“John! This is just—”
“Do it now, Elizabeth Ann — or we’re gonna tangle. And I’m sure your memory hasn’t failed you on what happens if I have to do it for you.” He dipped his chin and gave her a knowing look, hoping she’d listen. He really didn’t want to take this to the next level.
“Ooooo! You make me so angry!” She pulled her skirts up and yanked roughly at the ties, her cheeks flushing, sweat glistening on her brow. He was pretty sure she was trying to make him angry, but instead her adorable fit of pique just aroused him — she looked adorable. He loved her fire.
“Less talking, and more doing. Not following the rules is the quickest way to get in trouble around here. You knew it when you tried breaking the rule. If you’ve decided to sit in the saddle, you better be ready for the ride. Am I right, Lizzie?” She stepped out of her drawers and he reached over to pick them up, placing them on the bench next to him.
“I didn’t sit in the saddle!” She put her hands on her hips. “That girl in the house tattled on me.”
Now, he was growing irritated with her. “First, you’d better get your hands off your hips. Now! Second, you weren’t tattled on — she told us an important part of the story. A part of the story that could have had detrimental effects if you’d opened that door. Third, that’s not a girl in the house. That’s a woman and she acted much more mature than you have today. Now, before you get me more riled than I already am, get your tail over here.”
He pulled her to stand by his right leg. “I want you to pull your skirts up. All of them — not just the back. I want you completely bared to me.”
Her eyes welled with tears. He knew she hated this part, but he also knew that the humiliation is what she remembered long after the marks faded from her bottom. She’d blush at just the mention of “maybe we need to have you stand with your bare bottom on display.” She’d straighten up — and right fast too.
She didn’t fight him, bunching up her skirts and holding them at her sides. He loved the fullness of her hips. She’d been thin and narrow when he’d married her, and he loved her that way. But after four children and thirty years of marriage, her hips had widened and he swore he loved her even more this way. He knew she worried that she wasn’t thin enough, but her hips, ass, and breasts were beautiful — and his.
“Look at this pretty pussy. Let me pet my pussy before we spank that beautiful bottom of yours.” He stroked his finger lightly over the thatch of hair, now tinged with a few gray hairs. He loved that patch of curly hair. On his second pass over her pussy, he pushed his middle finger into the seam of her labia, slipping easily through her juices. “Mmmm. I love this. No playing now. Over my lap, Lizzie.”
“Oh, John!” She slid onto his lap, her pussy over his right thigh. “I’m sorry.”
“I think you’re sorry you got caught. Let’s give you some incentive to be sorry you didn’t listen to your husband.” He squeezed her soft bottom. It wasn’t firm and hard anymore — not like when she was young, anyway. Instead, it was soft, fleshy, and round. He loved her ass. It had been a long time since he’d had that luscious backside upturned over his knee. He’d need to find reasons to paddle her lovely tail more often.
“You will not open the door when we’re gone for the day.” He proceeded to slap her bottom, starting slow, but firm enough to turn the skin pink. His handprints soon bloomed upon her pale, curvy butt. He loved watching the marks grow, deepen. It’d been not just months, but years since her last spanking — and it’d been obvious. She started reaching back almost immediately to cover herself. He snatched her hand, tucking it under his left hand in the small of her back. “Uh-uh, girlie. That hand stays out of the way and you know it.”
“It hurts, John. I’m sorry.”
“Well, now that we know it’s starting to hurt, let’s really get this tannin’ going.” He started at mid-thigh, slapping fast and hard, overlapping until each side was not just pink, but red. There were areas that were darker and would probably be sore in the morning. He paused, rubbing her bottom, letting the heat fade a little until her sobbing became sniffling.
“So what are you going to do in the future, Lizzy?”
She tried pushing up to get off him, but he pressed his elbow in the middle of her back pressing her back down. He wasn’t done yet.
“I’m going to… listen to rules. And I w-won’t open the d-door.”
“Good girl. Now, these last ten are gonna be on the underside of your bottom. Hold still, I’ll make them fast.”
She screeched before he even landed the first swat. He raised his knee, which jackknifed her bottom even higher, giving him better access to her sit spots. He alternated from the left to the right cheek, watching them turn a deep red with patches that were even darker and more inflamed. She’d feel these while mending clothes tomorrow.
He released her wrists and soothed her injured flesh with his other hand. “You’re a good girl. I know you’ll listen from now on. I think I need to start watching you more closely. I may find that we need to spend more time in this barn. I miss spanking this hot little ass.”
“J-John!” She looked over her shoulder at him. “What if someone heard you?”
John couldn’t help but laugh at the mortification on her face. He pulled her skirts down and helped her up, setting her on his knee. They cuddled like that for a long time, then he helped her back to the house, tucking her into bed.
* * *
Daniel and Sophie had taken their walk as he had told his father they would. It was a warm fall evening and strolling around their neighborhood seemed to be the perfect thing to do. She’d gotten so she liked living in a bigger town. There was always something to do, some place to see.
“Do you think your mother will be mad at me? I didn’t mean to tattle on her or be disrespectful. Do you think I’ve been disrespectful to her?”
She watched his face as she asked the question, and he seemed shocked that she’d even asked it.
“No, I don’t think you were disrespectful at all. You told a story and in the process of the story my mother’s disobedience and her disrespect of his rules came to the surface. You kept both yourself and my mother safe. However, knowing that my father is giving her a spankin’ in the barn I have to say is more than a little unsettling.” He did a fake shiver and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.
“I’m glad you aren’t mad. I was worried about it. What do you think this could be about with Mr. Haskins?”
She didn’t want any trouble to arise with his mother. They’d gotten along very well and this could cause a rift.
“I have no clue. You don’t have any idea at all?”
“None.” Sophie shook her head. She looked off into the distance trying to jolt a memory—any memory that would give her a clue as to who Mr. Haskins was or why an attorney would be looking for her. “I’ve been wracking my brain all day. I can’t think of anything that an attorney would be contacting me for.”
Daniel shrugged. “Well, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow morning. We’ll walk over to the hotel bright and early and see if we can find him. Don’t you worry. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Her common sense said she didn’t have to be concerned, but her heart worried all the same. There were parts of her that would always miss Clive. He’d been her first husband and just hearing his name from Mr. Haskins lips had given her a dose of melancholy. She’d felt a longing for what she had missed with him. Clive Andrew Thomas. Such a sophisticated name.
She loved being Mrs. Clive Andrew Thomas — almost as much as she enjoyed being Mrs. Daniel Weston.
Chapter Eleven
The breakfast the next morning had been more interesting and quiet than any other breakfast in Daniel’s memory. His mother’s eyes were puffy, and when she sat down, she did so slowly and gingerly. Seemed his father also liked to end a spankin’ with a last hard flurry across the thighs. She’d be restless and moving around a lot today. Again, he didn’t like watching his mother in this st
ate, knowing that it’d been from a spankin’ in the barn.
“So it seems Sophie and me will be going to town this morning to find out what Mr. Haskins has to tell us. Then I’ll come home to drop Sophie off and update y’all.” He looked from his father to his mother “Is there anything either of you want us to get while we’re there?”
“No, we’re fine, son. Thanks for asking. I’ll stay with your mother until you two get back, then maybe we can walk into town together.” John reached over and squeezed Liz’s hand affectionately.
Daniel couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his parents holding hands. “Yes, I’ll walk with you to town. We’d better get going Sophie.”
“Liz, I’ll stop and pick up the mendin’ for the rest of the week while I have Daniel with me. Do you have anythin’ you want me to drop off?”
“Yes, let me grab what I have for you to bring.” Liz stood up, pausing a moment before stiffly walking toward the stairs. “It’s in my basket in the bedroom.”
Daniel and Sophie exchanged knowing looks.
John stood up quickly. “It’s okay, Lizzy. Let me go get your basket. Wait here, Daniel. I’ll be right back with it.”
Finally, basket in hand, Sophie and Daniel made their way to town to drop off the mending — and to see the attorney.
* * *
Daniel, Sophie’s hand in his, they walked up the steps to the local hotel in Topeka that Mr. Robert Haskins was staying. Sam, the hotel manager, wasn’t behind the counter. Daniel look around the room for him, not seeing him he rang the bell on the counter.
Hearing the bell ring, Sam came from a back hallway walking quickly to the counter. “Well, hey Daniel. What can we do for you?” He nodded at Sophie. “Howdy, Ma’am. How are you today?”
“I’m doing well, Mr. Granger.” Sophie dipped her head and glanced at Daniel. She didn’t want to look too forward in talking to Sam. She couldn’t tell by Daniel’s facial expression how he felt about the man.
“Sam, we’re looking for a Mr. Robert Haskins. He came a callin’ to our house yesterday and said he needed to talk to my wife. Do you know where we can find him?”
Sam looked out the window, pointing at the white building across the street. “He went that way. Said he was getting some breakfast. You can either meet with him there or wait here fer him to come back.”
“I think we’ll meet him there, then I can have some coffee and some of Mabel’s peach pie.” Daniel turned, grabbing Sophie’s hand and walking her outside across the street to Mabel’s. They waited for a couple wagons to go by before crossing the street to Mabel’s. Sophie couldn’t help but wonder if any of the wagons were Widow Wagons.
It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it’d only been five months.
They walked up the five steps from the dusty road to Mabel’s, and once inside Daniel spotted Mabel. “Howdy, Mabel. We’ve been told that a Mr. Robert Haskins, an attorney new to town and staying at the hotel is here eating his breakfast. Do you know if that’s so?”
Mabel looked to be about forty-five, reddish hair with a hint of gray. She gave Daniel a big smile. “Hey, Daniel. Yep, there he is right over there by the window. He’s eating some of your favorite pie.” Daniel looked over at Robert. He wore a brown suit and had a matching hat on the seat next to him. He appeared to be about forty years old and by the stop watch and cuff links, this was a successful lawyer. He looked up with a warm, friendly smile and motioned them to his table. “Would you like me to bring you some of my peach pie for you and the missus?”
“Yes, Ma’am, that’d be great. I was just sayin’ to Sam that I was comin’ here hopin’ to get some of your pie. And two coffees would be great.”
“Go on over and say hello then,” Mabel said, tipping her head toward Haskins as she hurried off to get their coffee and pie.
“Mr. Robert Haskins? I’m Daniel Weston and this is my wife, Sophie Weston.” Daniel extended a hand. “Formerly known as Mrs. Clive Andrew Thomas.”
Mr. Haskins quickly stood and shook both their hands, pointing to the other seats at the table.
“It’s nice to meet y’all. Please have a seat. Let me get the serving girl to get you some coffee. Do you want something to eat?”
“No, that’s not necessary.” Daniel nodded to Robert’s own plate of peach pie. “I saw Mabel on our way in, and I placed our order for coffee and peach pie.”
“This is some of the best peach pie I’ve ever had. That woman sure can make a mean pie.”
“That she can.” Daniel leaned back, playing with his hat in his hand. “What brings you round to look for my wife? I’m assuming you’ve come a long way to find her. It must be something kinda important.”
“It is.” Haskins took one more bite of his pie and put his napkin down on the table, turning to face Sophie. “Now, I have to ask this for legal reasons. A formality. You were Sophie Thomas?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You were married to Clive Andrew Thomas?”
“Yes, Sir.” She looked at Daniel. “But now I’m married to Daniel Weston.””Yes, Ma’am. I’m aware. I just have to verify who you are. Now, tell me the date of his death.”
“May 14, 1865.” Her throat tightened just a little as she spoke the words.
“Okay, it seems that you must be Sophie Thomas Weston. Ma’am, did you ever meet Clive’s parents?” He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip of the coffee.
“Well, his mother had died before I met him. His father was at our wedding. But other than that, I haven’t seen him. Why? Is he ill?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but Clive’s father David died about two months ago. That’s why I was sent to find you.”
Sophie gasped. “Oh, no. Even though I didn’t know him, Clive loved him. Said he’d been a good man.”
“As you know, Ma’am, Clive had two siblings. Alma had died as a young child from influenza and Henry died of consumption last year, leaving Clive as the only child of David Thomas. Now, as his only child he would have inherited the money that David left for him, but since he has died, his wife is the next in line. That’d be you, Ma’am.”
Sophie turned to Daniel, who seemed as shocked as she had been by the news.
“Mr. Haskins, what does this mean?” Daniel leaned forward and reached for Sophie’s hand, squeezing it. “How much money is there?”
Well, Mr. and Mrs. Weston — there is an inheritance of three thousand dollars.”
“Wait... what?”
Sophie couldn’t even speak. She started to cry, searching for a handkerchief in her reticule.
Daniel gently rubbed circles on Sophie’s back. “Robert, can you say that amount again, please? We must not of heard you right.”
“I know it’s hard to fathom. But you are inheriting, Ma’am. Three thousand dollars. I have a check with me right now and we can deposit it into a bank account for you. Do you have a bank account?”
“Yes, Sir,” Daniel said. “She has an account. We’ll walk with you to the bank.”
Sophie felt like she’d been caught in quicksand. As they walked, she moved slowly, the world seeming to have crawled almost to a stop.
Their troubles were over. They could get a cabin and buy land. Daniel could have a farm again. Or they could buy a house in town and he could continue to be the local sheriff. She could stay home and do mending or maybe just take care of their children. She hadn’t told Daniel yet, but she’d figured out that she was pregnant.
There’d be a baby in the Spring. A baby! They were both going to finally have a child in their lives.
Chapter Twelve
When they got home, John and Liz were waiting in the parlor.
“We was beginning to think we’d have to get a search party goin’. What took so darn long?” John stood up as Daniel and Sophie entered the room. Sophie felt worn out, and a little nauseous. She walked over to the most comfortable chair in the room and sat, leaning her head back and closing her eyes, willing her upset stomach to settle.
“D
ad, you aren’t goin’ to believe this. Sophie’s husband — Clive’s father — died, and he apparently had some money in the bank. Well, the long and short of it all is… Sophie has inherited some money, and it looks like we’re gonna be neighbors.
“You aren’t goin’ to buy more land and get a farm? I thought you were so heartbroken about the farm.” His mother seemed confused and concerned, looking from Daniel to Sophie as if she didn’t know whom to comfort first.
“I did, Ma, but since getting my job in town, we’ve decided we like livin’ out here. We like the busy life of town. We like having the day end and start on a regular schedule and not having to worry about the weather all the time. We can still have land and horses — or whatever we want — right near town.
“Sophie, honey are you okay with all of this? Do you need to lie down? Are you upset by all of the comings and goings today?” Liz got up to fix her a cordial and put Sophie’s feet up on a stool.
“Wait, why are you fussing over her like this? Is there something going on here?” Daniel walked over just as his mother was throwing a blanket over Sophie. “What’s going on? I want someone to talk to me right now, or I’m getting a wooden spoon! Is she sick? Sophie tell me you’re okay.”
“Oh, Daniel, darlin’. I’m fine. I’m not sick — I promise. It’s just.” She turned to look at Liz, who nodded. “I’m pregnant. I haven’t had it confirmed with the doctor yet, but I don’t have to. I know I’m pregnant. I’ll be due in May or June. We’re going to have a Spring baby, Daniel. Our own baby born out of our second chance. We’ve been given a second chance at happiness. We’ll get a new home and start our new lives right here, surrounded by family.”
The Widow Wagon: Second Chances Page 11