Callie Mae and the Marine

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Callie Mae and the Marine Page 6

by Stevie MacFarlane


  Most likely, his younger brother would still be alive and probably his parents. Knowing what he knew now, he would not have married Cara. The challenge she presented and his obstinate nature set things in motion that should never have happened. He saw that now. She wasn’t right for him, had never been what he needed.

  He’d been a natural born leader whether on the ball field or on the field of battle, and he’d led his men to their deaths. That would be the first thing he would change if he could. He would tell his commanding officer to kiss his ass and he’d trust his gut instincts. There would have been no ambush.

  His need to guide and protect would have led him to a different sort of woman. Someone who would allow him to be the man he was born to be. Things in the 21st century had always seemed a little out of balance to him. Women didn’t have much respect for men in general, and he’d witnessed plenty of man-bashing in his life. Troy, one of his best friends, had a wife that delighted in humiliating him in public. Shelly would spend Troy’s money, embarrass and insult him, and laugh with her girlfriends about what a ‘pussy’ he was. When Morgan asked why he put up with it, Troy replied that he didn’t want to damage his career with a divorce. He had a mistress who treated him fairly well and he didn’t want to hurt his children. On the outside they presented as a wealthy, socially promising couple, but inside the walls of their home their lives were in tatters. Morgan wondered how Shelly would fair in 1880 and if given the opportunity, Tory would teach his pretty wife some manners the old-fashioned way.

  Shelly flirted shamelessly with any man over twenty and under sixty who crossed her path, including Morgan. More than once he would have liked to teach her a lesson himself. Unfortunately, blistering the ass of your friend’s wife was not acceptable unless they were into that sort of kink, and there was plenty of that in his time too, if you knew the right people or visited the right clubs.

  There seemed to be simplicity in the life he was part of now. People worked and struggled, but there was a common belief in the way things were done. There were rules and consequences and acceptable behaviors that were expected. The proprieties were observed. Hell, there were even certain guidelines for spanking a misbehaving female, if what Mead told him was correct.

  Neighbors knew each other by name and helped out where and when they could. The community accepted the dictates of society for the benefit of all, well so far that seemed to be the case. All of them except Callie Mae, of course. She was something of a rebel, he thought with a grin, but an appealing one. He hoped she hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew by bringing in the young women from St. Louis. From what he’d witnessed in town, the ladies weren’t particularly pleased with her and he wondered if people actually got tarred and feathered.

  When Cole joined him, Morgan paid close attention to their location as they rode.

  “This is it, Morg. You were standing right over there,” Cole said, pointing to a stand of trees. “What are you lookin’ for anyway? Want me to help you?”

  “No, you better get on back and have your breakfast. I’m sure you’ve got chores to do before church. I’ll find my own way back and see you there. Thanks, Cole, I don’t know why I couldn’t remember exactly where it was.”

  “Probably cause you hit your head. I think I will get back. Missy was just mixin’ up a batch of apple fritters and if I hurry, they might still be warm. I’ll see you later.”

  Morgan climbed down from his horse and waited for the dust in the road to clear before wandering further into the trees. Quickly, he located a small leather pouch and withdrew a metal container. Opening it, he took out one of several round metal discs before closing the tin and returning it to the bag. He then placed the bag in the crotch of the tree, out of sight. Walking back to his mount, he took a wrapped package out of his saddle bag and slid the disc under the covering. Placing the package in a small clearing, he returned to his horse. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself if someone should ride by, so he backed his horse further into the trees and waited.

  It was early and even if Cara got the signal right away, she would have to drive the distance to the facility and get through security. Taking out his pocket watch, he noted the time. It was seven-thirty, and if something didn’t happen soon, he would have to leave and hope no one stumbled upon his missive. When he looked up, the package was gone.

  Smiling, Morgan headed for home. If he hurried he would have just enough time for breakfast and he could almost smell the ham, eggs, and cornbread Emma was sure to be cooking. Making a mental note to pay more attention to Emma’s recipes in case he did have to return to his own time, he sunk his heels into the horse’s side and urged him to pick up the pace.

  Chapter Seven

  The service got much more interesting the moment Callie Mae Walker trooped into the church late, with her ‘girls’ in tow. There was quite a bit of gawking from the gentlemen and an equal amount of disdainful sniffing from the ladies as they raised their noses in the air and quickly looked away. Morgan smiled and shook his head before becoming very engrossed in his hymnal.

  “Miss Walker,” Reverend Simms called from the pulpit. “I see you’ve brought some visitors with you today. Would you care to introduce them to the congregation?” he asked in his deep, booming voice.

  “Why, yes, I would,” Callie Mae replied with a glare as she looked around the room as though challenging someone to say something. Smoothing the skirts of her white dress sprinkled with tiny violet flowers, she tucked a stray hair under her bonnet and motioned the young ladies to their feet.

  “This is Miss Jane Truby, from St. Louis,” she said introducing a pretty young woman who was anything but a ‘plain Jane’. Her blonde hair hung over her shoulder, each ringlet a perfectly plump coil of gold. The blue lace-trimmed bonnet she wore matched her modest dress, and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. Her pink cupids bow lips smiled in a way that said she was highly amused as she nodded her head in greeting and gracefully resumed her seat.

  “This is Miss Annalise Martin,” Callie Mae continued. Annalise was as different from Jane as it was possible to be. She wore a brown broadcloth dress and a serviceable bonnet with her brown hair almost completely unseen. Keeping her eyes downcast she blushed profusely as she sat back down on the pew.

  Morgan had Jane’s number immediately. She was full of life and likely enjoying her newfound freedom. She was also just as likely to be trouble. On the other hand, watching Annalise was almost painful. The girl was either incredibly shy, terrified, or both, and Morgan felt genuinely sorry for her.

  “This is Miss Marilee Muldoon,” Callie Mae said, moving on and giving the girl’s hand a squeeze. “Marilee was studying to be a school teacher before coming from St. Louis and will be taking her final exam for her teaching certificate soon.” Marilee smiled and nodded before taking her seat. A fresh-faced little thing, he thought he sensed a slight softening in the crowd. Her pink dress was modest, as was the bonnet she wore, and her cheeks glowed with good health and humor.

  Watching Callie Mae as she moved to the last girl, Morgan could see her tense.

  “This is Miss Francin… Miss Fancy O’Shea,” Callie Mae continued with a slight eye roll.

  Francine Jones became Fancy O’Shea the moment she stepped off the train. After several hours of arguing, during which Callie Mae tried to get her to reconsider, she gave up, especially after she heard the redhead sing. With her figure and talents, she was headed for the stage or a brothel. Callie Mae couldn’t picture her singing at weddings. When a woman wore a satin dress to church, that spoke for itself. Instead of a bonnet, she wore a lace scarf that she artlessly let slip from her head to reveal her red curls as her green eyes tilted in fake distress. Bending to pick up her scarf, every man who was lucky enough to be looking, and that included most of the ones agile enough to swivel in their seat, got an eyeful of creamy breasts.

  Reverend Simms choked and stuck a finger under his collar.

  “It’s so nice to meet all of you,�
�� Fancy gushed. “I’m the new singer at The Duchess. I hope you’ll all come and see me,” she continued with a pout. She winked at several men as she arranged her skirts and sat.

  “Yes, well, welcome, all of you,” Reverend Simms said before clearing his throat. “Let’s turn to hymn number seventy-eight in our hymnals, ‘Yield Not to Temptation’.”

  Callie Mae sat and scowled at Morgan, who was having difficulty controlling his laughter. His look said, I warned you, as clearly as if he had spoken, and she picked up her book and stuck her nose in the pages, ignoring him.

  *

  Emma Whittaker let her son take her elbow as he escorted her from the church and down the steps. As soon as he released her, she made a beeline for Callie Mae and the girls.

  “Mrs. Whittaker, how are you?” Callie Mae asked as she leaned into the older woman and kissed her cheek. “I’ll bet you’re glad to have Morgan home,” she said, stepping back but keeping hold of Emma’s hand.

  “It’s good to see you, Callie Mae, and I surely am. I think I’m not the only one either,” she teased.

  Callie Mae blushed but didn’t reply as Morgan caught up with his mother.

  “You two just talk a spell,” Emma smiled. “I’ll go introduce myself to your new friends, Callie Mae.”

  Mead and Lilly were headed in their direction and Callie Mae couldn’t fail to notice Lilly tug Mead away as she saw the girls. Melissa and Cole followed along behind Emma, and Callie Mae smiled at them gratefully.

  “Well, are you satisfied with your grand scheme?” Morgan asked, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at her. “Even Lilly is steering clear. Not that I blame her. If she wants the ladies of this town to support her business, she’ll have to watch her step.”

  “Oh, who cares what they think,” Callie Mae snorted, tilting her chin up. “I can do whatever I want, and there’s no one to say different.”

  “Yes, I guess you can, for now. So, are you happy? You’ve got yourself a timid little mouse, a school teacher, a pretty little thing who has no idea this isn’t a big game, and a singer who’s likely to take off with the first man heading for San Francisco with a hundred dollars in his pocket, and you are responsible for them all.”

  “I’m thrilled,” she snapped. “Francine will pack the cowboys in faster than anything I have behind the bar. Marilee is smart and good with figures; she’ll help me with the books. Jane is enough to tempt a saint with her soft spoken charm, and Annalise is happy to stay out of the saloon altogether. She’ll clean and take care of the laundry.”

  “And who will protect them and you?” he demanded. “From what I understand, once the cattle drives start coming in, this town will be crawling with drunken cowboys and thieves. There will be traveling whores who follow the trail, hoping to score big when the money starts flowing.”

  “What do you mean, ‘from what you understand’? You’ve lived here all your life,” she said with a curious expression.

  “Nothing, and you’re missing the point of this conversation. It won’t be long before you’re up to your neck in trouble,” he ground out, recognizing he’d almost made a crucial mistake.

  “I have my little friend here,” Callie Mae replied, tapping her thigh before realizing she hadn’t worn her gun to church. “Well, I will have it. I just don’t have it today.”

  “Jesus, Callie Mae,” he sighed in frustration. Grabbing her arm he pulled her away from the small crowd still visiting in the churchyard.

  “I want you to sell it,” he said, once they were out of hearing distance.

  “What? Sell my gun? Why would I want to do that?”

  “Sell The Duchess. You’re not cut out for it.”

  “I couldn’t sell it even if I wanted to. Everything I have is sunk into that business and most of it’s not my money. Besides, how do you know what I’m cut out for? You ignore me for years, when you’re not scolding or teasing me, while you chase after Lilly. Now, all of a sudden you waltz back into my life and think you can tell me what to do. This is exactly why I don’t want to get married. I have no use for a bossy man,” she hissed, trying to pull her arm away from his grasp.

  “Well that’s a crying shame, honey,” he replied, “because you’ve got one now whether you want one or not.”

  Callie Mae didn’t struggle when he pulled her close and dipped his head. The thought that others might be able to see them never entered her mind. All she felt was the white hot rush of passion pumping through her as he grasped the back of her head with his huge hand and held her in place. His lips took hers in a kiss so consuming her head swam. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she was in total shock. In a million years she never could have imagined the power of that intimate act or the coil of need that sprang to life in her belly. Seconds from passing out, her knees buckled and Morgan relented, keeping her steady as she tried to regain her balance both physically and emotionally.

  It wasn’t until her head was resting on his chest that he spoke.

  “Do you see how it is, Callie Mae?” he whispered.

  “Morgan, I had no idea,” she sighed, praying that her heart would slow before it jumped out of her chest. “Is it always like this, I mean with all men?” she asked.

  “Hell no,” he roared, appalled. Taking his hands off her, he stepped back when he saw several stragglers looking in their direction.

  “Oh, I just wondered if I’d been missing out by being a, you know, good girl?”

  “Look, Callie Mae, I want you to think about selling and I’m not fooling. I don’t want you…”

  “No, I already told you, I’m not selling. I appreciate the lesson, but I’m not buying. I like my freedom and have no intention of giving it up, at least not right now. On the other hand, if there is anything else you want to teach me, let me know.”

  “I’m going to teach you a lesson alright and it’s going to be learned over my knee,” he said taking her arm again and pulling her toward the wagon. “I think the back of this wagon will do just fine.”

  “I thought you didn’t remember how,” she squeaked out in panic as she tried to dig her heels in and halt their forward progress.

  “It’s all coming back to me,” he growled in frustration, looking at her over his shoulder with a slightly evil grin.

  “Morgan, it’s time we were heading home,” Emma called, walking quickly toward them. “If I’m going to have supper ready for company, I need to get busy. Callie Mae, I’ve invited you and the girls for supper. Morgan will be back with the wagon around five o’clock to pick you up if that’s alright with you.”

  “That’s fine, Mrs. Whittaker,” Callie Mae sighed in gratitude. “You’re timing is perfect. We don’t open on Sunday’s and I’m sure the girls will appreciate your hospitality. I know I do,” she said thankfully as Morgan stomped to the wagon.

  “I thought you might,” Emma whispered as she brushed Callie Mae’s cheek with hers. “Better be careful, my dear. Morgan’s changed since he went off to war,” she continued softly.

  “I noticed that,” Callie Mae said with a blush as she walked Emma over to where Morgan was waiting to assist her into the wagon.

  “We’ll finish this conversation later, Callie Mae,” Morgan said softly after getting his mother situated.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she replied almost to herself as she watched them drive away.

  *

  “Stop at Lilly’s and tell Mead that we are having guests for supper tonight. They are still welcome to come for dinner, but it will be a light meal. If they would like to come for supper, we’d love to have them, but make sure you let them know Callie Mae and the girls will be there. I won’t have any rudeness in my home,” Emma said as Morgan pulled the wagon to a stop in front of Lilly’s shop and climbed down from the seat. He returned shortly with a reply.

  “Lilly said to say thank you, but she and Mead would have dinner at the café. She also politely declined the invitation to supper,” he said as he flicked the reins and set the
wagon in motion.

  “I see,” said Emma.

  “Mead, on the other hand, said he would be delighted to come for supper, with or without Lilly. I’m putting my money on Mead,” Morgan said with a grin.

  “Don’t be too sure about that,” Emma warned, smiling. “Our Lilly can be pretty stubborn when she wants to be.”

  “I’m sure that’s true, but I think Mead is more than capable of dealing with any tantrums.”

  “In the same way you were about to?” Emma asked gently.

  Morgan blushed and remained silent.

  “You were about to take Callie Mae over you knee, weren’t you, Morgan?”

  “I guess I was, but I didn’t plan it. She just makes me so mad,” he groaned, taking his hat off and running a hand through is hair. “Is it wrong, Ma? Is it wrong to want to smack some sense into her from the bottom side up?”

  “I guess it depends on the girl and your motives,” Emma replied. “If you’re doing it because you’re bigger and stronger and you want to get your way, then yes, I think it’s wrong. If you’re doing it out of genuine care and affection, then maybe it’s not so wrong if it opens a woman’s ears to what you’re saying.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “When a child won’t listen, sometimes it takes a spanking to get their attention. When a woman won’t or can’t listen, it may help. I’m not saying women should be treated like children, and I don’t think it’s right to enforce your will on another human being, but if it gets Callie Mae’s attention and allows her to hear and feel how serious you are about her, she may come ‘round to your way of thinking. You are serious about her?”

  “I think so, Ma. At least, I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. One minute I want to kiss the breath out of her and the next I want to paddle her butt.”

  “I guess that’s as good a place to start as any,” Emma said nodding. “I’m glad, son,” she continued, patting his hand. “I like Callie Mae, always have. She’s got spunk.”

 

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