* * *
Abby awoke to the full light of day shining in her face. After some time spent convincing herself to get up, she groaned and scooted to the edge of the bed. Her bare feet sank into the soft rug. She’d left her suitcase with her one change of clothes downstairs, so after the shower she’d fallen into bed totally naked.
She decided that if someone delivered food to her, she could stay in this room for days and be perfectly content. Everything about the room was nice—the look, the temperature, the solitude. Upon walking to the window, she realized the view was wonderful too. The plains of the ranch stretched on for miles, with cattle dotting the brown and green landscape. A dry stream snaked through the west side of the ranch, where oak trees stood tall. She imagined it would be even prettier if water flowed from the stream.
For a moment, she allowed herself to pretend that she was home. Throughout her childhood, she’d often indulged in moments like these, though the moments became less frequent the older she got and the more often she was disappointed. Hope was a dangerous emotion, she’d learned, for when hope was dashed, the disappointment that followed was nearly unbearable.
She remembered the last good home she’d lived in. It was a comfortable, relaxed environment, and she’d lived there with her sister for three years. Their foster mom suffered from diabetes and often forgot to take them to school. But she was nice to them. Abby and Daisy had survived a number of homes starting from when their parents died when Abby was five, and they thought they’d finally found a place they could stay long-term. It was a much poorer ranch than Clay’s, but they’d loved the horses and hadn’t even minded the chores, which were plentiful. Their foster mom had never required them to work more than they were able.
When she died from insulin overdose, the sisters were separated, each going to a different home with foster parents who were less kind. Life wasn’t totally cruel to them because they both ended up attending the same high school. For that, Abby was grateful. The small mercies life afforded her were dangerous, though, for they were fodder for hope that things could get even better.
Abby walked to the bathroom and studied herself in the mirror, which caused her to become self-conscious immediately. She was so plain in comparison to the handsome rancher. She recalled how he had called her pretty and wondered if he had meant it. Probably not. It was clear he felt sorry for her and had likely just said it out of chivalry. If he had no qualms about inflicting corporal punishment, he was certainly old-fashioned enough to observe chivalry. She mused about whether there was a woodshed nearby. She could imagine Clay threatening a trip to the woodshed like they did in the olden days. That thought made her giggle to herself.
Grateful to find toothpaste in the cabinet, she brushed her teeth using her finger, not for the first time in her life. She was well accustomed to making do with what she had. She eyed her heap of dirty clothes on the floor, not wanting to put them back on now that she was clean. It was then that she noticed a soft terrycloth robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. She slipped into it and indulged in another moment of make-believe that she was in her own house, hanging out and wearing her favorite robe. After a few more moments of staring at herself in the mirror, she finally gathered the courage to head downstairs and face Clay.
The scent of bacon reached her when she exited the room, and her mouth involuntarily salivated. She swallowed, feeling shy about seeing the man who had both shown her mercy and spanked her bottom like she was a naughty little girl. She walked down the stairs, following the scent of bacon and then the noise of dishes all the way to the dining room. Clay and his foreman Shane were sitting across from each other on the long table. When they saw her, they both stood to their feet. Yes, definitely chivalrous.
“Abby!” Clay said warmly, like she was a normal guest in his house and not a stranger who’d stolen his horse. “Come sit down and have some breakfast.” He pulled out the chair next to him and held it for her.
She crept around the table and slid in. He scooted the chair forward after she sat down to get her closer to the table. She blushed. That simple action made her feel like she was about five years old and sitting at the table with two adults.
“You remember Shane,” Clay said.
Abby nodded and peeked up at the foreman, who eyed her rather suspiciously. She could hardly blame him. The only thing he knew about her was that she’d stolen his friend’s favorite horse. “Nice to see you again,” Abby said.
“And you as well,” he responded shortly, as he sat down across from her.
“How’d you sleep?” Clay asked. He scooped hash browns onto her plate, then used tongs to give her three pieces of bacon. She noticed that there was a glass of milk next to her place setting, whereas the two men each had a mug of coffee. This added to her general feeling of being a little girl, but strangely she didn’t mind. It jibed with her earlier daydreaming that she was in a nice home where she’d be taken care of.
She didn’t know how to respond to his question about her night’s sleep. The truth was that she couldn’t remember ever sleeping so well. The bed was the most comfortable that she’d ever slept in, and it was pure luxury to have her own bathroom. She didn’t want to say all that, for she knew it would only make her seem like more of a charity case, so she downplayed it. “I slept fine,” she mumbled down at the plate. She picked up her fork and dug into her hash browns.
After a few bites, she could feel Shane observing her. When the foreman caught her eye, he asked, “Where you from?” His voice was guarded, as was his expression.
“All over,” she said shortly. She didn’t want to list off the towns she’d grown up in, since it was a long list and she didn’t imagine it would be interesting to either of them.
“Not very talkative, eh?” Shane said. He gazed at her critically, clearly looking down on her and judging her. Abby ignored him and continued eating.
“No, she’s not very talkative at the moment,” Clay answered for her. “Needs a little food in her and then she’ll perk up a bit.”
Abby rolled her eyes. It embarrassed her that Clay was talking about her as though she was a child whose behavior depended on getting well fed. At the same time, she kind of liked it.
“What did I say about that eye-rolling of yours?” he scolded mildly.
Abby ignored the question. Luckily, he didn’t press the issue, which would have embarrassed her even more. Instead, he changed the subject and spoke to his foreman about matters having to do with the ranch, which allowed Abby to enjoy her food without being required to engage in conversation. Clay told Shane he was planning on training one of the colts starting tomorrow, and he also mentioned the high cost of water.
Abby listened in silence. It dawned on her that she wouldn’t mind always being an observer of business matters, instead of being so responsible all the time.
“Well, I’d better get to the barn,” Shane said, standing. “Should I assume you’ll be absent from the range today?” he asked Clay, and glanced pointedly at Abby.
“Yeah, that’s a good assumption,” Clay drawled. “Abby and I will be working a few things out.”
Shane nodded and then addressed Abby, his voice hard. “I hope you’ll see fit not to take anything else from the ranch while you’re here.”
“Shane,” Clay said, his voice a warning. “You’re out of line. I’ve got it under control.”
The foreman looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he acquiesced and took his leave. Abby glared after him, her temper high even though she knew he had every reason and right to be suspicious of her.
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” Clay said in a consoling voice, after Shane had left. “He’s wary of all strangers.” Without asking whether she wanted it, he served her more bacon, and Abby got a whiff of his clean, masculine scent when he leaned in. He smelled so good, and he was being so nice to her. Like the previous evening, she felt awkward and unsure of how to reciprocate or even how to accept hi
s niceness like a normal person would.
What would he think if she told him that she’d been forced to sit on the floor of the kitchen with the dog if she was late to mealtime? With so many kids in her last terrible home, there were only so many chairs. Whoever was last to supper was ‘shit out of luck,’ as her foster mom would say.
Now here she was having someone fuss over her, making sure she ate and drank her milk. She didn’t know how to accept his generosity, since she simultaneously wanted to receive more of his attention and to shake it off of her like a dog shakes off water.
“Is your full name Abigail?” he asked conversationally. He sat back and took a sip of his coffee.
She nodded. “Yes, Abigail Jones. But no one calls me Abigail.”
“I might,” he mused, “when you’re misbehaving.” His eyes twinkled.
Abby sat up straight and put down her fork. She had to wake herself from this daydream. “Look, Clay. Thanks for not turning me in and letting me sleep here. You’ve been real, real nice to me… for the most part.” She looked away, not able to look into his dancing eyes when she knew he was thinking about the same thing she was: the spanking. She picked up her milk glass and took a sip of the cool, rich liquid. “You don’t need to worry about me stealing anything else of yours. And I’ll be on my way after breakfast.”
“Really,” he stated.
“Yes, really,” she confirmed.
“No, no,” he said, chuckling. “I’ve been ‘really’ nice to you, not ‘real’ nice. What you said was grammatically incorrect.”
She set down her glass and turned her head to glare at him. She found him still regarding her with his twinkling eyes.
“You don’t stop, do you?” she asked.
“Stop what?”
“Being so… I dunno, daddy-like. Uptight.”
He chuckled again, a deep, heartfelt sound that nearly made Abby forget to be annoyed by him correcting her. God, he was sexy when he laughed. Aw, hell. He was sexy all the time. His deep voice and calm demeanor would turn any girl to mush. But what she found very sexy, for reasons she didn’t understand, was how stern and controlling he was. Just the memory of him scolding her and taking her over his knee was causing her belly to flutter and all her girly parts to sing.
“Shane is forever giving me a hard time about being uptight. You two might end up getting along.”
“Doubt it,” she mumbled. She wouldn’t be staying long enough for that, and Shane didn’t seem like someone who changed his mind in a hurry. “He sure doesn’t care for me much.”
“He just doesn’t know you, that’s all.”
“Neither do you, Clay.”
“I know you a little, and I’d like to know you more. That brings me to the talk I wanted to have with you. Now bear with me and don’t say no outright. Think about it a bit. The thing is, you can’t return to living in the bunkhouse—it’s not safe—and there’s plenty of room in this house. I’m hoping you’ll stay here. For a few weeks now I’ve been planning to hire a woman to… you know, do womanly things like cooking and cleaning.”
“How very chauvinistic,” she said, without actually feeling offended. “This isn’t 1950, you know.”
He grunted. “Well, I want you to stay, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling your pride won’t let you stay here unless you have a job. Plus, I think it would be good for you to work and earn things the honest way.”
“What makes you think I don’t have a job already?”
A look of surprise crossed his face, which offended her.
“Do you?” he asked.
“Yes. I work at Dairy Queen, and I have a shift tomorrow.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, I just assumed—”
“You assumed because I was squatting at the bunkhouse that I’m lazy and good for nothing,” she accused.
“No,” he said slowly. “I thought nothing of the sort. What I assumed was that you’re having a hard time because you lack familial support.”
“Well, I have a job. I just can’t afford rent. I have to save my money, okay? That’s why I was trying to live in your old bunkhouse. I watched it for days and no one ever came by. I didn’t think anyone would notice me.”
Clay frowned and leaned back in his chair. “I can see why you wanted a horse for transportation. There’s a gated meadow behind the Dairy Queen where you could have hidden Glaze while you worked.”
“Yeah, everything would’ve worked out perfect, if you hadn’t come along,” she pointed out.
“Perfectly,” he corrected.
She growled, her temper flaring. She picked up the embroidered cloth napkin next to her plate and tossed it in his face. The effect was comical and not at all adequate in conveying her displeasure.
His eyes took on a gleam and he flashed her a grin before returning to the subject. “How much do they pay you at Dairy Queen, Abby?”
“None of your business,” she snapped.
Clay picked up his mug slowly and finished the rest of his coffee. Setting it on the table noiselessly, he said, “I was only trying to determine how much to pay you. I want to offer more than what you’re making now so you’ll be tempted to accept my job offer, but I can see I’ve offended you. It wasn’t my intention. Forgive me?”
She felt instant remorse for being so ill-tempered with him. She was sitting at his table in his house, eating his food, and all she could do was be rude to him? The truth was she was having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that he was asking her to work for him and that, if she agreed, she would get to stay in his beautiful house. Her grip on reality seemed to be fading the longer she talked to him. Surely it was too good to be true.
“I’ve been nothing but trouble to you,” she pointed out. “Why do you want to give me a job?”
“Because I like you,” he said, flashing her another smile.
Her heart fluttered happily, in spite of herself. “But why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, I just do. Why’s that so hard for you to believe? You like me, and I’m not asking for an explanation.”
Abby stirred the hash browns on her plate. “Yeah, but you’re easy to like. Me, on the other hand? I’m kind of a bitch.”
His expression slowly hardened, so much so that she felt a shiver of apprehension. He’d looked the exact same way in the moments before he’d taken her over his knee. Clearing his throat, he said, “I hope you got that word out of your system now. I won’t tolerate you speaking that way about yourself or anyone else while you’re in my house. Is that clear?”
Her breath came out in tiny pants. She looked back and forth between the two dark depths of his eyes. When she didn’t answer immediately, he reached out and cupped her chin with his hand. “Understand?” he asked.
She tried to nod her head. “Yes, sir,” she said meekly.
His eyes remained hard, but he released her chin. “I meant what I said yesterday after I spanked you. I want to reward you like a daddy rewards his good little girl. But I will punish you too when you’re bad, and that right there qualified as being bad in my book.”
A lump grew in Abby’s throat suddenly, and her nose burned. What was it about hearing those words that made her feel so warm inside?
He noticed her emotion, and his gaze softened. “So, what do you say, darlin’? You gonna take me up on my offer?”
She couldn’t stay with him, could she? That would be crazy. They hardly knew each other, and he surely would discover that she didn’t fit into his lifestyle. On the other hand, it was a mighty attractive offer. She’d be getting paid for housekeeping, so she could save for her sister’s tuition and have a nice place to stay at the same time.
“If I stay here, will I sleep in the same room?” she heard herself ask.
“If you want,” he said, leaning back. “Do you like that room?”
“Yes, very much,” she said earnestly, before she could censor her excitement.
He s
miled at her broadly. “Good. It’s settled then. We’ll work out your pay for chores later. Finish your breakfast.”
“Clay…”
“Yes?”
“I think we should discuss this whole daddy spanking business.” She blushed deeply. She didn’t know how to express how she felt about the arrangement because she’d never in a million years thought such an arrangement could exist.
“You feel uncomfortable with me taking on the role of Daddy?” he asked.
“Well… that’s the problem, in a way. I feel like I should be uncomfortable with it, but it’s nice feeling like a little kid without any grownup cares in the world. You’ve made me feel like that all along, and it’s comforting. But it’s… it’s kind of messed up, isn’t it?”
“Messed up how?”
She stared down at her plate. “Um, well. I dunno. We’re both adults, but you’re treating me like a kid.”
He leaned back and scratched the stubble along his jaw. “I suppose some people would think it’s messed up, but where were they when you had a messed-up childhood? Who has the right to judge you for getting what you need now, since you didn’t back then?”
She had to admit, it made sense on some level. “But what do you get out of being all daddy-like to a full-grown woman?”
“I get to feel useful, and I get to spend my time in the company of a delightful young lady. Also, I like bossing people around. Ask anyone.”
She gave him a small, shy smile.
He winked at her and then spoke seriously. “Now, darlin’, if at any time you become unhappy with our arrangement, all you have to do is say the word and it’ll end. I’d like to guide you, but I don’t want to control you, and it’s up to you how long I stay your daddy.”
She nodded. “Okay, that sounds good.”
“Now finish your breakfast.”
“I’m full,” she said.
“You need a little meat on you. Eat a few more bites.”
“Seriously, Clay? You’re going to boss me around about eating?”
Cowboy Daddies_Two Western Romances Page 3