by Reece Butler
“Do ye want some tea? It’s Smithy I came to see, and that’s no place for a woman.”
“Tea would be lovely. Perhaps I could visit Miss Lily.”
“Ye’ll not!”
Gillis glared down at her, all fierce with his bright blue eyes and red bristles. She held back a smile at his shock and horror. Perhaps Ross hadn’t mentioned their visit.
“You’re right. I expect the ladies are still sleeping. Were you thinking of leaving me in the hotel dining room while you chat?” She blinked her eyes at him. He narrowed his back as if seeing her for the first time and not being pleased at it.
“Nae,” he said slowly. “I shall leave you with Sophie McLeod. She’ll keep an eye on ye.” He bent his head toward her and held up a furry, red finger. “Whilst Ross is away, ye are under my care, and ye will do what I tell ye.”
“I’ll obey you as I obey my husband.”
He harrumphed and slapped the traces to make the horses turn back to town. They’d gone east as far as possible to hide Daniel, pretending she couldn’t bear to see Ross leave her. She held onto the seat with both hands as they rattled over the ruts. She settled her skirts around her when they faced town.
After weeks of going without, she wore a chemise, corset, white-on-white embroidered corset cover, drawers, three petticoats with wide lace frills, and a bustle. She would have gone without the last, but her sheer white dress with sprays of blue flowers would not fit without it. Even with the petticoats, she’d had to shorten the dress four inches so it wouldn’t drag in the dust. Of course, if it had been a damp day, she would not have worn such a thing.
Ross had refused to tie her corset tight, so she’d had to ask Nevin. He also made comments about the lack of practicality but had done as she asked. Both said they wanted to see her in the sheer dress, without undergarments, on their return. Their final kisses had left her in a near-faint as she couldn’t breathe deeply enough due to the corset.
All that mattered was that she looked beautiful as she said goodbye to her men, and that was worth all the trouble.
Gillis, of course, had never noticed her whatever she wore. Perhaps he was so grouchy because he was forced to be near her today. Surely, she didn’t remind him too much of Prudence. She favored her mother’s side while Prue took after their father with his deep brown eyes.
“There’s the smithy,” said Gillis, pointing to the first building on his left. “Ye’ll stay with Sophie until I come for ye. Understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” she replied.
So far, she’d promised him nothing. For all she knew, he’d be hours before returning, and she had her own needs. She wanted a sheathed knife from Patsy Tanner without the men learning about it. When she lifted the lid on the trunk to get this dress, she got an idea how to pay for things herself. Unfortunately, the mercantile was across the street from the hotel, but she’d have to chance Gillis seeing her.
She had to talk to Patsy today. Alone. To spite the inheriting cousin, she brought all manner of fabric and dresses from the attics in her father’s home. She’d never wear them, but Patsy would know if they had value here.
She braced herself to get down as Gillis pulled up in front of the hotel. He turned to her and placed his paw on her arm as she was about to stand.
“Nae so fast, lassie.”
She felt the warmth of his hand through the sheer fabric. She looked down. He snatched his hand away.
“Look at me, Amelia MacDougal.”
She’d not heard him speak in so determined a manner before. She saw no sign of the grieving widower or playful father. Shrewd, blue eyes speared her.
“Ye will promise to stay with Sophie until I come for ye, or I’ll take this wagon straight home.”
“But I want to talk with Patsy Tanner at the mercantile. Women’s things.”
His face reddened, but he looked even more determined.
“I was married long enough to learn a few things about wives. Prue didn’t think she had to mind me. She learned to obey or not sit down for a few days. Ye’ll get the same by my hand.”
Amelia cursed the corset that made her pant. In anger, of course.
“I think not!”
He leaned closer until his forehead almost touched her bonnet. “Did Ross not tell ye I’m The MacDougal, yer Clan Chief? Ye will do what I say, or I’ll put ye over me knee.”
“You’ll not raise a hand to me!”
Gillis sat up. A new light was in his eye, one she wasn’t sure she liked.
“Are ye wearing drawers under that dress, Mrs. MacDougal?” He said it loud, as if he wanted the whole town to hear.
“Of course!”
“Guid. I willnae have to wait until home to spank ye. I’ll lay ye acrost me lap right here, flip up that fancy dress, and show ye who’s in charge.”
“Do it, Gillis,” shouted a male voice from the crowd.
“Show us her drawers!”
Amelia glared up at Gillis. “Ross has never, ever treated me this way.”
“He’s not spanked ye?” Gillis touched his chest and leaned back in mock surprise. “’Tis clear the man needs an education on bein’ a husband.”
Amelia burned from her toes to her bonnet. It wasn’t just the public humiliation, it was the thought of spanking. The book showed a naked woman lying across a man’s lap. His hand was raised above her bottom. The second picture had the same hand between her legs, pleasuring her.
Gillis looked thoughtful as he watched her hot face. His eyes traced to her throat. She swallowed. He stopped for a moment at her breasts before dropping to her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. When he looked up again, he nodded in satisfaction.
“Where will ye be, Amelia MacDougal, whilst I’m away from ye?”
“With Mrs. McLeod.” She ground out the reply through clenched jaw.
“Too bad, lads,” called Gillis while watching her. “The wee wife will be obeying me this morning.”
“We will discuss this later, Mr. MacDougal,” she said quietly.
“That we will,” he replied. Gillis held out his right palm and looked at it. He brushed it, as if to remove a bit of dust. He slapped his left hand against it lightly, twice. “That we will.”
* * * *
“I don’t know what my sister saw in the man!”
Sophie McLeod, teacup in hand, watched Amelia pace across her private parlor.
“This morning is the first time I’ve seen Gillis looking like himself since Hope was born,” said Sophie. “When he returned from his trip East with a laughing bride on his arm, we were so pleased.”
Amelia turned to Sophie.
“He was always so sober, worried that he had to do everything to keep the MD going strong. But Prudence made him laugh. He’d bluster and fuss, and she’d poke him in the belly and bat her eyes at him. Prue was good for him, but she wasn’t strong enough to survive out here.” Sophie smiled sadly. “You’re tougher, more resilient. You’d have to be, putting up with Ross as a husband.”
“He’s a good man, far better than anyone here thinks!”
“You don’t have to convince me. I came here a very young bride to an older man. After Amos died, I fought to keep this hotel. Many wanted to take me, and the business. I fought back, but I had help. The Elliotts and MacDougals are good friends.” She smiled widely and motioned to the Queen Anne lady’s chair beside her. “Do have a seat. You make me tired with your pacing, and that chair is designed for a bustle.”
Amelia nodded her thanks and sank down on the ruby brocade.
“I apologize for my outburst. We’ve barely met, and I rush in here complaining. It’s not that I don’t want to visit with you, it’s—”
“You don’t want to be ordered to do something by a man. Especially one who’s not your husband.” She poured tea into a delicate flowered cup. “Lemon and sugar?”
Amelia nodded and gracefully accepted the cup. She took a sip and smiled. Sophie watched her place the saucer on a side table.
“I do hope you’re sleeping with Nevin as well as Ross. No wonder you had a tiff at Gillis. Going without for a week or more will be difficult, won’t it?”
“Pardon me?”
“If you could see your expression!” Sophie laughed. Amelia’s lip twitched, then she laughed as well. After a moment, Sophie sighed. “You needed that poke, didn’t you?”
She motioned for Amelia to have more tea.
“I think Beth considers me a good friend. I hope one day you will as well. There are few intelligent women in these parts, so we have to stick together.” Sophie leaned back. She rested her heels on a hassock. “It feels wonderful to get off my feet during the day. My next husband will be wonderful at foot massage.” She gave Amelia a knowing wink. “As well as massaging other parts. How do you like married life so far?”
“I’m not sure if I have anything to compare it to. I lived alone with my father since Prue left and I was injured. I expected to care for Father until he died then live there until I did as well, doing good deeds.”
“You didn’t want to marry?”
“No man wanted a scarred woman. At least, no man who could enhance my father’s business,” she added.
“I heard you enjoying your first night with Ross.” A playful smile twitched her lips at Amelia’s wince. “The looks on their faces when you and Ross finally came downstairs for dinner kept me laughing for a week!”
“I don’t remember seeing anything. I was so embarrassed.”
Sophie sipped her tea for a moment. She set down the cup and sat up.
“Gillis was right in telling you not to walk around town alone.” She held up a hand at Amelia’s immediate protest. “Yes, other women don’t have that rule. But you are a pretty white woman married to what many consider to be a worthless savage. I think of those boys as better than three-quarters of the men in this town, but I don’t walk around with a hard-on, a gun, and a grudge. You are in danger.”
Amelia set her saucer down, the empty cup rattling from her trembling fingers. She folded them together. All color had dropped from her face.
“Did something already happen?”
Amelia nodded. “A man caught me out by the privy in back. He said he and his partner would make me a widow, then I’d belong to him.”
“Did you see him?”
“No. He held my neck from behind. All I know is his voice and that he stank.”
“Did you tell Ross?”
She shook her head. Sophie exhaled hard through pursed lips. “Why not?”
“The man said he’d kill Hope if I told anyone.”
“Goodness, girl. You’ve got to tell your man so he can protect you and your niece.” Sophie tucked a few strands of hair back under her cap. “This is Montana Territory, not a big Eastern city. A man has to protect what’s his or lose it. Frank Chambers does a good job, but he’s only one man. And you’ll be all alone on the ranch.”
She abruptly stood up and began pacing as Amelia had earlier. “If Ross had known this, he wouldn’t have gone off with Nevin for a jaunt to Virginia City.”
“It’s not a jaunt, and he would have gone anyway.” Amelia set her jaw. “If you know so much, then where is the son of that vicious drunk, Ernest Thompson.”
“I’ve been trying to find that out. He’s a good boy, a hard worker.” She frowned. “His father wouldn’t be cursing him for going missing if he killed him, but someone else might have.”
“He’s on his way to Virginia City with Ross and Nevin.”
Sophie cocked her head and looked down at Amelia. “He’s going where?”
“Ross brought him home weeks ago. He’s very helpful with chores. I’ve arranged for a surgeon to fix his lip, or at least try to. That’s the only reason they went.”
Sophie settled herself again. She tapped the pads of her fingers together under her chin as if praying, but her eyes were open.
“Ross gets to search for whoever he’s looking for, Nevin gets some fun, and Ernie gets a lip that closes,” she murmured.
“As far as we’re concerned, he’s now Daniel MacDougal.”
“The boy deserves a good home.” Sophie nodded once, decisively. “Now, what are you going to do?”
“About what?”
Sophie’s expression changed from worried to lurid. “About you being alone with Gillis, who hasn’t bedded a woman since Prue started showing with Hope. Twelve long months.”
“We are going to do nothing. This morning is the first time I’ve spoken more than a few words with the man. Ross insisted he sleep in the house while they’re gone, so he’ll have a pallet by the kitchen until they return.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow.
“There’s nothing between us. Nothing!”
“I certainly saw something between you out in the wagon.” She spoke over Amelia’s gasp. “A woman doesn’t get that excited about a man she isn’t interested in.”
“He threatened to spank me! In the street!”
“And you loved the idea of it, didn’t you.”
“I beg your pardon!” Amelia struggled to her feet, hampered by the bustle.
“If you leave here, he will spank you.”
“He wouldn’t dare!”
“He did it to Prue the first time she tried having a hissy fit on him. Mind you, he kept her skirts down, but he told everyone, rather loudly, it was only because he doesn’t allow her to wear knickers.”
Amelia slumped onto the chair, face pale. “He actually did that?”
“Prue told me later that halfway home, he did it again, this time with her skirts up over her head. She struggled, kicking and screaming. She said it was the best fun. Mind you, she was much healthier when she first arrived. Every winter made her worse.”
“Oh, my.” Amelia fanned her face with her hand.
Sophie stood up. “I’ll give you a few minutes. When you’re calm, turn right at the hallway and join me in the kitchen. You’re not dressed for baking, but you could set some tables for me.”
“Of course,” replied Amelia primly. “I’ve taken you from your work. I do apologize.”
“Goodness, this was the most entertainment I’ve had since I planted my foot in Frederick Smythe’s bottom and shoved him out the front door.”
She paused with one hand on the crystal doorknob, her expression suddenly sober.
“Like others, Smythe thought he could take advantage of me. I don’t go far from the hotel without an escort, Amelia. Neither should you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Job completed, Gillis almost whistled as, kilt swinging from side to side, he strolled down the middle of the street toward the McLeod Hotel. Ernest Thompson had crawled out of some hole and slouched on the front steps of Baldy’s Saloon. With that ugly mug, Daniel was lucky not to favor his father.
“Why don’tcha wear pants like a man instead of a skirt?”
Gillis usually ignored that sort of comment, but he felt different today. He stopped and turned to the man. Daniel’s pa. He’d love to kill him, but it wouldn’t be fair to the boy. With that attitude, it wouldn’t be much longer before someone else did him in. Gil set his fists on his hips, booted feet wide apart.
“You think wearing pants makes a man?” He tsked and shook his head. “The MacDougal motto is Vincere vel mori. Which do ye think I’ll do today? Conquer, or die?” He spoke as if in conversation but clear enough for all to hear.
“You can’t kill me in cold blood on the street.”
“I didnae say kill, laddie. I said conquer. Do ye think ye can spare a few minutes to meet my fists on this bonnie day?”
The man looked around. He licked his lips when those around him looked back and sneered. Either he fought, or he’d lose what little respect he had. He sniffed deep and spat. It caused a tiny puff of dust near Gillis’s boot.
Gillis watched the much smaller man approach. There was at least nine inches difference in height and almost as much in girth. The man put up his fists and swung. Gillis caught the fist in his ha
nd. With the other, he grabbed the man by the shirt collar. No matter how hard he swung his remaining hand, all he could connect with was Gillis’s arm. Gillis lifted him off the ground so his feet dangled then dropped him. He sprawled in the dust.
When Thompson scuttled away on hands and knees, Gillis followed and gave him a boot in the rear. The man rolled away, howling.
“I dinna waste my time with the likes of you.” He turned in a circle, looking each man in the eye. “Any more of ye think ye’re man enough to insult The MacDougal?” Suddenly, not a man was looking at him. They’d either slunk back into the dark or found something far more interesting to look at, like their feet.
Gillis rolled his shoulders and continued down the middle of the street. When he passed the mercantile, the old dog struggled to his feet and paced with him.
“Damn dog’s smarter than half the men in this town,” he muttered as he turned toward the hotel. “I hope the lassie needs a lesson as well,” he said to the dog. It sat, knowing the hotel was out of bounds, as Gillis climbed the stairs. He marched through the front doors and down the hallway to the kitchen. He looked at the bustling group. No flimsy white dress.
“No Mrs. MacDougal, then?” He smiled and rubbed his hands in eagerness. “Guid!”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m setting the tables in the dining room.” Amelia strolled into the kitchen with a handful of spoons in one hand.
He slowly looked her up and down, admiring her as a woman for the first time. The fabric, see-through from right above the V of her chest to her neck, barely hid the flush that rose to her face. His cock rose as well. The heavy wool of the kilt pressed it down so no one else knew. He caught Sophie’s wink and smile and returned it. That woman missed nothing.
“I’ve done my business. Are ye ready to go across the street?”
She set her jaw. Her color deepened. Prue thought she controlled him, and he let her think that. He was discovering that Amelia was too honest to play those games. He hadn’t sparred with a woman other than Sophie in years, and that was only in friendship.