy from that news robbed from her, all because she was permitting the past to haunt her.

  They heard a rap against the door before it opened. Reeve appeared in the doorway, his mouth curving into a smile.

  "I think you two could use some privacy," Olivia acknowledged before rising from her seat. "Call me if you need me for anything, Mellie."

  Her older sister hadn't called her by that name in so long. Melanie watched Reeve replace Olivia in the chair, pulling it even closer to her. She stared at him with concern. There was stubble on his face, drawn out by worry. He looked exhausted.