Callie Mae and the Marine

by Stevie MacFarlane

  Fancy hugged her and returned to her chair. Matthew was frozen beside her, staring at Annalise in utter heartbreak. Morgan had slipped his arm around Callie Mae and Mead was patting Marilee’s hand as she sniffed into her hankie. Even Emma was misty eyed as she concentrated on the doily she was crocheting.

  “So, I guess I’m next,” Fancy said, patting her red hair. “My folks were show people. When I was seven they dropped me off in St. Louis with a friend of my mothers and headed north for a three week booking in Chicago. One night, on the way to the theater, there was a carriage accident and they were both killed. Martha couldn’t keep me and that was that. I ended up at the orphanage for the next eleven years, and here I am, ready to take on the world,” she crowed, smiling and giving Annalise a wink.

  “Oh, she has the voice of an angel,” Marilee added reverently. “You should hear her.”

  Fancy rose and walked across the room to a small spinet. “May I?” she asked, indicating the piano.

  “Of course, dear,” Emma replied, setting her work in her lap. “Although I don’t know how well-tuned it is. I haven’t played in a long while.”

  Sitting on the stool, Fancy uncovered the keys and played a few chords. Expecting a rousing tune, they were shocked when she began to sing the hauntingly beautiful song, Oh Shenandoah. Her rich voice lovingly stroked the words, much as her slender fingers did the keys. The room was spellbound as she sang of loss, loneliness, and longing. The emotion in her voice belied her tender years and there was not a person present who doubted that one day she would indeed be in front of an audience much larger than what The Duchess could hold.

  “My dear, that was lovely,” Emma remarked when the last chord hung in the air. “Will you sing another?”

  Fancy smiled and play Greensleeves, once again delighting her audience. The light applause as she stood and covered the keys was heartfelt and genuine.

  Taking advantage of the break in conversation, Morgan rose and pulled Callie Mae up with him. “I think Callie Mae and I will take a stroll and work off some of that delicious supper before it’s time for pie,” he said. “Excuse us, won’t you?”

  “Of course, son,” Emma replied, noting the nervous expression on Callie Mae’s face. “Perhaps the others would like to join you.”

  “Marilee, would you like to take a walk?” Mead asked, extending his arm and ignoring Morgan’s scowl.

  “Thank you, that would be very nice. It’s grown quite close in here. Are you coming Fancy, Annalise?” she asked politely.

  “Sure, sounds like fun,” Fancy replied, rising and taking Matthew’s arm. “Come on Annalise, he’s got two arms,” she giggled.

  “I think I’ll stay here if you don’t mind,” Annalise smiled. “I’d like to learn the pineapple pattern Mrs. Whittaker is working on. You all go on without me.”

  “Suit yourself,” Fancy replied, pulling Matthew toward the door.

  Morgan and Callie Mae were the last ones out and he let them fall behind the others.

  “You must have a guardian angel,” he said smoothly.

  “Why do you say that?” Callie Mae asked sweetly.

  “Because you know I was hoping to get a few minutes alone with you tonight and you know why.”

  “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” she insisted. “If you wanted to get me alone in the moonlight so you could kiss me again, I’m afraid I can’t allow it. My mama told me never to be alone with a young man, lest they try to take advantage of me,” she sighed.

  “I have no intention of kissing you and you know it,” he snapped. “I’m going to tan your hide at the first available opportunity, so let’s be clear about that. After I put you over my knee and turn your pretty little bottom cherry red, perhaps you’ll take my warnings more seriously.”

  “And what warnings are you talking about, Mr. Whittaker?” she asked pleasantly.

  “You know very well what warnings. I’m worried about the safety of you and the girls you’ve brought here. You’ve managed not only to place yourself in a precarious situation, but them as well, and from the sounds of it, they’ve had enough heartache to last them a lifetime.”

  “Well, they’re here now and counting on me to help them get a decent start on a new life. What would you have me do, toss them out on the street and lock my doors?” she demanded, turning to him.

  “Toss them out, no. Lock your doors, yes! Callie Mae, so far you’ve only encountered town folk and the occasionally drifter in the saloon. Soon that will change and change drastically,” he insisted, taking her upper arms in his hands. “You need to listen to me and do something before someone gets hurt.”

  “No, I won’t close my doors, or sell The Duchess, or be ordered about like some silly school girl. I’ve made my choice and I’ll handle the consequences. I don’t recall asking for your help or your opinion,” she shot back angrily. “Who appointed you my boss anyway? You’re not my father, my husband, or my brother. You haven’t even declared your intentions of courting me, and if that’s what you think you’re doing, you’re doing a dreadful job of it. If you want to run things around here, why don’t you run for marshal or something and leave me alone!”

  “Maybe I will run for marshal,” he shouted, losing his temper. “But I won’t leave you alone in any case. I’m still waiting to give you that spanking you so richly deserve for your stubborn, pigheaded attitude. Maybe that will take the blinders off you and make you see reason.”

  “Well, you’ll be waiting a very long time, Mr. Whittaker,” she hissed as she kicked him smartly in the shin. “I have no intention of giving you anything remotely resembling an ‘available opportunity’. As a matter of fact, if you come into my establishment again, it better be as a paying customer, or you’ll be out on your ear,” she promised, giving him another kick and twisting out of his arms.

  Morgan watched her run to catch up with the others, as he bent to rub his leg. He was fuming mad and it was all he could do not to chase after her, throw her over his shoulder, and tote her out to the barn. The little brat should run into the house and kiss his mothers, um… Emma’s… well, she should be damned grateful that he wouldn’t embarrass Emma like that. As far as Callie Mae went, protocol had just fallen by the wayside. He had an itch to feel flesh on flesh, and he intended to see 19th century panties up close and personal. Sooner or later her luck would run out and then she’d be a sorry little girl, he promised himself as he stomped to the house, favoring his left leg. He didn’t care what etiquette said, he was spanking her bare ass and spanking it good.

  That letter from Cara couldn’t come soon enough. He’d have a timeframe to work with and if he had to leave, so be it, but he wasn’t leaving this lifetime without giving Miss Callie Mae Walker something to remember him by.

  Morgan let the screen door snap closed behind him and hobbled to a chair.

  “Where are the others?” Emma asked, watching him closely. “What’s wrong with your leg?”

  “I ran into the toe of a shoe,” Morgan replied, rubbing his shin.

  “Oh, I see,” Emma said, hiding her grin. “Was it attached to any foot in particular?”

  “I’m pretty sure you know exactly whose foot it was, Ma.”

  “Well, Callie Mae has always been a bit feisty, son. Sometimes you have to take the good with the bad,” she advised.

  “At this particular moment, I’m having a hard time recalling the good,” Morgan sighed.

  “Nonsense. Callie Mae’s a lovely young woman and you well know it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so all-fired up about her.”

  “Where is Annalise?” Morgan asked looking around the room.

  “She’s out in the kitchen making coffee; poor girl tries to make herself useful. It’s a sad thing having no family to care for you,” Emma sighed. “I think they all need a bit of mothering.”

  “I can think of a few things Callie Mae needs and that isn’t one of them.”

  “You’re likely right in some respect,” Emma sig
hed rising from her chair. “Just you mind your manners tonight, Morgan Whitaker; I won’t have you frightening the others. Anything that you need to straighten out with Miss Walker can wait. Why don’t you go see where the others are? I’m going to dish up the pie. If we want to get those girls back to town at a respectable hour, we better get a move on.”

  “All right, Ma,” Morgan replied, heading toward the door.

  *

  The group was just coming up from the creek and Morgan stood, watching them. Matthew looked pleased as punch to have both Jane and Fancy hanging on his every word as he escorted them up the slight hill. Marilee and Mead lagged behind, their dark heads close together. When they drew close, Morgan opened the door and Callie Mae sailed by him with a smug expression on her face that had him grinding his teeth.

  An hour later they were on their way back to town. This time Callie Mae chose to ride in the back of the wagon with the girls so Matthew tagged along riding up front with Morgan. After about five miles of one-word answers every time he tried to talk to Morgan, Matthew gave up.

  Chapter Nine

  The streets were quiet when they pulled up in front of The Duchess. All the shops along Main Street had been closed for the day as most folks didn’t hold with conducting business on Sunday. Although she tried to avoid him, Morgan managed to snag Callie Mae from the back of the wagon as soon as the other girls had been helped down and escorted to the door.

  “This isn’t over,” he warned, setting her down.

  “Of course it’s over. It really never began,” Callie Mae snapped, removing his hands from her waist. “From the moment you came home, all you’ve done is scold me, threaten me, and try to boss me around. Maybe Lilly used to put up with that kind of nonsense, but I won’t,” she insisted. “I can’t believe how excited I was when I heard you were back. Now I feel like a silly fool.”

  “Listen to me,” Morgan growled, taking her arms in his hands and giving her a slight shake. “I’m just trying to protect you. I watched enough westerns to know what goes on at the end of these cattle drives.”

  “What in heaven’s name does that mean, watched enough westerns?” she asked, staring up into his eyes. “Morgan, I swear sometimes I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I… never mind. I misspoke,” Morgan replied, cursing himself for his lack of judgment. He’d been so careful, weighing every word, and now he had to go and say something stupid like that.

  “What’s a western and how do you watch one?” she demanded.

  “Forget it; forget I said anything like that. The important thing is your safety, yours and the girls’,” he sighed. “I won’t be able to live with myself if I let anything happen to you.”

  “Right now, the only thing bad that’s happening to me is you,” she hissed, struggling to pull away from him. “I’m doing the best that I know how. I’m trying to carve out a life for myself, Morgan, so I don’t have to be dependent on a man.”

  Morgan released her and ran a hand through his hair. “Couldn’t you have found something a little safer, a little more respectable? Why can’t you be like a normal woman in this century and open something sensible, like a restaurant or a dress shop?”

  “We already have a restaurant and a dress shop in this town, in case you haven’t noticed, and why should I be limited just because I’m a woman? If I have the money to open a business, I should be able to open any kind I want, even a saloon, and nobody should have a word to say about it.”

  “Aw, I’m tired of arguing with you. You’re as stubborn as the day is long and half the time I wonder if you’ve got a lick of sense. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how things turn out once the town starts filling up, but I’m warning you, Callie Mae, if I hear of you doing anything stupid…”

  “The only thing stupid I’ve done is get involved with you, Morgan Whitaker. I had no idea you were such a narrow-minded, opinionated ass.”

  The thin thread holding his temper snapped. Taking a firm grip on Callie Mae’s wrist, he pulled her to the back of the wagon and sat down, yanking her over his lap. Just before he flipped up her skirts, he noticed his brothers watching the scene unfold with interest.

  “Why don’t you two take a nice long walk,” he suggested.

  Matthew and Mead looked at one another and turned walking down Main Street towards the church. Two seconds later, Callie Mae felt her skirt flung over her head as the cool night air touched her drawers.

  “Morgan Whittaker, you let me go this instant or I’ll scream my head off!” Callie Mae cried, kicking her feet frantically as she struggled.

  “Go right ahead,” Morgan replied grimly. “I’m sure the entire town would be interested in seeing you get your comeuppance,” he told her, just as he brought his large hand down sharply. “You’re lucky I don’t bare this pretty bottom and give you what you really deserve,” he continued as he smacked her over and over again.

  “No, you’re lucky I don’t have my gun!” she squealed. “I’d shoot you dead, you son of a bitch.”

  “Now, is that a very ladylike thing to say?” he asked sternly, despite the grin on his face. He was finding this immensely satisfying and he increased his tempo as well as the strength of his slaps. Obviously, she was unrepentant and argumentative, so he must not be doing it right.

  The warmth of her body, squirming across his lap was distracting. He could feel himself swelling beneath her, something that hadn’t happened in a very long time, and he paused.

  “Are you going to let me go?” she demanded.

  “Are you going to listen to reason?” he countered.

  Her answering snort was all the incentive he needed to continue and he did, with much more confidence, covering her entire backside with quick sharp spanks. When she kicked back with her foot and knocked his hat off, he swiftly trapped her legs between his and upped the ante.

  Callie Mae continued to struggle, even though she knew she didn’t have a prayer of getting away. Her bottom was blazing hot, as was her face she was sure. Morgan had always been a no-nonsense sort of man. As a young girl, that had appealed to her. He was strong and dependable, not given to drink, and he certainly was attractive. A girl could do a lot worse than Morgan Whittaker. Now she was seeing a different side of him. While she wanted his attention, this was not what she had in mind. She wanted more of those kisses that made her toes curl and her heart pound, and what she was getting was a spanking of epic proportions. While he may have thought he’d forgotten how, she was here to tell him he was dead wrong.

  Tears began to drip from her chin, and she realized she was crying despite her best efforts not to. She’d been gossiped about and maligned for months by the town she called home, and to top it all off, she was getting spanked like a little girl in front of her own damn business by a man she’d given her heart to years ago. It was too much and the sobs escaped in great gulping rasps as she let herself collapse over his knees.

  Morgan felt her resistance give way, but being it was Callie Mae, he thought he should at least give her a few more crisp smacks to show he meant business. When he felt satisfied, he gently patted her bottom and sat her up next to him on the wagon bed.

  Callie Mae was surprised the straw didn’t burst into flames her bottom was so hot, and she covered her face with her hands.

  “Come on, Callie Mae, we both know you deserved that,” Morgan said softly, slipping his arm around her. “Now we’ll start with a clean slate and decide what to do about this mess you’ve gotten yourself into. I’m sure we can come up with a reasonable solution.”

  Callie Mae shrugged his arm off her shoulders and inched away, her hands still covering her face.

  “Honey,” Morgan sighed, picking her up and setting her on his lap. “It’s alright now, baby. I’m not angry anymore. Let me comfort you,” he said, prying her hands away and pulling her head to his chest. He could feel the heat coming off her butt and was pretty proud of himself.

  “Oh, you’re not angry anymore,” she sighe
d, savoring the feel of his strong chest against her cheek. More tears fell as she realized that this was probably the last time she would feel his arms around her, smell his clean scent, or maybe even speak to him. It was sad and she was heartbroken. How could she have misjudged him for so many years?

  “It’s good you’re not mad anymore, Morgan,” she whispered, “because I’m furious enough for both of us,” she hissed, shoving him back in the wagon and leaping to the ground.

  Morgan sat up quickly and made a grab for her, but Callie Mae was too fast for him. She darted out of reach, cupping her bottom in both of her hands.

  “How dare you spank me? What gives you the right?” she demanded as he hopped off the wagon and approached her much as he would a skittish colt.

  “Now, honey,” he began, “I’m only trying to make you see reason. If you’d just listened to me things would never have gone this far. I’m just trying to protect you.”

  “You stay away from me,” she ordered, backing toward the saloon door. “I don’t need protection, not from you or anybody else. In fact, I never want to see you again, you overgrown baboon.”

  “Callie Mae, you don’t mean that. I’m sorry if I did it wrong and hurt you too badly. Next time I have to take you in hand I’ll…”

  “There won’t be a next time. I mean it, Morgan. I thought I loved you,” she cried, a sob escaping as she scrubbed her face on her sleeve. “I thought you were something special. Now I know that you’re just like all the other men in this town. You think you know everything. You think women are stupid and we should just listen to you!”

  “Of course I don’t think you’re stupid,” Morgan replied, holding out his hand to her. “I admire you. I really do, honey. You’ve done a fine job here,” he said, indicating the building at her back. “I just don’t think you should be running it with a group of inexperienced young women who have no idea how to defend themselves. I understand you wanting your own business, your own income, but this isn’t the right way to go about it.”