A whimper from the bed had him turning back to his houseguest. She was restless and her hand was pulling at the bandage on her head. Hurrying to the bedside, he gently but firmly pulled her hand away. Murmuring quietly, he tried to soothe her. “Easy, sweetheart, you’ll hurt yourself.” He lightly stroked the hair from her forehead, easing and comforting her. After a few minutes, she calmed and drifted back into a deep sleep. Not knowing why he did it, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her sweet-smelling hair.
“She’s under your skin already, isn’t she, son?”
Aaron looked up to see his father standing in the doorway. He saw the gentle smile he directed at Janelle and followed his gaze back to her sleeping form.
“Yeah, there’s something about her.”
“She had a rough night, according to your mother. Her head was hurting something fierce, but she refused the laudanum, saying she needed to be awake when you returned, not ‘gorked out of her mind’, whatever that means.”
Aaron laughed softly. “I can’t translate, Pa. I only understand every third word myself.”
“She’s a pretty little thing. What are you planning to do about her?”
“I don’t know. She’s in a world of hurt, Pa. I’ll explain to everyone after breakfast in the morning. Can you tell Heath and Luke I’ll want them to stick around as well?”
“I’ll do that. Are you going to be staying here for a while?” Nodding his head, he noticed she had kicked off the sheet, and her bare legs were once again showing. He pulled the sheet up yet again and headed out the door, closing it softly behind him. “As long as things are unsettled with Janelle, I’ll be close by.”
“I’ll pray it all works out for her, son.”
“Thanks, Pa. Goodnight.”
“G’night.”
Chapter Three
The driving rain hitting the windshield made visibility practically nil. Putting her hand up to turn the wipers on full, Janelle recoiled in surprise as a wall of water slammed against her car and cascaded over her windshield totally distorting what little view she had of the road. She could barely make out the dim rear lights as the vehicle responsible flew on by without a care.
“Damn truckers think they own the road,” she grumbled irritably at the passing road hog. Her nerves were frazzled, and she thought it best to get out of the left lane. Turning on her blinker and looking over her shoulder, she quickly checked her blind spot.
Suddenly, her steering wheel refused to cooperate, and she felt her tires lose traction with the road—it was hydroplaning. Frantically praying for the wheels to grip the road again, she felt the car spin, sliding faster and skidding out of control. The rapidly approaching guardrail loomed in her passenger side window as she screamed helplessly. Releasing her seat belt, she prepared herself to jump, foolishly looping her arm through the strap of her purse as if it were a life rope. Her hand had just slipped inside the door to pull the latch when the careening car hit the shoulder and lurched out of the skid. But she wasn’t out of the woods yet. The low shoulder shifted her car off balance, and she crashed into the guardrail and flipped into the air. Janelle felt the rain soak her as she was thrown from the vehicle. Screaming in fear, she saw a flash of brightly-colored swirling lights just before she felt a sharp blow to her forehead. The pain was severe, and as the colored lights turned to bright white, she felt an odd floating sensation. This must be what dying feels like, she thought sadly before black silence surrounded her…
Shrill screams pierced her ears, and a cold sweat covered her body as she awoke in a panic. She tried to block out the noise with her hands, but it was relentless. It took several moments for Janelle to realize that the screams were her own. The door slamming open startled her again, and she screeched in alarm. Aaron rushed in holding an oil lamp aloft. The light fell over Janelle’s frightened face and trembling body as he rushed to her side.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Sitting at her bedside, he wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “Was it a nightmare?”
She nodded as the images of the car accident flooded back, and her face crumpled, the tears threatening once more.
“Aw, darlin’, it’s okay.” He pulled her against his chest and stroked her long hair down the length of her back. “Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes that helps.”
She shook her head.
“Alright, you don’t have to.”
“Need any help in here, Aaron?” a new deep voice rumbled through the room. Startled, Janelle threw a quick glance over Aaron’s shoulder and saw a tall man leaning in the doorway. She knew she should be embarrassed to be found sobbing into the chest of a man she barely knew, but she didn’t care. Instead, she buried her face back into Aaron’s neck and hoped the other man would go away.
Aaron, of course, acknowledged the visitor. “It’s under control, Heath.”
“You sure? ‘Cause you’re sitting in bed at 3 am, half-naked, with a sobbing woman in your arms. She has her nightgown wrapped around her waist, is obviously not wearing anything else underneath, and the last time I checked, you didn’t have a wife. I’d say you’ve got your hands full there, little brother.”
The words ‘half-naked’ had Janelle choking on her tears as Aaron quickly pulled the sheet around her. His hand grazing her bare skin as he tucked the linen around her hips made her realize she had been sitting there half-naked and exposed, practically mooning a complete stranger in the doorway. A snicker from that direction had her peeking again. Correction, she was mooning two complete strangers, because to her dismay, a second man had joined the first and was peering in at them with avid curiosity.
“These are my meddlesome older brothers, Janelle. The nosy one in front is my oldest brother, Heath, and the one practically standing on his shoulders is my other brother, Luke. He’ll regret laughing like a ten year old when I deal with him tomorrow.”
That brought another laugh from the direction of the door that was suddenly cut off as a loud ‘oof’ resounded.
“Those were my ribs, big brother,” Luke complained.
“Good, maybe you’ll shut up. Can’t you see the girl’s more than a little upset?”
“Um—yeah, sorry, Aaron. Sorry, miss.”
An awkward time for introductions, Janelle decided it was best to remain silent and let Aaron deal with them both. Besides, she could barely breathe let alone carry on a conversation.
“I’ll explain in the morning after breakfast. For now, I’ve got the situation in hand, and you can go back to bed.”
Janelle turned her face away, uncomfortable with strangers gawking at her, and tried to stop the continuous flow of tears pouring down her face. Janelle knew if she didn’t stop soon, she was going to hyperventilate. Taking a deep gulp of air in an attempt to calm herself, she released an involuntary whimper, which made her sound like a whipped puppy. She was mortified, but the residual terror of the nightmare overrode her embarrassment.
Not caring that she was probably making things worse, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and buried her tear streaked face in his bare neck. They were practically strangers, but that hardly mattered now. He seemed to be the only constant in this bizarre alternate reality, and she clung to him desperately.
Aaron’s hand went to the back of her head and he hushed her, rocking her gently. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. My brothers are heading off to bed now. You’ll meet them in the morning.” She caught a glimpse of his face as he looked daggers at his intruding siblings, jerking his chin silently, indicating he wanted them gone.
She gave them a sidelong glance, noting that his brothers just smiled at his expense, not budging, apparently enjoying the show. Her deliverer came in the form of his mother, who pushed her way easily between the two huge men. “Alright you two, Janelle is not a circus sideshow act for you to gawk at. The poor girl has been through enough today.” She entered, closing the door efficiently in their faces.
She then turned and took in the scene on the bed. “Aaron, I know yo
u care about her, but it’s improper for you to be in here in the middle of the night, let alone half dressed.”
“Please, don’t go,” Janelle whimpered, and her arms tightened reflexively around his neck.
“I’m not leaving, darlin’,” he replied, looking at his mother. He seemed to believe that was more important than propriety right now, and she agreed wholeheartedly. The remnants of her nightmare lingered, and she couldn’t seem to release him, her hands stuck to him like glue. “Ma, just bring me a shirt to put on. I can’t leave her like this.”
“Fine, but I’m staying here. I’ll send your father for a shirt. He’s right behind me.” He glared at her, but she remained undaunted. Janelle wondered if anyone besides his mother could stand firm before that intimidating glare, which she would bet could wear down even the meanest gunslinger.
Unfazed, his mother chided him. “Don’t glower at your mother, young man. Her screams woke the whole house. What do you expect?”
“I’m so… sorry to… be such… tr-trouble.” Her words were practically indiscernible as she struggled for breath.
“Oh, Janelle, I wasn’t fussing about you. We understand you have been through an ordeal.”
“Sweetheart, you’re injured and scared. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Just as he said that, his father walked in with a shirt in his hand.
“Heath said you might need this.”
Henry Jackson was the fifth person to enter her room and see her weeping over a silly nightmare. The parade of Jacksons coming to gape at her was making her feel uncomfortable, even more so when Leticia Jackson rushed around the other side of the bed and climbed up next to them. She knew she meant well, but…
“Sweetie, you’re drenched with sweat. Henry, run and get some fresh sheets and another of my gowns, please. When you get back, I’ll go get something cool for her to drink.”
“Aaron?” With one word, his father deferred the assessment of the situation to Aaron.
“Everything’s under control,” was his answer as his mother started stripping the linens with Janelle still in the bed.
“Ma, give her some space.”
Aaron issued this small rebuke gently. Janelle could see that his mother was a kind woman with a giving heart, but she guessed that the woman could be smothering if given half the chance. Janelle allowed her grip on him to relax a fraction and felt her breath ease.
“Feeling better, sweetheart?” he asked her gently.
Janelle nodded, finally able to take a steady, deep breath and realized that she was actually feeling better. The family interaction around her had been so normal that it eased her. It was funny to think of big, intimidating Marshal Aaron Jackson as someone’s baby brother, and the way sweet Leticia Jackson took her big son to task made him seem more… human? Was that the word? Whatever it was, around his family he didn’t seem nearly as stern and formidable.
Taking a deep breath, she inhaled, and the scent she drew in was all Aaron. He smelled so good, and she sat there, savoring his spicy scent that wrapped all around her, calming her nerves.
“Good girl, take big deep breaths and calm down.”
She let the condescending words roll off her back. Hadn’t his mother ever told him never tell a woman to calm down? Nothing got their back up quicker, but she wasn’t up for a feminist argument at the moment. He’d probably threaten her with a spanking anyway if she called him a male chauvinist pig.
Pulling away, she looked up at him and for the first time noticed his bare chest and massive shoulders. Great heavenly day, he was ripped! He was also tanned and so utterly sexy she about swallowed her tongue. Why did she have such a thing for big men? She’d always been attracted to tall, muscular men, and Aaron Jackson had tall, dark, and handsome down to a tee. Not to mention sexy and strong. He was built like a linebacker, probably outweighing her by over one hundred pounds. She tried to swallow and tamp down her untimely excitement, but her throat was dry from all the crying.
“Better now? Have you caught your breath?” He asked as he brushed at the tears on her cheeks. His touch was gentle, and concern was written clearly on his face. Who was this kind, gentle, caring man? He was very different from the man who held her down on the doctor’s exam table and worse, threatened to spank her. He was an enigma.
“Janelle, I asked you a question.” There it was again. In an instant, he’d gone back to being dominant and commanding. His voice was low and soft, but the tenor was insistent, as he quietly demanded an answer.
“I’m better, but embarrassed that I woke the whole house up with my stupid nightmare.”
He let her go and shrugged on his shirt. She was disappointed when he covered his magnificent shoulders but noticed that he didn’t button it, leaving his chest bare through the open front. She also became conscious of her appearance. Her gown was damp and clingy, her face was wet, and her eyes, which felt puffy and sticky, were also sore and burned from all the tears. Never a pretty crier, she imagined what a fright she must look and started to wipe her face on her damp sleeve.
“May I have a Kleenex, please?” Her voice was raspy and weak.
“A what?”
“A tissue?”
“I’m sorry, honey, but I don’t know what that is.”
Frustrated, she blurted out rudely, “What do you use in this God-forsaken century to blow your nose?” She looked at the handkerchief he produced and grimaced. She’d always thought hankies were disgusting. A horrible thought suddenly occurred to her. “What do you use in the bathroom? You have toilet paper, don’t you?”
“Janelle…”
“And running water? Oh my God, there was a bucket in the jail cell. Do you have a toilet? Or do you use an outhouse or a chamber pot?” Dropping her head in horror, she moaned in dismay. “My God, it’s worse than Little House on the Prairie! I didn’t travel through time; I died and went straight to hell.”
A low noise sounding like a suppressed laugh came from the direction of the doorway. “I don’t know what your girl is talking about, son, but why don’t you show her the bathroom before she gets the vapors. In the meantime, I’ll help your mother change the sheets, and we can all get back to our beds.”
“Good idea. It’s probably better if you see for yourself.” Aaron assisted Janelle to her feet, and as they passed his father, he grabbed the clean nightgown off the pile of clean linens he held in his arms.
“And, young lady,” Mr. Jackson continued. “I’ll be expecting Aaron to have a conversation with you tomorrow about your language while under my roof.”
She looked up at the older man. He was big, although not quite as big as Aaron, who was even taller than his dad was. Mr. Jackson wore the same stern, unyielding expression that his son often did. She gulped, her mouth parched from all her blubbering, and croaked out, “Yes, sir.”
Aaron guided her out with a hand low on her back, and as they turned down the hall he whispered in her ear, “That’s another warning about your language, Janelle. Henry Jackson has a low tolerance for swearing, and I am my father’s son. So mind me when I say cussin’ around either of us will get you a tanning faster than a striped tail jaybird.”
He ushered her into the small bathroom and closed them in. Taking her by the shoulders, he looked into her wide eyes, and although she knew exactly what he and his father had meant, she asked, “A tanning, does that mean what I think it does?”
“Yes, darlin’. I’ve mentioned this before.”
“And the conversation he talked about…”
He nodded, easily reading her anxiety. “It will be between my hand and your bottom, sweetheart, if you don’t get your language under control.”
He saw the tears fill her eyes and pulled her against his chest, holding her close. “Aw, come here, darlin’. Have you never been spanked before?”
Blushing, she shook her head.
“You know, there is really nothing to be scared about. A tender bottom, an apology, you learn your lesson, and then it’s all forgiven.” He c
upped her cheeks in his large hands and tipped her face up to his. “But the easy way to avoid finding out is to speak politely, like a lady should.” Brushing away her tears with his thumbs was a task he’d become adept at since meeting her. His face was so close to hers, and she soon found him lowering his head for a kiss.
Janelle was surprised by his soft lips as they touched hers. This first kiss was light and gentle, a mere brushing of lips that was over much too fast. Looking up at him, she noticed a smile of chagrin on his face. Her lips tingled where theirs had met, as if an electrical current had passed through them as they touched.
“Sorry, I just couldn’t resist.” He gave her chin a small pinch and said, “It’s late. Let me show you about the bathroom.”
In a daze, she only half listened as Aaron gave her the rundown on their ‘modern’ bathroom. It did have a toilet, but Aaron called it a commode with a waste drain. She also noticed an old-fashioned porcelain tub on legs, which Aaron referred to as a ‘newfangled’ model. It had hot and cold running water, an exposed pipe with a crooked head for a shower, and a curtain that ran along an oval track from the ceiling. It was large and deep, and she began to imagine sinking into a nice, warm bubble bath.
He showed her the sink and the mirrored medicine cabinet that had storage for soap and lotion and gave her an extra toothbrush with tooth powder.
Turning back to her, he lifted a thin paper from a packet on the shelf by the commode. “You were asking about this earlier.” He handed it to her and she read the label: ‘Gayett’s Medicated Paper’. She felt his amused eyes on her, patiently waiting until she finally figured it out. “Do I have to explain what that’s for?”
Marshal's Law Page 3