Caleb joined them. “I’m hungry,” he whined.
Susannah felt a pang of regret when she looked down at her son. He appeared dirty, and she hadn’t fed him a meal since breakfast, instead allowing him to eat sweets whenever he wanted. It was past his week-long restriction of no candy, but Susannah knew she should have provided him with something healthier throughout the day.
She opened the keep and retrieved the potatoes and carrots they’d recently harvested from the garden. “This won’t take long,” she mumbled. Turning her back on the two hungry boys in the kitchen, she peeled the potatoes as quickly as she could. She hated cooking. In fact, she hated chores of every kind, and she’d never quite gotten used to doing them after the cook and maid had quit.
“Caleb, go play in your room,” Adam ordered.
“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” the boy protested. “Why do I have to leave?”
“Because I need to talk to your ma privately. I’ll call you when supper is ready.”
Caleb let out an affronted sigh and trudged to his room looking very unhappy.
He wasn’t nearly as unhappy as Susannah. Her spirits sank lower, knowing Adam had ordered him away to scold her.
They watched Caleb disappear into the bedroom. Adam turned his attention to her once again. “If you were one of my hands, I’d dock your pay. Once is understandable, but twice is unacceptable, and three times is cause for discipline.”
She resumed peeling the potatoes, slicing with force. “Well, good thing I’m not one of your hands,” she retorted snottily.
He let out a low whistle. “Land’s sake, woman. If you want a spanking, there are easier ways of getting one.”
“You’re being unfair! I’m your wife, and you’re not my boss.”
“Only one part of that is true,” he said, a modicum of humor in his voice.
His amusement only made her angrier. She spun to face him. “Look, I’m not used to cooking and housekeeping, all right? I didn’t do any of it growing up because my father had servants. I’m doing my best.”
He studied her and raised an eyebrow slowly. “Are you?” His gaze traveled around the messy room. Unwashed clothes hung over his armchair, Caleb’s blocks were scattered around the fireplace, and she hadn’t refilled the firewood bin with the wood he’d chopped the other day. “This is your best?”
She took in a sharp breath. He had just managed to genuinely hurt her feelings. “I can’t believe you said that. You are so… mean!”
“Honey, I’m not trying to be mean,” he said with a sigh. “Let’s discuss this after supper. I’m hungry and irritable, and I’m afraid I’m about to lose my temper with you, which I don’t want to do.”
“Thank you. How very thoughtful,” she said sarcastically, and turned back around to continue her task. He gave her bottom a smack that was more playful than punishing, and it didn’t hurt a bit through all the layers of skirts, but it made her growl. She looked over her shoulder and glared at his back as he walked away from her to the sitting room. Honestly! She felt angry at having been criticized. He didn’t know how much work it was cooking and cleaning every day, not to mention running after a rambunctious child. So what if she took a nap every once in a while? Why did he have to be so hard on her?
Conversation was absent during the meal. Susannah stewed in her anger and hurt feelings while Adam mopped his plate, appearing like he hadn’t eaten for weeks. Caleb seemed to sense the tension in the air and wisely refrained from jabbering like he normally did during supper.
The food didn’t taste good. She hadn’t bothered to add seasoning because Adam had treated her unfairly and she felt justified in giving him nothing but the minimum. She wouldn’t let him starve, but that was the extent of her benevolence.
After supper, she scrubbed the dishes as Adam sat in the sitting room with Caleb, lending him his whittling knife and supervising him as he made attempts to shape wood into a dog. Normally, this kind of evening would have caused Susannah’s heart to fill with love and contentedness, but on that evening, she felt resentful. They were enjoying themselves, and she was stuck in the kitchen.
When she finished cleaning up and joined them in the sitting room, she plopped down on the rocking chair, feeling tired and upset. That was when Adam told Caleb it was time for bed. She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, hoping that Adam would make no further mention of her work.
“Susannah,” he said when they were alone, “you were telling me about how you’re not used to working and how what I’m seeing is the best you can do.”
She opened her eyes and glared at him. She hated how he made her sound spoiled and weak. “I work hard. You don’t appreciate me.”
“Poppycock. I appreciate you a whole lot. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, so let’s get that straight before we continue this chinwag.”
It was a nice thing for him to say, and some of her hurt feelings drained out of her. “It doesn’t seem like you appreciate me, Adam. You’re too hard on me,” she pouted.
He frowned. “I would agree I’m hard on you. I know I expect a lot from you and everyone else around me.”
“Good. I’m glad you admit it,” she grumped.
“I do not think I’m too hard on you, though. It’s reasonable for me to expect a meal on the table when I get home, is it not? When I get home I’m hungry and want to enjoy supper with my family.”
She huffed, knowing it wasn’t too much for him to ask but not wanting to admit it.
“I also think you need to learn to cook better. There was no seasoning at all in tonight’s supper.”
Her anger returned in spades. She stood to her feet. “I did that on purpose! I’m mad at you. You don’t deserve flavorful food.”
Surprise lit his eyes briefly, followed by a wicked flash of humor. “I see.” Clearing his throat, he stood as well. “That was hardly necessary, darlin’. Even with seasoning, your cooking is awful. You needn’t punish me further.”
She could hardly believe her ears. Her jaw dropped and she stared at him for a moment before she found her voice. “How dare you?”
He burst out laughing and held opened his arms. “Come here, darlin’.”
She shook her head. “You think I want you to hug me after what you just said?”
“Whether you want it or not, I’m telling you to come here,” he said with a hint of sternness under the humor, which compelled Susannah to obey.
Exasperated, she walked forward into his open arms. As soon as she buried her face in his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, she felt better.
“You know I love you, right?” he asked, running his hand over her head and raking his fingers through the hair cascading down her back.
It was the first time he’d said the words, and hearing them caused her to feel warm and happy inside, despite having felt angry not two shakes prior. “I love you too.”
He squeezed her tighter. “How about if I hire someone to help you with the chores for a while? Would you like that?”
She lifted her head so she could look into his eyes. “Really?”
“Of course. I have cowhands to help me. I don’t see why you shouldn’t have someone around to help you. We can afford it.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you, Adam. I would appreciate that.”
“You may choose whoever you like on one condition.”
“What?”
“She has to be a good cook, and she has to be willing to teach you everything she knows.”
Susannah grunted. “You’re insufferable. My cooking isn’t that bad. Caleb likes it.”
His lips twitched. “The poor boy doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll find someone who can teach me all about cooking so that my husband stops saying mean things.”
“Excellent. I’m glad that’s settled.” He bent and kissed her pouting mouth. “One more thing.”
“What?”
“I’m letting it slide th
is time, but if you ever act like a petulant child again when I make an observation or insist that you try harder, I’m going to tan your hide. That clear?”
She gulped and stared into his eyes, which had turned serious and showed he would make good on his threat. “But it hurts my feelings when you criticize me, Adam.”
“If I hurt your feelings, you can tell me that without throwing a fit. You need to be able to accept criticism. It doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate you.”
Susannah didn’t respond, so he continued. “And you have the right to tell me if I’m not doing something up to snuff too.”
“But you do everything perfectly. It’s not fair.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you think so, but I went through a fair share of criticism while learning how to run a ranch. It’s not pleasant, but it’s necessary.”
Susannah wrapped her arms around him and pressed her head against his chest. “Will you say those words again about how you feel?”
He enclosed her body in his arms. “Which words, darlin’? The words about me loving you?”
“Mm hmm.”
“I love you,” he said, then added, “even though you can’t cook a lick.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes as she felt his body shaking in silent laughter against her.
Chapter Ten
Susannah acquired the services of a woman named Martha. A well-known and revered presence in Virginia City, Martha led the women’s quilting conventions and hosted the cake-baking meetings. Susannah hadn’t ever been invited to these events, but the older woman had always been kind to her, which was why Susannah chose to ask her for help. Martha agreed and traveled the two miles to their cabin every other day to assist with the chores. She knew her way around the kitchen, and Susannah learned eagerly, albeit slowly.
“I’m glad you found yourself a husband, dearie,” she mentioned on the first day she came to assist. “Talk in the town has settled down—you know, about you bein’ a loose woman and all.”
Martha’s frank words stung, for they were a painful reminder of her reputation. The closer the time came to when she would send Caleb to school, the more she fretted over it. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if children treated him badly because of her.
Adam never brought up her reputation in conversation, and he always treated her with respect. But Susannah wanted more than that. She wanted him to praise her, to prove to her that he did not think less of her like so many others did. She didn’t spend much time analyzing her need for Adam’s approval, though it did cross her mind that she was trying to heal the hurt her father had caused by shaming her for having relations as an unmarried woman.
Like his father before him, Adam was slow to praise, which was difficult enough for her, but when she noticed that it was only on the days when Martha directly assisted her in cooking that Adam mentioned enjoying the meal, she grew increasingly offended.
At supper one evening, Adam looked weary after twelve hours of driving cattle to greener pastures. He wasn't in the mood to talk, let alone argue, and she knew it would be wise to keep her mouth shut. But when he asked her to pass the salt, her temper flared and she couldn’t resist speaking up.
“You never ask for salt when Martha cooks,” she said, grabbing the shaker and setting it down in front of him with a thud. “Is my cooking not seasoned enough as is for you?”
Adam slowly scattered salt over his roast. Without looking up, he said quietly, “Stop it, Susannah.”
“Stop what?” she said, her voice gaining volume and heat. “Stop noticing that you only compliment Martha’s cooking?”
He set the salt down next to his plate and glanced at Caleb, who was looking down at his plate. “I didn’t know I was doing that,” Adam sighed, turning his tired gaze to her. “I don’t even know which days Martha is here.”
“Well, let me tell you. She’s here on the days you say something nice about supper. And on the days when she’s not here, you ask me to pass the salt.” She dropped her napkin on the table and stood. She stormed to their room and slammed the door behind her, after which she paced the small space, furious with Adam for not appreciating her and furious with herself for not being able to garner a single word of praise from him.
She knew she was being ridiculous, but that didn’t stop hot tears from welling up in her eyes. She tried so hard to please him, and it still wasn’t good enough. The least he could say was thank you, but those words had never passed through his lips.
Susannah plopped on the bed and stared at her hands, feeling sorry for herself for quite some time. As her anger waned, she realized that she had never thanked him either, for all his hard work around the ranch and at the cabin. Just the other day he had replaced a floorboard in Caleb’s room. Though she’d felt thankful, she hadn’t expressed it. She groaned out loud. Why did she always let her temper get the better of her? She needed to apologize. It wasn’t his fault that he liked Martha’s cooking better.
She had just about built up the courage to return to the table to say she was sorry, when Adam entered the room. Before she could say a word, he had grabbed her arm firmly and pulled her to her feet. “I warned you what would happen if you acted like a brat again.”
“I’m sorry, Adam,” she said, dismayed at reading anger all over his face.
“You’re about to be a lot sorrier. I’ve had a long, hard day, and I don’t need my wife giving me grief when I get home.”
He marched her all the way to the barn. She knew he was going to punish her, and she didn’t try to talk her way out of it. She deserved it, and she hoped her acquiescence would make him go easier on her. It was wishful thinking. He didn’t seem of the mind to be the least bit lenient. After he’d lit the lamp and hung it on a nail, he pulled out the bench by the wall and centered it in the barn’s walkway. Pointing at it, he said, “Lay yourself down lengthwise on your stomach. It’s time I dealt with your temper once and for all.”
Her insides clenched with anxiety, and she trembled. Though Adam had taken her over his knee before, this time the punishment promised to be harsh and without the comfort of his body close to hers.
She lay down on the bench awkwardly and with trepidation. The bench was double the width of her body, but her feet dangled off one side, and her head dropped over the other edge.
“Hold on to the legs of the bench,” he instructed, his voice hard as steel.
She wrapped a hand around each of the bench’s legs and squeezed her eyes shut as he bared her bottom for punishment. It felt humiliating. Though they were the only people in the barn, she felt like the horses and milk cows were watching her as entertainment. First, he lifted each skirt and positioned the fabric on her back. With a tug at the ribbon of her drawers, they loosened around her. His hand slid under her belly and lifted her hips up briefly so that he could slide the material down her legs. His touch on her stomach was gentle and reminded her of how he touched her when they made love. A tickle of strange pleasure intermingled with her growing anxiety. Her drawers remained on her legs, just above her knees, which somehow made her feel even more vulnerable and naughty.
The minute that followed was the longest of her life. Cool air wafted over her bare skin, and she could feel her thighs shaking. Adam retrieved a strip of leather used to fasten the stirrup to his saddle. The strap was the length of her forearm after he doubled it.
He dropped the leather over her quivering cheeks, letting the implement of punishment reside there while he spoke. “You’re getting fifteen licks. They’re going to hurt, and you’re not to move from this position until you feel every last one. Do you understand?”
“Oh, Adam, you’re scaring me,” she cried, hating how harsh he sounded. No sign of his love for her could be detected in his voice, and it made her feel miserable.
A lick of fire across her cheeks made her gasp with alarm. It hurt far worse than she ever could have imagined.
“Do you understand?” he repeated with a raised voice.
“Yes!”
>
“If you move from this position, I will repeat the lick. Is that also understood?”
She sniffled. “Yes, sir.”
He crouched down, twined his fingers in her hair, and lifted her head so he could make eye contact. “You’re being punished. You should be a little afraid of punishment because it hurts, but I won’t be cruel.”
“I know,” she sniffled. “I’m sorry, I deserve it.”
“Yes, you do,” he agreed. “If you had told me how you felt instead of throwing a tantrum and storming away, we wouldn’t be here.” He stood to his full height. Without further delay, the punishment proceeded.
By the time the fifth brand of pain had tattooed her bottom, she was begging him to stop. “Please, I can’t take anymore! I will never behave like that again.”
“I hope not,” he said, and snapped the leather across her bottom again. “How do you expect Caleb not to throw tantrums when he sees you doing it?” he asked, his voice stern and reprimanding.
It was a rhetorical question, one that caused her to wail in distress as another lash burned across her skin. Before she could prepare herself for the next, he lashed her again, and she screamed and rolled off the bench, unable to bear it.
“Please no more,” she said, sobbing and clutching her hot cheeks as she knelt next to the bench.
“Get back into position,” he said with a raised voice, harsh in its disapproval. She hated how angry he sounded, hated how much she had disappointed him. Her heart ached as much as her bottom, and she longed for nothing more than for him to be pleased with her.
Slowly she placed herself back on the bench, then looked over her shoulder at him. His handsome face was hard, his jaw set in determination. “I told you not to move. That last lick didn’t count,” he said, and snapped the leather across her skin.
She managed to stay in place but wailed anew. “It hurts so much, I can’t bear it. I really can’t.”
Handling Susannah Page 8