Maggie Meets Her Match

by McLeod, Dinah

  “I’ve got it,” Abigail said, moving in swiftly and pulling it off the hot stove. “There, now. Are you hurt?”

  Tears smarted my eyes, but they were more from embarrassment than anything else. And guilt besides, because even after I’d snapped at her, Abigail was looking at me with nothing but tender concern.

  “I think—”

  “Here, let me see.” Clay was by my side before I’d realized it, taking hold of my shoulders and turning me to face him. “Hold out your hand, sweetheart.”

  My heart jumped in my chest at the endearment and I looked at him with wide eyes full of surprise.

  He wasn’t paying my reaction any mind, however, and ordered, “Your hand, Maggie,” in a voice that was just as insistent as it was stern.

  I yielded straight away, holding it out toward him, wincing when I saw the burn that had raised on my skin.

  “You got yourself good,” he said with a whistle. “Your brothers have lard ‘round here somewheres?”

  “No, I need to get to town and get some things.”

  “Alcohol?” he asked, but he was looking beyond me, to Abby.

  “Actually, I have some salve.”

  I turned to her in surprise, but she’d already run off to fetch it. I could feel Clay’s eyes burning the nape of my neck and I felt shame wash over me anew. I tried to pluck my hand away, but when he held fast, I bowed my head in acquiescence, rather than show him my blushing cheeks. I could feel him waiting for me to say something, so I offered the only thing I could think of. “I’m sorry I burnt the biscuits.”

  “I don’t give a fig about the biscuits, Maggie, and you ought to know better. Never you mind, this can wait until later.”

  A shiver ran through me at his pronouncement. I got the impression it wouldn’t be a conversation that involved much talking.

  Just then, the door opened and my brothers spilled in, one after the other, laughing about something. Wes was the first to notice us and I hadn’t realized until I caught sight of his face that it looked like we were holding hands.

  “What’s this now?”

  “I didn’t know you were stoppin’ by, Clayborn,” Trent remarked.

  Before he had a chance to answer, Abby came back, bearing a small jar in her hand. “This ought to do it. Maggie, hold out your hand.”

  Clay let go long enough for me to do as she’d instructed and Abby went right to work administering the salve to my hand. I was struck by how different she seemed all of a sudden. Quiet, sweet Abigail seemed unflappable and in control as she tended to my hurt, as though her normal shyness and uncertainty had vanished altogether. It was a sight to behold, and my brother was staring at her in admiration, beholding.

  “What happened?” Wes asked, clearing his throat.

  “It was my fault, I—”

  “Maggie just forgot the rag before she went for the skillet is all,” Abby interjected smoothly.

  Wesley furrowed his brow. “Doesn’t seem like you, Mags. Everythin’ alright?”

  I shot Abigail a grateful look before I nodded. “Yes, everything’s fine. You hungry?”

  “Starvin’,” Trent said, moving toward his wife to say hello. The way he took her in his arms and kissed her, right there for the whole world to see, I wondered if he had meant his stomach was hungry, or something else altogether.

  “Trent,” she scolded at she broke away, batting at his chest. “Whatever are you thinkin’?”

  He bent down and whispered something to her, so low that I couldn’t make it out. But the way her eyes brightened and her cheeks flushed as she laughed at him told me all I needed to know.

  I turned back to Clay, wondering if we’d ever be so happy or in love. His eyes were still stern, his face impassive, and I turned away from him with a sigh. “I’ll start gettin’ the food to the table.”

  * * *

  “That was some mighty good home cookin’,” Clay said, pushing his chair back and patting his stomach. “Thank you kindly, ladies.”

  I noticed with a smile that he’d had two browned biscuits. He’d winked at me when he bit into the first one, and it had helped my anger cool, as well as set my pulse to racing at his playfulness. Clay sure was hard to figure. One minute, he was powerful stern and the next he was winking at me like he’d been sitting across the table from me for ages.

  “I was wondering if you’d care for a walk, Maggie?”

  I gulped as I turned to face him. The moment I’d been fearing had arrived. I knew that though it might sound like a request, it was not. Besides which, I’d look silly to refuse him. There was nothing I could do but nod and smile politely. “I’d like that, but I should probably wait until everyone is finished so I can get the dishes put away.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Abby said. “Libby and I’ll take care of it tonight.”

  If I didn’t already know her to be so kind and thoughtful, I would of vowed she was trying to make me pay for snapping at her earlier. I swallowed again, trying not to let my nervousness show. “Alright then. Thank you kindly, Abby. You too, Libby.”

  “Oh, but it’s my pleasure,” Libby intoned with a smirk that any other time would have set my teeth on edge.

  Instead, I ignored her, unable to think about anything else as Clay walked toward me and pulled out my chair. “Thank you,” I murmured before tentatively taking the arm he offered.

  “I’ll have her home before too long,” he announced, looking at Wesley.

  “See that you do,” my brother replied with a chuckle, his brown eyes dancing at the pair of us.

  My enthusiasm didn’t match his by half, ‘specially since I knew I was probably going to get a scolding. I followed beside Clay dutifully, who let go of my arm only long enough to open the door for me. Then he tucked my hand in his arm as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

  I wished I could be as relaxed as he seemed. He touched me as though there was nothing more natural in the world, yet the feel of his strong arm around my fingers made my body hum with a music only I seemed to hear. Even though I knew he wasn’t happy with me, he didn’t say anything as he led me away from the house, and as I snuck a peek at him out of the corner of my eye, I allowed myself to pretend that we were just going on a stroll. Unbidden, bits of my dream the night before came back to me, filling me with a sudden urge to touch and be touched by this man, in the most intimate of ways. Sadly, I feared that the touching he had in mind wouldn’t be all that enjoyable.

  “What got into you today?”

  The sound of his voice jarred me out of my thoughts and I turned to him, surprised. “Beg your pardon?”

  He stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. “What was goin’ on with you during dinner?”

  “Oh, well, I…” I shrugged helplessly and gave him what I hoped was a charming smile. “I suppose I let my mouth run away with me.”

  His mouth set in a firm line. “You got that right. You had no right to talk to your sister that way, seein’ as she’s so kind to you. If you hadn’t have insisted on ignorin’ her, your hand never would have gotten hurt.”

  “I know,” I muttered, dropping my eyes.

  “What was that?”

  “Yes, sir,” I corrected resentfully.

  “Are you sulkin’? ‘Cuz I’d stop that, if I was you.”

  I narrowed my eyes and raised my chin, ready to do battle. Who was he to talk to me like this? We weren’t married yet. What’s more, he hardly knew me. What right did he have to scold me as though I was knee-high? Yet, when my eyes met his, I felt something inside me give just enough to sap the defiance right out of me. It left me with nothing but contrition and a desire to please him. “Yes, sir.”

  He rewarded me with a smile and leaned over to press his lips to my forehead. “There, atta girl.”

  “You’re right, Clay. Abby didn’t deserve for me to snap at her and I should have listened. I’ll do better, I promise.”

  “You better.” He picked up my hand, cradling it in his much lar
ger one, looking down at it. “I hate to see you hurt, Maggie. Next time, it might be more than a hand if you’re not careful.”

  “Yes, Clay. I understand.”

  “Good girl. Now, as for that language…” I blanched, and though it wasn’t lost on him, he wasn’t ready to let me off the hook. “You were raised better’n that. I don’t expect to hear that kind of dirty language from a lady. See to it that I don’t again.”

  “Yes, sir.” If it were possible, I hung my head even lower.

  “Turn around.”

  I lifted my head to look at him in surprise. “But—”

  “Now, Maggie.”

  It took every ounce of self-control I had to obey. Even so, it took me a good minute to turn around and I only did so because I could see how impatient he was becoming. The sharp smack that landed against my backside caught me by surprise. “Clay! I said I was sorry!”

  “That you did, darlin’. This is a reminder to behave in the future.” With that, he got to work applying fast, stinging slaps to my backside. There weren’t many, maybe a dozen in all, but they still stung. He stopped before bringing me to tears, but admonished sternly, “It’s not to happen again, unless you want a real spankin’.”

  I winced, remembering the switching he’d given me in the woods not long ago. It couldn’t get more real than that, could it? It wasn’t something I desired to repeat anytime soon, of that I was certain.

  “No rubbing.”

  My hand that had been reaching toward my tingling backside froze. “What?”

  “You heard me, Maggie, now obey. If I decide you need to be punished, you won’t try to lessen the chastisement in any way. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, wondering just how many times I’d be expected to say it before the day was done.

  “Let’s walk for a bit more.” Clay tucked my hand back in his arm as though nothing at all had happened and we began to stroll around the property.

  I tried not to think about similar walks that had taken place in the same fashion, but it was hard not to make comparisons.

  “What are you thinkin’ ‘bout? You got awful quiet.”

  For the briefest of instances, I considered telling him. He had to know some of the details; surely someone had been kind enough to fill him before he decided to come a’callin’ on the town spinster. What would he say, I wondered, if I were to bare everything and tell him then and there? More like than not, he wouldn’t be back on Sunday.

  “What’s botherin’ you? I could see you had somethin’ on your mind when I got to your place.”

  “It’s nothing,” I hedged, making up my mind to keep my silence where the ghosts of the past were concerned.

  “It’s not nothing if you’re upset. It’s not nothing to me.”

  I turned toward him, halting us as I did so. I searched his face and found nothing but earnestness in his deep brown eyes. I loved how expressive his eyes were. They were quick to laugh, quick to glow at me with affection. Clay didn’t seem to be the type of man for sweet nothings, but what he neglected to say with his lips was reflected in his eyes. He was a good-looking man all around, I reflected as I took a closer look. I loved the way he towered over my small frame, the way his arm felt tightened around my hand. He made me feel like he could handle anything. Maybe even me.

  “I burned the biscuits.”

  “Beggin’ your pardon?” he asked, even though I knew he’d heard me just fine.

  “What I mean to say is, why me? Why are you not callin’ on some other girl? Is it because… I’m younger than you?” I finished lamely. “Is it just that you’d rather a spinster to a widow?”

  “A what? Maggie, is that how you see yourself?”

  I laughed in surprise. “‘Course. It’s how everyone sees me. It’s how you must see me, surely.”

  He shook his head firmly. “No. No, Maggie. I reckon I’d be out here with you, right like this, even if you’d buried a couple’a husbands.”

  “Truly?” I hardly dared to breathe as I awaited his answer.

  “Truly. ‘Course, might be I wouldn’t have to spank you so much.”

  The breath I’d trapped in my lungs came whooshing out in an unladylike laugh. “Why, Clayborn, you do know how to flatter a girl.”

  “Naw, Maggie, I’m afraid I’m no good at that sort of thing. I’m sure you’ll see that for yourself soon enough.”

  For the first time since I’d met him, I saw a glimpse of the doubt he must also be feeling and it only served to make me feel closer to him. Without worrying about what he might think, I stepped closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning against his strong, masculine chest. “If you’ll forgive me for the biscuits, I reckon I can overlook your stringent ways.”

  He folded me in his strong arms, not seeming to mind that I initiated the embrace. “Nice to know you think so highly of me, Miz Swift.”

  “I was only tellin’ it true,” I insisted.

  “Yes, perhaps I am a bit firm, but that’s just who I am, Maggie. I don’t reckon I’ll be changin’ anytime soon.”

  I inhaled the manly, earthy scent of him and thought that it might be the best smell I’d ever come across. “I know, Clay.”

  “Do you?”

  I looked up at him and nodded. “Yes. I understand.”

  “Good.” He leaned forward and pressed another kiss to my forehead, ignoring the way that I stood on tiptoe, hoping his lips might fall lower. “And don’t let me hear you puttin’ yourself down that way again, y’hear?”

  I sighed in exasperation. “Yes, sir. Any more rules I ought to know about?”

  He arched an eyebrow at my surly tone, which instantly made me feel contrite. “Yeah, I reckon there are. You want we should go over them now?”

  “Let’s see, no cussing, no snapping, no putting myself down. Did I miss anything?” I asked, my tone much sweeter than before.

  “So you were listenin’,” he chuckled. “I wondered. Well, I don’t ‘spect my expectations would be much different than those your brothers have. I won’t have you behavin’ in any way unbecomin’ to a lady. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I won’t have you puttin’ yourself in danger and I won’t have you runnin’ off without tellin’ me where you’re goin’ and when you’ll be back.”

  I was surprised by the command, because ever since Pa had passed I’d enjoyed more freedom, as long as my chores were done. Still, I nodded, my heart turning in my chest at his rugged, handsome face. “Yes, sir.”

  “I have to admit, I sure like how that sounds comin’ from your lips, darlin’.”

  I smiled up at him, feeling butterflies work their way into my stomach. “And you said you were no good at sweet nothings.”

  Chapter Four

  I’d waited all week eagerly anticipating another dinner at the Swift farm, looking forward to getting to know Maggie better. The more I learned about her, the more certain I became that she was the one I’d been waiting for. I’d hoped for a quiet evening and a home-cooked meal, some polite small talk. The moment I hit the door, it was plain to see that those were foolish hopes. Every time the three women neared one another, the tension in the room was so strong a blind man coulda seen it.

  No, the evening hadn’t gone as I’d hoped at all. I’d found myself saddled up on Sapphire, riding in the pitch dark trying to find the woman I intended to marry. It was damn foolish of her to leave the safety of the house, especially on a moonless night like this one. The stars didn’t give much light to search by and I was beginning to wonder if I was even goin’ the right way. It was too hard to call.

  The farther I rode, the more antsy I became. There was no tellin’ how long it would take to find her, or even if I would. Normally, I was a first-class tracker, but there was hardly enough light to see my own hand in front of my face. I could hardly believe she’d run off as she had, endangering herself. And all over some stupid women’s squabble.

  From what I could tell, Abigail
and Trent were moving into what once was her parents’ room and Maggie was none too happy about it, a fact that she made plain with muttered retorts and an all-out bad attitude.

  I’d shot her a smile when I saw that the biscuits she’d made that night were a perfect golden brown, hopin’ she’d smile in return, but she barely noticed me. She was too busy looking at her newest sister-in-law with the sourest expression I’d ever seen.

  None of the women seemed inclined to make the meal more lively. It would have served ‘em right if we’d spent the whole meal talking about the wheat crop. I could see Maggie was feeling ornery from the way she glowered down at her empty plate, but even so, I was startled by the rancor in her voice when she had the mind to speak.

  I’d thought about excusing us and having a quick word with her outside, but I’d decided against it, which was why I blamed myself for the current mess I found myself in—not that that meant I wouldn’t be having a conversation with her later about starting this foolishness. I’d known she was upset, that had been plain to see, but she was so ornery it plumb surprised me.

  I could still hear her exclaiming sourly, “Your wives slept the day away leaving me to do everything, as usual. Am I the only one who knows how to work around here?”

  That did it. I’d reached for her hand and gave it a yank, hopin’ to remind her that she should show better manners, especially in front of company, but she’d stayed stubbornly turned away from me. Why, I’d had half a mind to pick her up and carry her bodily from the room. In that pause that followed, I’d started to stand to my feet until Libby proclaimed she was with child. Every eye in the room turned toward her, even I looked her way before quickly dropping my eyes—back in my day, women didn’t go around announcin’ they were in a family way. But the situation here tonight hadn’t given her much choice. I cut my eyes at Maggie, feeling my irritation with her mount. The girl really did need a good hiding.