That thought quickly faded as his hand connected with her bottom. Hard.
“I am making my woman behave. No woman is treated like a mule. Beatings are not done to my mules or my woman, but you will be spanked — like this!”
He swatted her over and over through her heavy skirts. She would have liked to say that it didn’t hurt, but he had hands the size of dinner plates, the fingers thick and callused. His swats hurt even over her skirts. She didn’t even want to think about how bad it would’ve hurt on the bare. Of course, her bottom was still striped from her switching two days ago, and his hand quickly reignited those old wounds.
“You will learn to listen, obey, and not yell at your husband. I have told you to not raise your voice to me, yes?”
“Yes. Yes!”
“No! You are to answer with ‘Sir.’ ‘Yes, Sir, you have told me to not yell.’ Say it.”
By that point, Daisy was screeching between clenched teeth and gripping his pants in her small fists. “Yes! Yes, Sir, you have told me to not yell. Stop! Stop this now!”
“No. Not stopping while you yell. When you are crying quietly, I will stop.”
“Ow! I can’t! It hurts!”
The man must be touched in the head. How did he expect her to cry quietly when he had her bottom burning and itching all over again? The new sting quickly overtook the background burn from her previous marks, and his unrelenting hand kept slapping with a maddening persistence.
Daisy struggled with a renewed strength and even started slapping his leg to get him to stop. She leaned down, trying to see if she could bite his leg.
Noah stopped spanking her, speaking to her in a low growly voice. “Do not bite me, min kære, unless you want me to bare your bottom right here in front the church that’s going to marry us — and give a show to any of the women watching through their windows already.”
Daisy stilled, looking around, finding the small group of houses she hadn’t noticed at first, the structures tucked just behind the church. She wondered if women were indeed watching her getting spanked, or if he were merely taunting her. She needed him to stop. Defeat threatened to engulf her, and she started to quietly sob.
“And that’s what I was waiting for.” He rubbed her back, helping her to sit up, tucking her against his side. “Min kære, you will learn to not yell, even during a spanking. You will learn to obey my rules. All of them.”
Daisy clung to his coat, her head tucked under his chin. “What does… min kære mean? You’ve called me that a couple times.”
“It’s a Danish term of endearment that means my dear. It’s a common phrase in Denmark.”
She looked up at him, those beautiful blue eyes twinkling as a hint of a smile played on his lips. “I like it,” she whispered. “No one has ever called me theirs, and most certainly never a ‘dear.’”
“Daisy, my dear — min kære — let’s see the preacher and make you mine properly.” He lightly kissed her forehead. “Do you think you can behave for the rest of the day?”
“Yes, Sir.” How could she not behave? Her stinging bottom would be reminder enough to keep herself out of trouble. For the time being.
* * *
He stood on the altar with his new dress shirt and pants, looking better than he’d looked in months, maybe years. And standing before him was his future wife. Even though she still wore a black mourning dress, she looked ravishing. With her sky blue eyes and raven hair, she truly was a stunning woman.
The warning Angus had given him seemed correct, discipline brought out her mild and compliant side. She smiled at him sweetly, holding his hands as the preacher stood with the Bible. The man spoke about commitments, and love, and being one as the church is one with Christ along many other things that Noah couldn’t seem to hear, lost as he was in his own thoughts.
His marriage ceremony wasn’t exactly as he envisioned it over the years. He never thought he’d be marrying a widow dressed in black for his wedding. He always thought his wife would be a virgin — and blonde like him. For many years, he just assumed he’d marry a woman from his little town in Denmark. He never imagined he’d live in America, much less the wide-open emptiness of Nebraska. And he certainly didn’t envision himself having a mail-order bride.
But life has a way of bringing its plan to you whether it matches your plan or not. His life had finally come together. Through hard work and tenacity, he’d finally begun to see the fruits of his labor. The next phase would be putting the same work and effort required to have a happy family — a loving, obedient wife and — hopefully — a passel of blonde and black haired children laughing and playing among distant pastures of horses. Idyllic, yes. But it’s how he envisioned his marriage now, standing at the altar, his gorgeous wife smiling up at him.
After exchanging their vows, both of them swiping tears away, the preacher asked Noah if he had a ring. He pulled the ring out of his pocket and slipped it onto Daisy’s hand. She smiled through teary eyes and whispered to him, “It’s beautiful, Noah. Thank you.” Just those few words made his chest swell, and he fell in love with her at that very moment. So easily pleased and sentimental. She’d been sent to him — and he knew he’d do anything to make this marriage work.
“You may kiss the bride.” Noah forgot that they were to kiss. It felt odd, and yet, seemed so natural to seal the ceremony with a slow, gentle kiss.
Her ruby red lips were soft and lush, and he pulled her close to his chest, languidly tasting her, pushing his tongue into her mouth, her low hum letting him know she enjoyed it as much as he. She tasted like honey, and he ran his hand up the column of her neck, her skin feeling like satin under his callused hands. Her pulse quickened under the touch of his fingers. His cock turned to steel then, and he quickly pulled away, remembering the preacher standing uncomfortably close. Noah blushed, smiling at him. “Sorry about that, preacher.”
“No worries, son. It’s all part of the process. Now, y’all go home and start your lives. And be happy.” He waved his hands, shooing them out the door.
Laughing, Daisy and Noah grabbed each other’s hands, running outside to the waiting buggy.
Chapter 8
It was official. He had become a married man. Her dark hair was in total contrast to his straw colored hair, hers the color of ravens, and in the sunlight, there was a deep blue tint to it. Noah thought she had to be most beautiful woman in Nebraska.
He never anticipated that she’d have so much fire, but a part of him took delight in her spark. Women who were this passionate usually were the same way in bed. He’d curb and corral her wild side, taming, but not breaking her. Just like a horse.
He’d bring her around with love, consistency, understanding — and a very firm hand.
Earlier, when Angus had relayed her antics, he’d been shocked and truthfully, he’d questioned whether marrying this woman would be the right decision. But he’d been raised to believe that things didn’t just happen. They were orchestrated by God. People didn’t enter your life by perchance, it was a perfect piece, a necessary step, in a long-term plan. He needed someone to help run his house, manage the books, and hopefully, become the mother of his future children.
Even Angus felt she had a sweet disposition under all that impulsive, rebellious, and unmannered behavior. Lack of discipline. That’s all those behaviors meant. Once he tamed that wild side, she’d make a good spouse and mother.
He looked over at her, watching her stare quietly at the ring he’d put on her finger. It had belonged to his mother. A simple gold band with a blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds. The midnight blue matched her hair — and both were shimmering in the sunshine on this perfect June day.
“Do you like the ring?”
“It’s… beautiful, Noah. I’ve never seen a ring like this.” She held it up, watching it sparkle.
“It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me when I left Denmark, telling me that it would be for my wife when we married.” He averted his gaze, his eyes tearing up. He missed his
family horribly. Five years was a long time. He still nursed hopes that he could bring them to America some day, and had been saving money for their transport on a ship to New York City. He’d receive five or six letters at a time from his mother. The mail didn’t run often, deliveries constantly backing up.
He’d read and reread those letters, missing his dear mother’s voice. God, how he missed her.
Funny the things you missed when you were separated from those you love. His mother smelled of lavender soap and powder. He loved walking into the kitchen and smelling the fried fish, sausage sizzling in an iron pan, the freshly made rye bread that made his mouth water. The Danish in his community in Nebraska made these foods, but it just wasn’t the same as his moder’s cooking. Someday soon, they’d finally be in America, and he’d have the help of his brothers on his ranch. They’d have their big family dinners with all of them laughing—
“Are you okay, Noah?” her voice startling him out of his daydreaming. She looked over at him, one of her pretty eyebrows raised.
“Yes. I am fine. I miss my parents and family. I miss my mother’s food and laughter.” He wiped at the tears welling in his eyes, shrugging with a hot blush rising on his face. “They would’ve loved to see me getting married today. I will tell them about you in letters. Some day they will move here.”
Daisy rubbed his arms gently. “I know about missing family. I haven’t seen my family since Jesse died. That’s when I moved to Independence, Missouri. I’ll have to write my family too.”
Yes, indeed. She’d make a fine wife. She just needed taming — and reining in.
The rest of the ride back to the ranch was quiet and peaceful. The day was warm and sunny, a beautiful spring day in Chimney Rock. The prairie grass swayed in the breeze and the occasional deer, rabbit, or birds could be seen foraging for food. There’d been no need for conversation — the beauty of nature kept them entertained enough.
As the buggy came over a knoll, his ranch came into view, stretching out across the valley below. The green pastures and contrasting brown wooden fences with his dozens of white, black, brown, or dappled horses dotted the landscape. The scenery filled him momentarily with pride. Every bit of that beautiful land had been earned with lack of sleep, hard work, sweat and tears.
Daisy gasped, swelling that pride just a little further. “Noah, it’s stunning... this is yours?”
He nodded. She wasn’t just saying it, she truly thought it was beautiful. Her mouth gaped open as she took in the scene before her. “I love horses. I haven’t ridden a horse since… I left Boston. I’ve only been riding in a buggy or a wagon. May I ride these horses?”
“Yes, of course. But there are rules.” He narrowed his eyes as he spoke, making sure she saw the seriousness in his face. “You are only allowed to ride if I’m with you. I don’t want you riding alone out here. You’re unfamiliar with the land. And you will only ride the horse I give to you. They’re all good horses, but some are more spirited than others. I am sure you understand that, no?”
“I guess.” She gave him the most adorable pout. “I’ll listen to the rules, I promise. When can we ride? Can we ride right now?”
Noah couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement to try out his horses. “Not right now. First, we need to get your trunk into the house. Then we’ll have a bite to eat. My cook, Millie, cooked us a nice chicken stew. Then I’ll bring you to the barn to see the horses. If you are a good girl, we may ride. If not, then we ride horses tomorrow. Clear?”
“Yes, Sir.” She folded her hands in her lap, seemingly barely able to contain herself. “Wait. Did you say you have a cook?”
“Yes. Millie has been with me for three years, as has Mary. She’s my cleaner. The ranch takes a lot of work and time, and the house began to look messy and unkept. So I hired them to help me with that part of the house. I’ll probably keep them on because they both have family needs and rely on this income.”
She reached out to stroke his arm. “That’s awfully kind of you, Noah. I’ve never had a cook or cleaner in my lifetime. It’ll be a nice change.”
“It doesn’t mean that you won’t be doing household chores. I want you to clean and cook daily. But this way, it helps them — and it helps you too. And they are never to be treated as mere servants; these women are family as far as I’m concerned. You’ll respect them as you would family.”
“Sheesh, okay. You don’t have to get all testy about it. You’re like a rabid dog about them.” This woman was going to be some work. He stared at her in disbelief, he’d already spanked her and now she was pushing him again giving him an angry pout.
“Daisy,” Noah said, dragging her name out in warning. “I mean what I said. I won’t tolerate you treating them other than family.”
“I heard you!” she snapped, twisting on the bench, turning her back to him.
Noah snatched her arm, turning her around to face him once more, moving in close until they were nose-to-nose. “Keep your voice level. You’ve already been spanked, and have one paddling coming for your behavior on the Widow Wagon. Do you need another spanking before that?”
“No, Sir.” She crossed her arms in a pout. Then his words appeared to sink in, and he eyes went wide. “Wait. I’m getting paddled? Why? I was already whipped and switched by Angus.”
Her face paled and her large eyes were swimming with tears. Noah found himself wondering if he should relent — she had been punished after all. But it would be better to let her stew in her juices for a bit. The anticipation would be punishment enough.
“Bad girls get spanked. You did naughty things on the Widow Wagon, yes?”
Her throat worked as she swallowed loudly, dropping her gaze to the floor of the buggy. “Yes, Sir. But—”
“No. No excuses. Bad girls are punished in my house. You will be disciplined after middag.”
Daisy just blinked at him.
“Damn! I forget when I get talking and fall into Danish phrases. Middag is the noon meal. Lunch!”
Chapter 9
Noah showed Daisy all the rooms and did just as Millie had instructed with the stew and biscuits. He filled her bowl with the chicken stew, the scent of which filled every room, lending the house the feel of a warm, cozy home. He watched her reactions closely, and she seemed to be pleased with what she saw. She’d said it was similar in size and style to her house in Boston, which helped alleviate his concern that it wouldn’t be good enough for her.
Daisy ate quickly, stating that the food had been just awful on the Widow Wagon. Trail food evidently left something to be desired, and it looked like the chicken stew hit the spot with his new wife.
Noah leaned back, tilting his chair on two legs, watching Daisy eat, noting the uneasy way she kept clearing her throat, while giving him the occasional furtive glance. Her neck was red, and she kept putting her hand on her belly. She looked to be on the verge of tears. He knew that she had probably worried about many things today. Being newly married and in a new house, as well as the prospect of a spanking and the marriage bed must have made her stomach a little fluttery. He had some nerves of his own to contend with too. None of this mail-order bride stuff was easy for either one of them.
Suddenly she jumped up. “I’ll wash up the dishes.”
“Nuh-uh. Tonight, that’s my job. You have other things to do.” Daisy placed her plate in the sink quietly, looking up at him through her long black lashes, worrying her red lip between her teeth. “That’s right. We have other things to take care of right now. I’d usually bring you out to the barn or woodshed, but the men are working with the horses. We’ll go up to our bedroom instead.”
“But—”
“No. After you. Let’s get this out of the way — you look like you are about to jump out of your own skin.”
He followed her up the stairs and even with the multiple layers of heavy material that made up her skirts, he could tell she had a nice derriere. His cock twitched, hardening at the thought of seeing those round, soft buttocks. He wa
nted to make a show of strength, giving her a lesson in obedience — but he didn’t doubt for a minute that he would enjoy having his hands on her bare bottom.
Daisy stopped at the threshold of their bedroom, staring at the bed.
Noah walked up to her, tilting his head to look closely at her face. “Daisy? You okay?”
“Yes, Sir.” She turned her tear-bright gaze his way. “I just don’t want to… I don’t want to do this.”
It took everything he had to hold onto his resolve. Lessons learned were as difficult for the giver as they were for the receiver. The truth of that hit home with him now more strongly than ever before. “I’m sure you don’t. And I’m betting that Angus didn’t like all your misbehavior, either.” He put a hand onto the small of her back, pushing her gently into the room.
“You have too many clothes on. There’s no way I can make a point with all this material in the way.” He undid the buttons at the back of her dress. Daisy shivered when he undid the buttons at the middle of her back, his fingers brushing lightly against her. “Easy. We’re just going to get this off you.” He used the same tone he did with his horses, deepening his voice, keeping it low, the words measured, leisurely.
When he undid the last button, he pushed the dress off her shoulders watching it glide down her body, falling into a pile at her feet. Without him having to tell her, she stepped out of the mound of cloth, standing in her bare feet, corset and pantaloons.
Noah laughed. “I didn’t even see you take your shoes off.”
“I hate wearing shoes. We had to walk so much with the Widow Wagon, that my feet are still sore. Hope that’s okay.”
“Of course. This is your home. I want you to be comfortable here, and if that means taking your shoes off then that’s what you do.” Noah sat on the bed and crooked his finger at her, beckoning.
Her lip went back between her teeth. He noticed she seemed to do that when she felt apprehensive or worried. He’d have to watch for that. When she drew close enough, he reached out, pulling her to stand between his knees. “As much as Angus doesn’t like bad girls, your husband doesn’t like them either. Especially if she is my bad girl. I know you were punished by Angus, and by the sounds of it, they were thorough punishments.” He held her hands in his, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin.
More Than She Bargained For (The Widow Wagon Book 2) Page 7