The Teacher and the Preacher
Page 1
What’s Inside
“Sven, please,” she began.
“No begging, Caroline. You know better. You already admitted punishment was called for. I expect you to behave and accept it.” Sven’s stern voice echoed from the walls of the stairwell.
He pushed open the door to a spare room and set Caroline on her feet. A chair with a hard seat and a straight back stood like a soldier at attention against the wall. It didn’t look comfortable, but it would work. He lifted it in one hand and set it in the middle of the room.
He held out his hand. “Come here, sweetheart.”
Caroline shrank away. Rubbing her hands up and down the side of her dress, she landed a plaintive look.
“Come here,” he repeated, “don’t make me come get you. That’s not a habit I plan to start.”
Her eyes wandered to the door before settling on her husband-to-be.
“Don’t even try it, Caroline. If I didn’t love you so, I wouldn’t bother to spank you. But because you are so precious to me, I can’t ignore willful, dangerous behavior.” He made a come-here motion with his extended hand.
With a grimace, Caroline placed her hand into his and stood beside his legs.
Sven placed his hands on her waist and drew her close. She was so tiny. He would remember that and temper his spanks.
When his hands undid the button on her skirt, Caroline clawed at his hands. “Don’t, Sven.”
“Stop that this instant,” he commanded.
He continued with the buttons until a gentle push dropped the skirt to the ground. “This skirt will just get in the way. It’s easier for it to be off. When we’re married, you’ll wear your nightgown or be naked.” He was working at the ribbon that held her bloomers in place. They followed the skirt to the floor. “Step out,” he ordered.
A tear rolled down her perfect cheek, but she followed his instruction.
Lord have mercy, he prayed. She stood naked from the waist down. Caroline might be small, but she was all woman. Her hips flared, her legs were straight and shapely, and a nest of hair as black as night protected her female treasure. He gulped.
He lifted her and laid her over his thighs. Her buttocks formed a perfect little heart, and small dimples winked at him. With his right hand, he caressed her exposed bottom, rubbing and squeezing. He intended to spank this perfection, he surely did, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to admire and touch. In two weeks this bottom would be his, legally and forever.
Sven made another circle with his hand before delivering sharp swats to both buttocks, the top of her thighs, and the sensitive spot where her bottom curved from her slender thighs.
Caroline groaned and pressed her pelvis into his hard thigh. Sven smiled. She liked some punishment, and Sven liked to spank. When they were married, he would explore this kind of fun with her. But tonight was not about fun, and he did not want her to enjoy his attentions.
Drawing his hand back halfway, he dropped the first real spank onto her right cheek and watched the outline of his hand appear on her porcelain skin. He struck her left cheek and waited for a repeat appearance.
The Teacher and the Preacher
Lonestar Love Book Three
Victoria Phelps
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2019
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Victoria Phelps
The Teacher and the Preacher
EBook ISBN: 978-1-64563-091-3
v1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Victoria Phelps
Blushing Books
Blushing Books Newsletter
Chapter 1
Caroline
“Please, Micah, hold still,” Caroline begged the baby squirming in her arms.
Micah turned his deep blue eyes to his mother’s face and beamed a two-tooth grin before latching his pudgy fingers onto her collar and pulling it toward his drooling mouth. She wanted to look her best for the tea party. She was, after all, the guest of honor. At this rate, her entire bosom would be saliva soaked before she arrived.
She set the baby on his feet and took his small hands in her own. Leaning forward slightly, she let the boy toddle. Micah stepped out, leading with his chest, lifting each foot high in the air. He would walk on his own soon, and she both loved and feared the idea. At one-year, he weighed thirty-three pounds. She sighed. Would she be able to keep up with him, lift him, in another six months?
The sound of buggy wheels rolling on packed dirt pulled her attention from her son’s baby steps to the street. The conveyance drew to a stop, and a tall, muscular man stepped out.
“Mrs. Connors?” he inquired.
“Yes, that’s me,” she answered although her stomach tightened at the lie. She was no one’s missus.
The big cowboy removed his hat and held it by his side. “I’m John Wayne, Marcie’s husband. I came to pick you up for the party. Marcie was busy getting ready. She sends her apologies for not coming in person.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wayne.” The baby squealed in displeasure at their suspended motion. He pulled on her hands and scowled.
“Call me John.” He looked at the straining child. “That’s a mighty fine looking boy you got there, Mrs. Connors.”
His eyes strayed from Micah, to her, and back. The baby was white blond, big, tall for his age. She was tiny, elfish, faery-like. Her cheek bones were high, her nose tilted and her mouth a lush pink bow. Midnight black hair was brushed away from her face revealing a widow’s peak. That dramatic peak at the baby’s forehead and his deep blue eyes marked him as hers. Her genetic contribution ended there.
“Micah gets his coloring and his size from his father,” she answered the unspoken question. “Please, call me Caroline.” She lifted the boy into her arms and moved toward the stairs.
John Wayne was by her side, cupping her elbow with his large hand, guiding her down the steps. He helped her into the buggy and waited while she arranged her skirts and set the child on her lap.
He turned the buggy and headed back up the street. “Are you getting settled?”
“Mrs. Thornton met me yesterday and took me to the rooms. There was already food in the cupboard and the bed and crib made up. It was so nice. Micah and I were both worn out from the trip.” The hot, dry Texas landscape rolled by. She’d lived her whole life in Minnesota, a land of sparkling lakes and snow. Well, she’d get used to this place, and she wanted to be, needed to be, far away from anyone who might recognize her.
“Mrs. Thornton, Amanda, is my sister
-in-law. She’s Marcie’s younger sister,” John explained.
He gave the reins a shake and the horses picked up their pace. The air flowing past, hot as it was, offered some relief from the stifling heat. “Marcie lived in your rooms when she first came to San Miguel. I installed the lock on the door and the one at the bottom of the stairs. The town is not as rowdy as it once was. We have a church and our school is set to open.” He tipped his head in her direction and smiled. There are more women here now, but men still outnumber them. I hope you’ll keep both locks set when home.” Caroline felt his sharp gaze as he awaited her answer.
“I will,” she agreed. “Marcie has been wonderful. I applied to schools all over the country, but no one would hire a woman with a child. Marcie was accepting, enthusiastic, even, to have both of us. She said she would set up babysitting. I’d never encountered that word before. Micah will be staying at your home during the day and the babysitter,” she rolled the word around on her tongue, “will watch both Micah and your daughter, Katie.” John nodded his understanding. “Marcie wrote that there was no reason a woman with children couldn’t hold a job outside the home. I can tell you, no one else shares that opinion. She said she is the midwife and sometimes doctor here. Your wife is very unusual.”
John choked or laughed. She couldn’t determine which. “Yes, she is certainly that.”
The buggy entered a large yard in front of a white, two-story house. A porch wrapped around the building. Two women rose from a swing and met the buggy in the yard.
“Mrs. Connors, I’m Marcie Wayne and you met my sister, Amanda, yesterday.” The two women beamed smiles of welcome. Caroline suppressed a laugh. They were alike as two peas in a pod with their masses of curly hair. “This must be Micah. What a handsome boy.” Marcie held her hands out to the baby and, to Caroline’s surprise, he launched himself into her arms.
Two children approached the little group. “These are my older children.” Amanda put an arm around each child. “Tommy is twelve, and Jeanette is ten. We’ve engaged the services of some of the older children to watch the babies while we have our tea.”
“Tommy, this is Micah. Can you take him to play with the other children?” Marcie handed the baby to the older boy. Micah grinned at her as he was borne away. Caroline gave him a little wave and sighed. He’d been so clingy on the trip, but these people had won him over at first glance. She would trust his judgment. John circled the buggy and helped her to the ground.
The frenzied barking of two dogs split the air. The dogs ran, tongues hanging, twisted in the air, and fought for the prize – a large, dirty stick. One dog was big and brown, a mutt. The other had the thick silver and gray coat of a Husky. Poor thing, she thought, he must suffer in the Texas heat. In Minnesota, a Husky was a familiar sight. They were excellent guard dogs and could pull a sled through the worst storm, but they were also loyal and loving. He was a long way from the snow, and so was she. Her stomach clenched at the memory of those cold, clear nights. The dogs pulling their sled through the falling snow while she sat wrapped in fur - warm, secure, home. Caroline blinked away a tear and straightened her shoulders.
John pointed at the brown dog. “That’s Duke. He’s our dog. The other one belongs to the preacher.” The dogs each held one end of the stick in their mouth and were engaged in canine tug-of-war. Deep, snarling growls reverberated in the still afternoon air. “Don’t worry about them. They won’t really fight each other,” he reassured. With a dismissive wave, John turned toward the house.
Marcie linked her arm with his. “Come in. Everyone is eager to meet you. San Miguel is a good town, and we hope you’ll like it here.”
The steady hum of chatter disappeared when they entered, and all heads swiveled in her direction. A lump of self-consciousness mixed with a healthy dose of fear took up uncomfortable residence in her throat. She needed this job. She needed these people to like her, but, more important, to approve of her.
Marcie led her to the front of the room. “I have the great pleasure of introducing our new teacher, Caroline Connors. As you know, the first day of school will be two weeks from today. All children between the ages of six and fifteen are welcome. Please help yourself to tea or punch and cookies.”
Marcie laced her arm though Caroline’s and led her to the table. She poured two cups of tea, handed one to her, and kept up a running dialogue of introductions. Caroline’s hand had been squeezed until it ached, and her lips hurt from the smile frozen on her face.
A single knock on the door drew her attention. A shiver raced through her body, and she pushed it aside. She was safe. No one knew her here. Her shoulders lowered. Her fists unclenched.
“Afternoon, Preacher,” John Wayne greeted the newcomer.
“Hope I’m not too late, John. I had a bit of an emergency. Granny Wilkins is poorly, I’m sorry to say.” Her shoulders resumed their height. She knew that voice, but it couldn’t be. Not here. Not now. Not so far from home.
“That’s the preacher. Every available woman for miles around arrives at service in her best dress and stares at him like they’ve been forty days in the desert, and he’s a glass of water.” Marcie squeezed Caroline’s arm. “Wait until you see him, and you’ll understand.”
Caroline fixed her eyes on the door. The two men entered, and blood rushed from her face to the bottom of her feet to return in scalding heat. It couldn’t be, it simply could not be, but there he stood – Sven Nielson.
John motioned in her direction. “Come meet our new teacher, Sven.” He stood in front of her, holding out his hand. “Mrs. Connors, this is our preacher, Sven Nielson.” His giant hand engulfed her tiny one. It had always been this way. His giant to her elf, like so many of the Norwegian fairy tales they were raised on.
His hand was clammy. His eyes scorched her face. “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Connors.”
“Thank you, Mr. Nielson, I…”
A disturbance at the kitchen door revealed Tommy with a sobbing Micah in his arms. “I’m sorry to interrupt the party, but Micah got mighty fussy. I tried my best, but I think he needs his ma.”
Caroline pulled her hand from the preacher’s grip and hurried across the room. “Thank you, Tommy. Come here, baby.” She leaned down and scooped the unhappy child into her arms. Rocking back and forth, she patted his back until the sobs became sniffles. The preacher’s gaze burned her back and sent her pulse racing. She lifted her eyes to his and strove for a look of defiant begging. Don’t say a word. Not a single word.
The baby lifted his head from her shoulder and surveyed the room with those dark blue eyes before pushing his fist into his mouth.
“I’m sorry. He’s teething. I’ve enjoyed meeting all of you, but I believe I should get Micah home.” Caroline moved toward the door glancing at Sven as she went. His eyes were glued to the baby. She was out the door and moving toward town. A frenzy of conversation exploded at her back.
John hustled to catch her. “Mrs. Connors, Caroline, wait. Let me hitch the buggy.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll enjoy the walk.” Caroline called over her shoulder, but her difficulty holding the squirming child paid lie to her claim.
“I’ll be happy to walk Mrs. Connors back to town.” Sven’s long legs ate the distance between them. He put two fingers in his mouth and a shrill whistle pierced the air. “Loki, come,” he called.
The Husky stopped mid-game, spotted Sven and trotted to his master’s side. “Good boy, Loki.” Sven ruffled the big dog’s fur.
“Loki. Oh my God. Loki,” Caroline gasped. The dog studied her with his Husky eyes, blue with a ring of black, before trotting to her side and rubbing against her skirt.
“He remembers you,” Sven said.
She ran her fingers through his thick fur.
“You can’t carry the child all the way to town,” Sven muttered. He reached for the sleeping boy. “Let me help.”
He plucked Micah from her arms and laid him against his chest. He encircled the child with both arms and closed his eye
s. His voice trembled. “He’s mine.”
“Yes, he’s yours,” she snapped. Anger oozed like thick mud through her words.
She stamped her foot and would have rushed ahead ignoring the blond giant except he held her son, their son, in his brawny arms.
“I don’t understand. It was just the one time,” he stammered.
“Yes, well, apparently once is enough.” Her words, sharp as arrows, zinged through the hot, dry air.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know…” he began.
“No, you didn’t know. You left. Left the next morning after we slept… no, not slept, there was no sleeping involved, after we made love by the river. At least, I thought we were making love until you disappeared. And I waited, Sven, I waited. Counting the days until I saw you again, and then counting the days until I knew I was pregnant. Pregnant and alone in a small town. The small town we grew up in. A place full of good people, but people who take rules seriously. It takes two to break one rule in particular, but only the woman gets the blame.” She was walking at full speed, arms swinging.
As they neared the door to her rooms, she fumbled in her purse searching for the key.
“John said you were Mrs. Are you married?” Sven asked.
“No, in my application I said I was a widow. Marcie willing to hire a woman with a child was rare enough, but an unwed woman with a child? Even Marcie’s good will can only go so far,” she fumed.
“We’ll get married,” he declared. Sven shifted the baby to one arm and took possession of Caroline’s wrist with the other.