Her Secret Shame

by Christine Sterling

  Misty - Seventeen

  Letting the door close behind her, Misty let out a sigh of relief. Her body was still a ball of nervous energy, her skin vibrating with a buzzing. She touched her lips. They were still swollen from his kisses. Every day, more and more, she was starting to fill with want; a want to be near him with every waking moment.

  She heard a creak coming from the living room. It took her by surprise. It was so late, she hadn’t expected anyone to be up. In fact, she had hoped no one would be. She crossed the foyer into the small landing before the sitting room. She wanted to peek inside, just to see. She suspected that maybe it was her mother entertaining someone.

  There was another creak, and soon a man had appeared before her. He wasn’t like the usual men her mother had around. He was younger than most, possibly as old as her mother, she surmised. He had handsome features, with a chiseled jaw and deep blue eyes. Misty was struck at how familiar he seemed, even though she knew she had never seen this man before. They stopped and stared at each, for only a few moments, before her mother tumbled into the foyer behind him. She had raised herself to whisper something in his ear, but when she noticed Misty, she rolled back on her heels.

  The man seemed to dismiss Misty, as he turned around to her mother. “Rose, I’ll call on you tomorrow,” he said, as he walked beyond Misty to the door. When it shut behind him, her mother gave her a curt look.

  Before she could stop herself, Misty asked “Who was that man?”

  “It is none of your concern. What I am most interested in is why you are out of your bed this late into the night?”

  Misty fumed in frustration. It was true, she had snuck out to see Randy, in their usual spot at the top of the hill to look at the sunset. She had carefully waited until her mother retired for the night before she slipped away. It became apparent she was not careful enough. “It is none of your concern,” she countered, as she threw her mother’s words back at her.

  “You ungrateful child! Sneaking out at all hours of the night, like a whore. If your father could only see you now.”

  Misty felt her blood boiling over. Most days, she could take her mother’s attacks, as they had become more frequent with each passing day. Today, she felt her resolve faltering. “But wouldn’t that make me like you, Mama? Going into the family business.”

  She saw her mother visibly blanch at the idea, only to slowly regain her composure. “You will not talk to me in such a way, child.”

  “I only return what I receive.”

  “I do all this for you, to make sure you have a roof over your head and food on the table! I have made sacrifices for you, more than you will ever imagine. But all you give me in return is sorrow.”

  Misty felt the last of her patience slipping. “I never asked for this life! As I have never asked for you to do those things.” She felt the anger coursing through her veins, heating every part of her body. “I never asked to be a whore’s daughter.”

  Misty stood toe to toe with her mother, so close she could feel her breath on her face. So, what happened next took Misty by such surprise, it was only the pain on her cheek that had made her aware of her mother’s action. She had been slapped, hard. Misty could feel her face reddening as she cupped it. She stared wide-eyed at her mother. “That will teach you not to talk back to me. You are still my child, and while you are under my ward, you will abide by my rules. Now, return to your room, where you are to stay the night, and all nights in the future.

  Misty did not need to be told twice as she ran towards the steps and up to her room, she closed the door loudly. She looked over to her sleeping sister’s frame, as she breathed evenly in slumber on the small bed against the wall, happy the girl didn’t stir. She covered her face, crying into her hands. It was then that she vowed she would never become like her mother.

  Misty felt disoriented, as she felt the hallway walls to find her destination. She was so scared, she was uncontrollably shaking. She tried to hold her hand steady against the wall, though she was failing. She was petrified for what was to come. She kept chanting in her head, repeating a mantra to bring her a little comfort. You’ll get through this. Just think of wonderful thoughts. It would only be a few moments, she surmised. She hoped it would be over as soon as she started. She reminded herself how she was protecting her sister, which strengthened her resolved. That was the most important thing. Her sacrifice would mean something. She tried not to think anymore as she got to her destination.

  Clover had coached her before to enter the room and to be as inconspicuous as possible. She didn’t really know how to seduce someone, as her only experience was with someone she had loved with all her heart. She had thought she would never experience such love again and especially no other intimacy, as she took on the life of a maid. She slowly turned the knob and entered the dark room, closing the door with a small click behind her. The room smelled of flowers, which comforted her in a way. Before she went too far into the room, large arms encircled her waist, gripping her sides. He smelled very masculine, like oak wood, leather and saddle soap. And familiar, he seemed so familiar. His arms were strong as she felt them under her fingertips.

  Something came over her, as she leaned in to touch his lips with hers, tentatively. She had never felt so brazen before, as she opened her lips, coaxing his lips to open as she deepened the kiss. The scent of him overtook her, creating a want she had only experienced in her dreams, late at night when she felt she could allow herself to dream. It was then that she thought of him, the way his smile made her heart sing and how his eyes crinkled with delight. She imagined it was him who was kissing her, because in her head she could finally be together with him, with no other interference. His arms circled around her, as he pushed her back into the wall. She slowly felt for the buttons of his shirt, trying to undo each as she raced against an imaginary clock. She got halfway down his shirt, as her own dress started to slide from her shoulders, before he abruptly pulled away. She stood there, with her swollen lips, mourning the loss of his, until she heard a ragged breath say a word.

  It was so faint, Misty had to strain herself to hear her own name, but she knew that voice, as she could recognize it from anywhere. Her fantasy she played in her head was now about to become a sobering reality.

  Chapter 8

  In his 35 years of life, John had never kissed someone with so much intensity. Of course, he had kissed women before; more frequently prior to becoming the town sheriff. He had been blessed with such good looks, it was never hard to find. And he had a flirty personality that was hard to hide. But never had a kiss just knock him off his feet, send lightning to his core and make him lose all control. He had envisioned the scenario unfolding differently; Misty would enter the room and he would be the one to lecture her on her inappropriate actions, as well as figure out who was behind this. Although he had saved Misty, there was no way he could let the incident go without reporting it to the higher authorities.

  He had made the mistake of keeping the lights out. When Misty came in, he was just going to scare her straight. Hold her and give her a scare before he made her realize it was him. That would teach her not to put her life in danger for such acts.

  Instead he allowed her to creep up and kiss him and before he could stop it, he was kissing her back with such a ferocious appetite. All he wanted to do was take her, so when he pushed her into the door, his thoughts became red with lust. It wasn’t until she started to unbutton his shirt did he realize his actions. Misty didn’t deserve this, no matter how much he, surprisingly, wanted it. He didn’t want her when she was thinking he was someone else. He broke apart from her, keeping her at arm’s length, whispering her name.

  Misty became stone still in his arms, recognizing his voice. John let her go, walking to the candle he should have lit before, to illuminate the room. When the light finally filtered in, he turned to face Misty. It was like he was seeing her for the first time. She was pressed up against the door, her flimsy dress hanging off her shoulder, revealing her pal
e skin. Her red hair was stretched in all different directions, messy from John’s fingertips, and her lips were red from his kisses. John’s breath hitched in his chest. She’s so beautiful. The thought scared him, searing into his soul.

  She looked confused, at first, as if she was trying to get her bearings. Then her face started to contort with anger. “John Henderson, what in the heavens are you doing here.”

  “Were you expecting someone else?” he said, a bit too bitterly for his liking. He couldn’t believe the wave of jealously that was wafting through him, but he knew it was the truth. If she had been there, as a willing participant with a man she didn’t know for payment, he knew it would break his heart. He had to know she wasn’t there purposely.

  She scowled in response. “This isn’t any of your concern,” she said, as she tried to adjust her dress to no avail as it slipped right back off her shoulder.

  “It is of my concern when there is a brothel being run under my nose. How long has this been occurring?” Misty kept mum and turned her head in defiance. “Misty, I asked you a question.”

  She turned back, looking him square in the eye. “And I am choosing not to answer.”

  This infuriated John, as he stalked toward her. “If you don’t tell me what is going on, I will have no choice but to throw you into jail.”

  Misty’s face turned from indignation to bewilderment. “You wouldn’t!” she shouted.

  Now he had her attention; he also knew the threat of jail wouldn’t be as effective as his next suggestion. “It seems that if you don’t answer my questions, I’ll also have to bring in that new maid, the black-haired girl. I’ve heard she might also be involved.”

  The color from Misty’s faced drained as the defiant look faded away. “No, you can’t do that. I’ll do anything.”

  “Then explain to me what is going on,” John asked.

  Before they could continue their conversation, there was a loud knock on the door before it burst open, knocking Misty into John’s compromising arms. “What is going on in here?” asked Mr. Higgins. It looked as if he had been woken up in a rush. “There have been noise complaints,” he said, looking up to John and Misty embracing in the middle of the room. “Sheriff?” he asked, before retreating a short distance, “what are you doing here?”

  He could see the look on Higgin’s face, and judging from his expression, the wheels in his head were already turning. He looked behind him to see Clover Kelly behind him, with the biggest grin on her face. She looked jubilant at their predicament. It was like she had wanted Misty to get caught, and now with the sheriff, it would be even more scandalous.

  John blurted the first thing that came to his mind. “I’m visiting with my wife.”

  Misty couldn’t be any more embarrassed than she already felt. Although John’s arms were warm and comforting, the look on Mr. Higgin’s face was anything but. He saw the way they were embraced, saw her dress falling off her shoulder. She knew that look, had received that look every day for the five years before she left her home as a young woman. That judgmental look every person gave her. She could only describe it as a mix of sympathy and disgust. She hated that look, hated that she would see it on the faces of every person she had crossed paths with in her home town.

  What made it even worse, was seeing Clover behind him, with that smug look on her face. Oh, how she hated that face; she wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off. She should have known she was being set up by her; she had gotten too close to the truth and Clover needed a fall guy. What she probably didn’t expect was that it would be the sheriff who was in that room. Misty tried and failed to think of a plan of action. All she could think about was how sad she was that this was going to reflect poorly on John, whom she cared for deeply. The thought was short but struck a chord deep in her soul.

  She waited for the inevitable, until John spoke up. “I’m visiting my wife,” he said, in his usual serious tone. Both Mr. Higgins and Clover looked at John as if he had grown three heads, while Misty’s own mouth had almost fallen to the ground. If they were married, it was news to her.

  “Married?” said Mr. Higgins, “How could you be married?”

  Misty wondered the same thing, before John answered his question. “We’ve been keeping it a secret. We didn’t want to make a ruckus,” he said, pulling Misty closer to him. Misty could not believe how easy the lies were falling out of the heroic and trustworthy sheriff’s mouth. But since it was coming from him, as she surveyed Mr. Higgins’ and Clover’s faces, they seemed to believe him. “It seems, though, I was not as careful as I thought.”

  Mr. Higgins looked surprisingly pleased. “Sheriff, this is good news. I’m thrilled for you. You shouldn’t keep this a secret.”

  “Thank you,” said John, as he kissed Misty on the cheek.

  She felt her face flush red, as Mr. Higgins continued. “You don’t have to go sneaking around here, though. Why don’t you take your bride home?”

  “But, sir, I can’t just leave here,” Misty started to protest.

  “None of that, Misty,” Mr. Higgins said, cutting her off. “I can’t imagine splitting you up from your new husband.”

  “But my job…”

  “Nonsense! I wouldn’t imagine making you work now that you are a married woman. You and the sheriff should be alone. Maybe even start that family,” he said, with a wink. As the sheriff let her go to shake Mr. Higgins’ hand, she looked over at Clover’s face. The look of anger matched Misty’s own.

  Chapter 9

  Misty had been quiet for a long time, as they sat side by side on the wagon. It was a tension filled silence that didn’t sit well with John. She was silent as she went to pack up what little items she had. She was quiet when he dropped by the sheriff’s office to pick up some last-minute items. And she was still quiet as they made their way back to the farm house.

  John didn’t like it; the Misty he had known would at least give him a talking to about the mess he had put them in. He looked over at her scowling face. Even upset, she was still one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Maybe it was their fake marriage that emboldened, allowing him such thoughts.

  “It’s a bit chilly out tonight,” he said, trying to break the silence between them. “Are you not cold?”

  “I’m fine,” she said curtly.

  “Here, I’ll give you my coat,” he said, as he started to shrug it off.

  “No.” she yelled sternly. “John Henderson, if you as much as motion in my direction with that coat, I will push you off this wagon.”

  John pulled the coat back on. At least she is talking, he thought to himself. “It’s a beautiful night,” he started to say before Misty cut him off.

  “Why did you say we were married,” she asked, still looking ahead.

  “It was the first thought that came into my mind. I had to say something, otherwise they would have thought the worst.”

  “So why did you do it?”

  “To save you,” he said, exasperated by her tone.

  “I never asked you to save me,” she spat back.

  “We still need to discuss why you were there in the first place. If I wasn’t the one that caught you, who knows what would have happened.”

  He thought back to Clover. Something was up with that woman. He knew she was the Miss Kelly the gentleman had been referring to, but with no proof, he couldn’t go forward with such an accusation. She would be a sneaky woman, judging from this stunt.

  “We aren’t even married. What is going to happen when they find out?” Misty said, trying to change the subject.

  John decided to allow her for the moment. “They won’t find out and once we make it official, it won’t matter.”

  “Make it official? You want to go through with this farce?”

  “Yes,” he said, more confidently than he had thought he could say it. But now that he was thinking about it more, it made perfect sense. He was getting to that age where he should be settling down. He hadn’t met a woman that even
made him want to get married, so he thought there wasn’t much of a point.

  He never wanted to just settle, but with Misty, it didn’t feel like he was settling. If anything, it felt like something was starting. He felt heat all around his body in anticipation of what was to come between them. “It’s not like we dislike each other. I think we would be very compatible. In fact, I’ll grab the Pastor and we can take care of it tomorrow.”

  “That isn’t it. Don’t you want to be in love before you get married. You can have anyone. Why settle for me?”

  But for him, it wasn’t settling. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted her to be his wife. Maybe even love? He struck the thought down. They could have a mutual investment in this relationship. “We work. If I am going to marry anyone, I would want it to be you.”

  Misty seemed to bristle at his words, but he didn’t know why. Didn’t he just give her a compliment? He just couldn’t understand women. “Where are we going?” she asked after a few minutes, their conversation before forgotten.

  “Your new home,” he said, as the ranch came into view.

  “You don’t just live at the sheriff’s office?” she asked, her voice etched with the sarcastic glint he had come to know from her. It seemed that their little fight from before might have been smoothed over. They came up on the house, stopping right before the entry way. He quickly stopped the wagon, going around to lift Misty from her seat. However, she was already down from the seat by the time he reached the back. She walked over to the steps, her small bag with her few belongings, looking into the windows. It was then she noticed the light on. “Does someone else live here?” Misty asked, turning around to look at him.

  “Just my sister,” he said, as he scratched his head. It was already late at night; he had only made the journey himself because he knew the way without much direction, as he had made the trip late at night plenty of times. His sister usually retired early so it was strange to think she might still be awake.