Applause loud, long and lusty circled round and round. Caroline blushed, stepped back and swept her arm to include the children in the acclaim. At her nod, they left the stage and hurried to find their families.
Sven stayed at the back with Micah perched on his arm while Caroline was swamped with well wishes and congratulations. Her eyes sparkled and her smile spread cheek to cheek. Happiness for her success spread like heated honey and warmed his stomach. His manhood was heated by another source, and he adjusted his trousers hoping no one would notice. Two more days, and she would be his.
Two days.
Chapter 11
Caroline
Caroline opened her deep blue eyes and pushed a tangle of black hair from her face. Today was her wedding day. Today she would be a bride. Today she would marry the love of her childhood and the man of her heart. Anticipation tingled. A flight of fireflies took residence in her over-excited stomach.
When she’d imagined this day as a young girl, and she and her friends had spent many a day lying in the cool grass by the river doing just that, the wedding was in Cold Spring. Her family, his mother, their school friends surrounded them with love and best wishes. They spent their wedding night in the town of their birth. Maybe Sven had rented a place in town, or maybe he had built them a cabin on his mother’s land, but her dream revolved around Cold Spring, the little town named for the water that ran sparkling and frisky in summer and froze to solid ice in the winter.
She was deeply sorry her father would not walk her down the aisle. That her mother was not here to help her dress and offer advice ached like a tooth needing to be pulled. She hoped to mend the rift, but it would wait awhile. The scar of her exile still too red and raw.
John Wayne would escort her down the path to her husband before taking his place at Sven’s side. Marcie would stand with her, and this new town, San Miguel, would witness and share their joy. Happiness bubbled like an underground spring. It wasn’t her childhood imaginings, but it was good and honest and true to the woman she was today.
Micah stirred in his crib and his eyes popped open. He grabbed the rail of his crib and pulled himself to a steady stand. He jumped and pulled on the rail until the bed shook.
“I’m coming, Micah,” she called. Lordy, he would pull that bed apart if she didn’t get him out.
Caroline prepared oatmeal and guided it into her son’s mouth. When he grabbed for the spoon, she let him have it. There would be oatmeal on the floor, in his hair, and some might make it into his tummy, but he needed to learn. He insisted on it. She wiped a glob from the front of her apron.
Micah twisted his face this way and that to avoid the wet cloth she held in her hand, but at last his visage shone clean. With a new diaper and fresh clothes, he was ready. John would fetch him soon, and he would spend the day at the Wayne house. They would bring him to the wedding. What had she done to deserve such friends? She closed her eyes and offered up a prayer of thanks.
A knock on the door and she scurried down the stairs.
“Morning, John. Morning, Ava,” she greeted her visitors.
“Good morning, Mrs. Connors,” Ava called from the wagon. “I came with Pa to hold Micah.”
“Thank you, Ava.” She smiled at the young girl.
Oh, how that Mrs. Connors rankled. She’d not had a choice but to assume the false title. After today, she would deserve it. Mrs. Nielson, she had always wanted to be her. She pulled Micah’s blanket closer around his shoulders and handed him up to Ava.
“Marcie will be along in an hour or so,” John said. “She aims to help you dress and whatever else you need to do on your wedding day.” The once feared Texas Ranger blushed deep pink clear to the roots of his hair. He swung into the wagon and gave a little snap of the reins. Micah looked over Ava’s shoulder and scrunched his little hand open and closed in his good-bye wave. Caroline returned it before going inside and shutting the door firmly behind her.
She reached the top of the stairs when the voice of her future husband roared, “Caroline, why is this door unlocked?”
“Don’t come up here, Sven. You can’t see me on our wedding day,” she called.
“That’s just some old wives’ tale, woman. Answer my question. Why is this door unlocked?” Sven demanded.
“Marcie is coming in an hour, and, oh, I forgot. I’m sorry,” she answered.
“Everybody around here knows you live alone, upstairs in those rooms. Men wanting a woman wouldn’t care what day it was. Have you forgotten about those drunk cowboys at the dance? I can’t let you take chances with your safety, Caroline. What if one of them was up to no good and gave your door a try?” His feet pounded up the stairs.
“Sven,” Caroline pled. She knew trouble when she saw it huffing her way. “Marcie will be here…”
“In an hour,” he finished her sentence. “Plenty of time for what I have in mind.” He turned a chair around from the dining table and took a seat. “Come here,” he demanded.
“You’re going to spank me on our wedding day?” Her voice rose a decibel.
“I’m going to spank you whenever you put your health or safety in jeopardy. The west is a dangerous place for a woman, Caroline. You have to remember that and live like you understand. Until you take that reality to heart, I’ll make it my job to help you remember.” He released a ragged breath. “When I saw the sheriff this morning, he told me about some men in town, drinking and carrying on. I needed to see you were safe, that’s all. Then your door was unlocked, and my heart fell to my boots. I just aimed to have a little kiss when you came down and tell you how much I wanted you to wife. I still plan on it, but first things first. Come here, sweetheart. You know I don’t aim to chase you.” He held out a big hand and waited.
“I haven’t promised to obey yet,” she whined.
The frown on his face spoke clear as day. “Caroline,” he growled.
With a sigh, she stood next to his right leg. “I expect you to come the first time I ask.” He spanked her bottom with two brisk strokes. “Over you go.” He lifted her and laid her carefully over his thighs.
A cool breeze on the back of her legs signaled the rising of her skirt. His big hand stroked her buttocks, and she clenched her legs together as heat pooled between her thighs.
“That’s for later,” he laughed. His hand descended then, and she jerked as pain, hot and heavy, shot through her body.
“I won’t do it again,” she begged. “I’ll lock the door.”
“I just bet you will,” Sven responded. His hand made swift work of turning her bottom a vivid shade of scarlet. She writhed and struggled, but Sven held her close and secure to his body. When at last he let her up, she melted into his chest and sobbed until his shirt was damp.
He rocked her while his voice soothed, calmed, and brought her peace.
“I still need that little kiss I came for,” Sven declared.
She turned a tear streaked face to his and felt deep heat as his lips sealed their promise.
“I will see you at the church at two,” he whispered. “When I will take you to wife.”
He stood her on her feet and gave her a long, strong hug. “Two o’clock, sweetheart.”
His broad back filled the door as he took his leave, but before he disappeared down the stairs he turned and considered her with warm ice blue eyes. “I love you, Caroline. I must keep you safe for Micah and me.” She heard the echo of his boots on the stairs, the closing of the door, and the click as the lock slid home.
Caroline wandered to the window and watched the giant of a man who would be her groom stride down the street. In all her youthful imaginings about this day, not a single one had included a spanking. She reached back and rubbed at the sting. Her bottom hurt, but her heart sang. She deserved that spanking. Sven had cautioned her about the door before. Knowing he cared enough to see to her safety kindled a deep ache.
After washing her face in cool water, she placed the kettle on the stove. When Marcie arrived, they would have a c
up of tea before transforming her into a bride. She giggled and rubbed her bottom again.
Caroline ran down the stairs at the sound of knuckles rapping on her door. She threw it wide. John and Marcie stood on the other side. John had a protective grip on her friend’s upper arm. His face set in serious stone.
Marcie stood on tiptoe to kiss her husband’s granite jaw. “We’ll be fine now. I’ll lock the door.”
“See that you do,” he growled. “I’ll be back to walk you to church at 1:45. Do not go outside. Understand me?” He gave his wife a hearty pat on her backside.
“I do.” Marcie stepped inside. “See you at 1:45, darling.” She closed the door and turned the key in the lock. They stood still and listened until his boots rang hollow on the wooden walk.
“Mercy,” Caroline exclaimed. “Why are the men so fierce this morning? You’d think a locked door was the most important thing on God’s green earth.”
“When John and Ava returned with Micah, John was mighty unhappy. The sheriff had called him over for a private talk and a warning,” Marcie began.
“A warning?”
“Yes. Three men rode into town late last night and headed for the saloon. Not much of a surprise there, but they became, well, disorderly might cover it in the beginning. One of the men took a girl upstairs, and when the barkeep heard her screaming, he grabbed a gun and ran upstairs. She’d been beaten pretty badly before her rescue.”
“Oh no, that’s terrible.” Caroline rechecked the doorknob. When she was satisfied the door was well and truly locked, she motioned toward the stairs. “I have water on to boil for tea.”
The two women climbed the stairs in silence before taking seats at the small dining room table.
“Milk?” Caroline asked as she poured the tea.
“No, just a little sugar,” Marcie reached for the flowered bowl and scooped some of the sweetener onto her spoon.
“What happened then? Have those men left town?” Caroline leaned forward as if willing her friend to speak.
“The bartender helped the girl into the backroom, and he told the other girls to join her and lock the door,” Marcie said.
“Why didn’t he go for the sheriff?” Caroline’s hand flew to her chest.
“He was afraid they’d break the door down and hurt the girls. It was three men against him. He got his rifle out and laid it on the bar, but he kept on selling them whiskey.” Marcie blew on her steaming liquid before taking a small sip. “They rode out early this morning, and the barkeep ran for the sheriff as soon as they were gone.”
A lone tear ran down Caroline’s face and landed on her bosom. When her family turned their backs on her, her aunt had taken her in. But if she hadn’t, what options were available to an unmarried woman with a child? Without her aunt’s helping hand, she might have ended up working on the second floor of a saloon. She shivered.
“Will the girl be all right?” Caroline enquired.
“John says so. He says the girls are used to rough treatment. Some men aren’t happy until a woman cries or begs, and the working girls know better than to make a fuss at a little rough play. But he took his fists to her.” She winced and shook her head. “The children are safe at the house. Don’t you worry about that. John left the foreman sitting on the porch with a rifle lying over his knees until he got back.”
“Well, I hope those men are gone.” Caroline rose from the table. “I’ll make some toast and start heating water for my bath.”
When the tub was full, Caroline dropped her robe and stepped into the delicious warmth. A good soak was a luxury, and she aimed to enjoy every minute.
“Ouch,” she hissed as the pink skin on her bottom met the heat of the water.
Marcie laughed, “Your bottom is pink as a prairie rose, Caroline. Did Sven spank you this morning?”
“He did. My door was unlocked. I didn’t know about the trouble at the saloon, but the door should have been locked. I know better,” Caroline conceded.
“John spanked me more than once over an unlocked door. I learned, though, I surely did.” Marcie handed her friend a bar of soap smelling of lilacs and a wash rag. “Enjoy that tub and relax for a bit. Rest while you can. You won’t get much sleep tonight.”
What had her ma always told her? There’s no rest for the wicked. Well, she didn’t believe Sven had rest on his mind. The way he looked at her, mercy, it left wicked in the dust.
Chapter 12
Sven
Sven walked with swift purpose. He arrived at the door with the single word Sheriff painted on the rough wood.
“Morning, Sheriff. Any news of those three hooligans?” Sven asked.
“They drank themselves silly. Did a fair amount of damage to the saloon, broken glasses, turned over tables, money owed. Little Belinda was beat pretty badly. Doc says she’ll recover.” He passed a hand over weary eyes.
“They’re gone?”
“Yes. They rode out about dawn. With any luck, we’ll never see hide nor hair of them again.” The sheriff bent to pick up several pieces of wood and placed them in the stove. “It’s a cold December morning.” He rubbed his hands together as if hoping for a spark.
“It is that. Well, I think I’ll check on the girl. Thank you, Sheriff. I don’t want any trouble on our wedding day. We’ve been planning this for quite some time.” Sven gave an inward chuckle. An understatement if there ever was one.
“Right. I plan to be there. Well, the entire town plans to be there. We’re right pleased. The preacher and the teacher,” he cackled before returning to stoke his fire.
“I expect everyone is pleased to see Reverend Smythe again. It was generous of him to come out of retirement to perform the service,” Sven declared.
Sven stepped through the door and took a minute to button his coat. Damn, it was cold. He’d been hot enough when he spanked Caroline’s little bottom, and that was a fact. Nothing warmed a man like a white bottom draped over his lap. He groaned. He had mighty big plans for that bottom tonight. He closed his eyes. Waiting was downright painful.
Sven adjusted his pants and strode as fast as he was able to the doctor’s office.
“Doc,” he called.
“Hello, Preacher.” A small man with gray hair and a rounded belly perched above his belt entered from behind a closed door. “I was just wrapping Belinda’s ribs. She’ll heal up, and the black eye will disappear. Then I reckon it’s back to the saloon.” The doc sank into a chair. “Doesn’t have much choice, I guess. She doesn’t have any family.”
“Would she like a visitor?” Sven asked.
“I gave her something to help her sleep. Come back tomorrow, and she might feel more like a chat.” The doc pointed at the door. “Don’t you have a wedding to get ready for?”
Sven’s smile was so big his face ached. “That I do. That I do.”
Returning to his own house, he began heating water for a bath.
The woman who cooked and did a little cleaning for him emerged from the bedroom. “I put fresh linens on the bed,” she said with a blush. “There is a pot of soup warming on the back of the stove, but I doubt you’ll be hungry after the dance. Women have been cooking for days for the wedding potluck. Don’t worry, it’ll keep ‘til tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Ruth. I’ll see you at the church.” He waited until the door swung shut behind her before pouring the first bucket of water into the tub.
It took a good while to fill his big tub. He eyed the pool of steaming water. He did believe that if Caroline sat on his lap, they would fit in the tub together. He licked his lips. He frowned at his erect member standing proudly from his body. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough to suit him.
By one o’clock he was bathed, shaved, and dressed in his best clothes. His boots were polished to a blinding shine, and his hat brushed free of dirt. He didn’t plan to wear the hat in the church, but to and from. A man without his hat was a man undressed.
Sven snapped his fingers. “Come, Loki,” he commanded. The big Husky
trotted over, tongue hanging, and dropped to a sit by his master’s boot. “Something big is happening today, and you have to be on your very best behavior.” Loki’s tail beat the ground. Sven went down on one knee and looked the dog in the eye. “You’ve been my best friend, sometimes my only friend, and it’s right you should be at my side today. We’re getting married. It’s mighty good news for the both of us.” Sven pulled a deep blue ribbon from his pocket and tied it in a big bow around his dog’s furry neck. “That ribbon is the color of Caroline’s eyes. Don’t mess with it.” He gave the dog a mighty pat and rubbed between his ears. “Good dog, Loki.”
He ate a bowl of the soup simmering on his stove, and at one-thirty, he left for the church with Loki prancing at his side. His stomach roiled and the barbed wire that gripped his heart pulled snug.
A wedding ceremony was a brief one, a small blessing for the groom. She’d be his in one hour. One hour. He bowed his head and whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you, Jesus.” Today he would not be the preacher. Today he was simply a groom.
John Wayne’s wagon pulled up to the church. He set the brake and leapt to the ground. “Howdy, Sven. Ready to get hitched?”
“I’m nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dragged it across his brow. “I can’t wait to make her mine. The waiting is powerful hard on a man.”
John gave a friendly punch to his shoulder. “It is at that, but we all lived through it.” He strode to the back of the wagon and lifted his children to the ground before placing Micah in his father’s care.
“Ava, Adam,” the two turned identical eyes his way.
“Yes, Pa?” they asked in unison.
“Watch Katie and help with Micah. I’ll be back with Mama in a few minutes,” John ordered. The two men watched as each child took one of the toddler’s hands. “I’ll go fetch the women. Time for you to go inside and wait for your bride.”
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