Maggie had scrambled to her feet so fast, her chair had tumbled backwards. “Pardon me,” she said, stepping away from the table.
I’d taken it upon myself to go after her, hardly hearing her brothers as they tried to tell me that I shouldn’t think too badly of her. All I could think about for the present was finding her, and whether I would first hug her or take a switch to her backside when I did. If I did. I wasn’t feelin’ overconfident and it didn’t help none that I had a bad feeling about her running off. I felt it in my bones—I had to get to her and quick.
Trouble was, I didn’t have the faintest clue as to which way she went, and the sky was only getting darker by the minute. It was a foolhardy thing for her to do, running off the way she had.
Since I knew she’d left by the back door, I’d decided to assume she’d kept in that direction, and had urged Sapphire to head that way. As we rode and my eyes scanned the tall grass, I couldn’t help but realize how fearful I was. I’d never thought I’d feel so strongly for any woman, but Maggie—beautiful, spirited Maggie—made it easy. She had a strong will, no doubt, but I could match it. She let her mouth run away from time to time, but I could help her. First, I had to find her.
The further down we went, the taller the grass got. Sapphire began to slow down, whinnying softly. He was ‘fraid of snakes.
“Won’t be any this time of year, boy,” I urged him, slapping the reins. We were about to pass a thicket of trees that I’d never been through when I saw something that made me stop. What was that, stuck in the branches? A piece of cloth? I looked in front of me, where we’d been headed, and back at the trees. If only I could know for sure which way she’d gone. Something told me that I needed to decide, quick, and get to her.
My heart hammered in my chest as I urged Sapphire through the trees. He wasn’t a mite happy ‘bout it and neither was I. I couldn’t decide if my eyes had led me astray by playing tricks on me or if I was headed in the right direction. If something happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.
Get a hold o’ yourself, I thought, irritated. Maggie grew up on this farm, she knows this land better’n anyone. She won’t get lost.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling. I remembered the pained look that had etched itself on her face as they argued, a look that would cause someone not to pay attention to where they were goin’, that would make them blind to danger. Almost as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I saw what looked like tracks pressed into the hard ground. Jaguar, if I didn’t miss my guess, but it was mighty hard to call. I could practically smell my own fear, and it wasn’t for myself. If Maggie had come this way, if she hadn’t been paying attention…
I slowed the horse and we went softly, passing more and more tracks. I patted my pocket to be sure my pistol was tucked inside. Never know when it might come in handy.
The further along we went, the more Sapphire began to protest with whinnies and snorts. He stopped dead at one point, but I leaned forward, stroking his mane and talking softly until he continued on. Horses are the smartest animals God ever made, I’ve always believed that. Smarter’n some humans I’ve known. If he thought there was danger ahead, I needed to put a hand on that pistol.
Sure enough, we hadn’t gone much further when every hair on the back of my neck raised and my heart stilled. I heard it before I could see it, the low, deep growling of an animal. It wasn’t that, but the terrified crying I heard that made me urge Sapphire into a gallop. I could make out Maggie’s pale, white face easily against the stark night, but I looked around wildly and still couldn’t make out where the snarling was coming from. Almighty God! I thought, taking in her terror-stricken face.
Just that moment, as though I’d sent it up as a prayer, the clouds shifted and a feeble ray of moonlight shone down. It wasn’t much, but enough for me to see that a large, black panther was stalking my beloved, cutting the distance between it and her. Instinctively, I raised the gun and took aim.
When I saw Maggie trip, every muscle in my body tensed. The cat came in closer and though Maggie leapt to her feet when she saw the cat, the girl I loved stood stock still, her eyes on the creature, staring, as she waited for the inevitable. I pulled the trigger, knowing my aim would be sure, but hoping I wouldn’t be too late.
Though the cat jerked with impact, it was Maggie I saw drop to the ground, her skirts pooling around her in a heap. My heart lodged in my throat at how tiny, how precious and helpless she looked to me. I took aim again, preparing to finish the creature off. When it growled, still moving toward Maggie, I fired again and the jaguar jerked again, falling a scant foot or so away from my beloved.
I raced toward her, dismounting clumsily in my haste. I eyed the animal and saw the blood pouring from its open wounds. Sparing it no more than a glance, I knelt beside Maggie, putting my ear to her chest. For a couple of heart-wrenching seconds, I couldn’t hear anything, but when I reached for her limp wrist, I could feel the pulse fluttering underneath her veins.
Thank God. “Maggie,” I called to her. She had fainted from fear, it looked like, and didn’t stir a mite. “Maggie!” I gently shook her shoulder, staring into her drawn face.
When her eyes fluttered open, she drank me in and murmured, “Clay,” in about the sweetest voice I’d ever heard, her mouth quirking into a small smile.
* * *
The night that Clay had rescued me from the jaguar, he’d said we needed to marry soon and I quickly learned that when he said soon, he meant it. We were back to the house just long enough for him to fill everyone in on what had happened—I caught dire looks from Trent and Wesley both as he told the story—then he’d announced we would marry in two weeks. Though I’d agreed we’d wed soon, to hear a date placed was something of a shock.
I was numb from smiling by the time Clay took his leave, giving me a quick kiss on my swollen lips. Still, when I turned toward my family, I felt daunted by the prospect of such a quick wedding. It must have shown on my face, because Abby walked toward me and grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Libby and I will help you,” she assured me.
I looked toward my normally sour sister-in-law, who surprised me by nodding.
“You’ll see, it won’t be so bad. Why, at least you know what your groom looks like,” Abby smiled. It was the first time she’d ever made mention of how she and Trent had met for the first time on their wedding day—their only previous communication having been exchanging letters as pen pals—and the room erupted with laughter, some of the earlier tension finding its way out.
I’d known that two weeks wasn’t a lot of time, but it still caught me off guard how quickly it came and went. Before I knew it, I was waking up on the day that was to be the day we went to the church. Clay had spoken with the preacher last Sunday and he’d agreed to meet us there.
A soft knock came on my door. “Maggie? You awake?”
“Yes,” I called out, surprised by how thin and reedy my voice sounded. “Come in.”
Libby poked her head inside the door, smiling at me, which was a change that occurred only just recently. “Come on, sleepyhead. We’ve got to get something in your stomach.”
My tummy tightened in knots at the mere mention of food. “Oh, Libby, I don’t think I could eat a bite.”
“Every bride feels that way,” she assured me. “Come on, up you get. Busy day ahead!”
I looked enviously at her bright eyes and soft, shiny hair. To look at her, you’d think she was the bride. Pregnancy agreed with her. If it was possible, she looked even prettier. “Are you coming to the church?”
She grinned at me. “‘Course. You think I’d wanna miss you saying your vows? I have to be sure you aren’t comin’ back.” Her tone was gently teasing and I relaxed. “Now, come on. We better get movin’ or nobody’s getting married today. I wouldn’t want to be you when you have to tell Clay.”
I giggled. “I reckon he’d just drag me out of here.”
“All the way to the church,” she agreed.
&n
bsp; I walked out of the room, still in my nightclothes and found Abby setting the table. I was surprised to see my mama’s fine china on the table, plates laden down with eggs, biscuits, and fried ham. I sniffed the air appreciatively and thought that I might be able to eat a little something after all.
“Mornin’, Maggie!” she called out when she saw me. She stopped what she was doing and walked over to me, folding me into a hug. “You look beautiful.”
I smiled warily. Abby sure did seem in need of eyeglasses every now and again. “Thank you. Everything looks mighty nice.”
“Yes, come eat. It’s a very special day.”
As I sat down and drank fresh milk and ate my breakfast, I listened to Abby and Libby chatter on, teasing me about Clay. I just smiled, not in the mood to say much. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. I could barely eat my food, delicious as it smelled, but at their urging I managed to swallow a piece of ham and a few bites of egg.
As Libby cleaned the table, Abby whisked me away to my parents’ room. What used to be my parents’ room, I remembered with a pang. When I walked inside the room, I expected to see the familiar curtains, the same old quilt, but it really did look like a completely different room. Even I couldn’t deny that she’d done a great job with the place.
“Trent and Wes spent all mornin’ filling the tub,” she giggled.
“They did?”
“Why, yes, of course, you have to have a bath.”
I laughed at her, so matter-of-fact, and allowed her to show me to the tub they’d set up behind the piece of cloth Mama had hung for such occasions. It wasn’t until I was in the tub—the water was still warm—that I wondered if Abigail had someone to make her a special wedding breakfast and help her get ready. I hadn’t thought on it and she’d never said.
I couldn’t help but picture Clay as I scrubbed my body with soap. I was careful to wash every crevice clean until my skin was tinged pink from scrubbing. I let my body slide down in the tub for a moment, closing my eyes and letting the warm water cover my body. In just a short while, I’d no longer be Maggie Swift; I’d become Miz Maggie Callahan. The butterflies in my stomach were a wild mix of excitement and fear. I felt the old doubts resurface, attacking me. What if I couldn’t do this? What if I’d been alone too long to commit to another person? What if I hated being a wife?
But then I thought of Clay. I thought of how strong and solid he was, how in control. He gave off an air of confidence that said he could handle anything, and I believed him. He’d sure been a cool shot when he’d taken care of that jaguar. He would protect me. He would keep me safe. And if the warmth in his eyes was anything to go by, he’d spend the rest of his life loving me.
By the time I climbed out of the tub I felt rested, relaxed, and happy. I’d just started to dry off when Abby threw back the curtain, bright-eyed.
“Oh, good, you’re out. I was thinkin’ you’d have near froze to death if you were still in that water.”
“It was nice, thank you kindly.”
“Think you’re ready to dress?”
“Yes, I suppose it’s time for it. It’s hanging up in my room, I’ll just—”
“Don’t fret, I brought it in here already.”
“That was thoughtful,” I remarked in surprise.
“C’mon, I’ll show you to it.”
“Ah, I reckon I should put my slip and drawers on first.”
“Oh! Yes, of course. You’ll be wantin’ some privacy then.”
I laughed at her. As though it made much difference, seein’ as how she’d already seen all there was. I made quick time in getting my underclothes on and heading in to the bedroom. I saw my dress right away, lying draped over the bed. It was my dress, but it wasn’t. I moved in to inspect it closer, drawing my breath in sharply.
I’d chosen a plain blue muslin dress—the very one that I’d been wearing when I met Clay—but it wasn’t so plain any longer. Delicate lace framed the sleeves and flared at the bodice. Turning it over revealed little pearl buttons that looked mighty familiar.
When I turned to look at Abigail, my eyes were wide and misted with tears that might fall at any second. “What’s this?” I asked in wonder.
“Your dress, silly,” she chided fondly.
“But… this lace… and the buttons… how did you know?”
She smiled gently at me. “Trent remembered where your mama put some things that she’d saved for your wedding day. I asked him to get them out for me, and asked you to show me the dress.”
I shook my head, still bowled over by the generosity of the gesture. “You did,” I recalled. “I never had any idea… Abby, is there anything you’re not good at?”
Her cheeks blushed pink at the compliment. “Don’t be silly. Now, how ‘bout we see how that dress looks?”
Obediently, I let her help me into it, feeling giddy with excitement. Before I’d finished, Libby joined us in the room and sat on the bed, watching as Abby fastened all the little buttons.
“Let’s do something about that hair, Maggie,” Libby suggested.
If I’d been surprised by Abigail’s kindness in working on my dress, Libby’s unexpected contribution shocked me speechless. I remained so as I sat in front of her, letting her hands work on my brown tresses.
Once again, Abby and Libby picked up the conversation and filled the room with their happy banter. “You have such pretty hair,” Libby mused as she worked with it.
“I do?”
“‘Course. Any woman would be proud to have hair like this. Now, have a look.”
Reeling from the compliment from a woman that I’d always been sure hated me down to my spit, I turned to the looking glass. Libby had cleverly plaited my hair and wrapped it around my head, making it look like a crown. Looking at my reflection, I became so overwhelmed by the sweetness of the moment that I began to cry.
“Oh, don’t do that,” Libby said, patting my arm awkwardly. “Your eyes will get all red.”
For some reason, this struck me as remarkably funny and I stood there, laughing and crying all at once.
“What’s so funny?” Libby sounded exasperated, which made me giggle all the harder.
“I’m getting married today,” I replied, and before I knew it, all three of us were laughing together, though I didn’t think a one of us knew exactly why.
For all the time I’d spent dreaming about my wedding day when I was younger, it was over in the blink of an eye. I felt like we’d just gotten there when the preacher asked us to join hands and say our vows after him. Then, after a quick scripture reading, Clay was told to kiss his bride, and just like that, I was a wife.
I was still a bit dazed from the quickness of it all when we turned toward my brothers and sisters-in-law, who were on their feet, beaming at us. Abby was sniffling into her hankie, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear Wesley’s eyes looked a bit wet, too.
Wesley shook Clay’s hand and welcomed him into the family. “We’ll have to have you folks out to the house soon,” Clay remarked.
After a quick round of hugs and promises to visit soon, Clay took me out to his buggy and we were waving goodbye to my family. I leaned out, waving and blowing kisses until I couldn’t see them anymore. When I turned back in my seat, sneaking a glance at Clay, I was struck by how quiet he’d been.
“What are you thinkin’?” I asked softly.
He didn’t reply at first, and I was beginning to think he hadn’t heard me when he said, “I’m thinkin’ of showin’ you your new home. Then we have matters to discuss.”
I was about to ask him what he meant when it hit me, hard enough to nearly knock the wind out of me. He must mean the whipping he’d promised because I’d run off, nearly getting myself killed. Even though he’d told me he would punish me for my foolishness, since he hadn’t yet I’d held onto hope that maybe he’d forgotten. Apparently not.
“Must you?” I asked, pained.
“Maggie, you know I’m never going to say I’m going to do something and not
see it through.”
“I would forgive you if you did,” I remarked, hoping to at least make him smile.
No such luck. With a shake of his head, Clay kept his eyes focused straight ahead as we rode for the farm I would now call home.
* * *
As I was older than my sister Theresa by nine years, there had been once or twice while Pa was away that I’d had to chastise her. As such, I was no stranger to disciplining, and yet, when I unveiled Maggie for her first whipping as a married woman, I wasn’t prepared for how deeply the sight of her milky white cheeks would stir me. It was quite a different thing indeed, to punish a wife.
I could see the fear in her wide, blue eyes and as much as I wanted to fold her in my arms and comfort her, I suspected it would make the job I had to do more difficult. I’d always been a man who believed in following the rules that were set, and enforcing consequences when those rules were broken. Yet, if I were to pull Maggie close, holding her to my chest and inhaling the sweet, luscious scent of her hair, I knew I was like to forget that she’d earned herself a whippin’.
When I saw her turn and look at me over her shoulder, her elbows leaning on the bed and her bottom high in the air, I knew I’d dallied long enough. I wanted to make it a good lesson while not drawing the unpleasantness out any longer than it had to be, so after I reminded her why she was being spanked, I raised the strap and let it fly against her naked backside. I didn’t count the strokes; I’d know when she’d had enough by her body language. Another thing I’d learned from Theresa, though I’d never felt such sympathy for my sister during a well-deserved punishment. I think I must have winced each time the unyielding piece of leather slapped against Maggie’s reddening rear. Her gasps and then cries of pain tore at my heart.
It had to be done, I assured myself, making quick work of finishing her chastisement. By the time I let the strap fall to the floor, her cheeks were wet with tears, her body shaking with sobs. From where I stood, it was easy to see the red stripes that lined her bottom. Sitting would be a delicate business for the next few days. For the first time I could recall, I second-guessed myself. Should I have waited? But no, I’d put it off for nearly two weeks already. There was nothing to be done for it now anyway.
Maggie Meets Her Match Page 8