My Sassy Settler (Willamette Wives Book 2) Read online

  That night, when Wallace went to the nightly meeting, her mother had quietly talked to her for the first time in years.

  "I don't care what Wallace says. I know you are a good girl. Agatha, Wyatt is a good man. I have no doubt that he loves you and that he'll treasure the wonderful woman you will become once you're away from here. Wyatt isn't the type of man to blame you for every bad thing that happens simply because you were born female. Trust your heart, my darling daughter. Allow yourself to discover true love. I found it with your father and it is only that memory that keeps me alive."

  "Why did you marry Wallace? You can't love him."

  Her mother hadn't answered, simply apologized for being a fool and begged forgiveness for not being strong enough to stand up to the man whose name she'd taken. Agatha had begged her to find the strength to leave Wallace, but her Ma refused. She'd stated that she'd made the choice to wed him and it was her duty to stand beside him. Nothing Agatha could say swayed her. Instead of being angry, Agatha suddenly was terrified that she knew the reason. Her Ma had wed him to keep him from destroying her daughter. The depth of love that sacrifice entailed had left her speechless. Guilt consumed her for ever having doubted that her mother loved her.

  As the weeks passed, Agatha fell in love. The moment Wyatt had taken her into his arms and twirled her around one night during an impromptu dance, she was lost. When he'd asked Wallace for permission to wed her, she had been horribly afraid that Wyatt wouldn't be able to withstand the coming explosion. However, just as her Ma had urged, she'd found a man who was everything her stepfather hated. In other words, a man who would not be intimated or cowed by threats of fire and brimstone. When Wallace warned Wyatt that he'd chosen a harlot who gave her body to any man who looked at her, she'd heard Wyatt speak.

  "You'll apologize."

  "Now look here, son…"

  "Not to me," Wyatt said, his voice soft and yet reminding her of steel. "To Agatha."

  Instead of apologizing, Wallace accused her of already giving herself to a common ranch hand.

  Her love's presence had given her back the strength she'd thought lost forever. "I'd rather sleep with the devil than spend another moment under your thumb. Wyatt is a man, while you are nothing more than a monster! You don't bring God's love to anyone. All you bring is hate and fear!"

  The reverend had sputtered as he accused her of blasphemy, stepped forward, and slapped her across her face. Before she could blink, the preacher was on his back lying on the ground, and Wyatt was being held back by his friends. Her Ma had looked at her.

  "Go, you have my blessing. For God's sake, please go!"

  With that, Wyatt's friends released him and he proposed. Agatha had instantly accepted. They'd been wed that evening by Mr. Morgan, the wagon master. Her Ma hadn't attended the ceremony, as the moment Wallace managed to regain his feet, he'd announced that he wouldn't stay with a train that was full of sinners. Their wagon had cleared the horizon by the time Agatha was wed and led to the wagon her new husband shared with two other ranch hands.

  Roger and Matthew had disappeared, allowing the newlyweds some privacy. Agatha had been absolutely terrified. The joy of being away from Wallace was overshadowed by the absence of her mother, and the fear of the retribution she'd pay for supporting her daughter. The embarrassing scene had been seen by so many fellow travelers, and Agatha had just known that all eyes were waiting for the wagon to begin rocking, proving that she was a whore. She'd burst into tears the moment Wyatt had reached for her. He'd been calm, while she'd been hysterical. Memories of nights spent hearing the sounds of forced coupling had consumed her.

  Wyatt had tried to console her. "Shh, it's going to be okay." It had taken a half hour for her to calm, and it was only his assurance that he'd sleep beneath the wagon that allowed her to sleep at all. If his friends wondered why he joined them on the ground every night, they didn't ask. By the time they'd driven into the Willamette Valley and onto what was to become the Double R, or was less formally named, The Rose Ranch, Agatha had become familiar with Wyatt taking her hand, slipping an arm about her waist, and giving her tender kisses. She'd watched their cabin being built, knowing that his patience was ebbing. After all, they'd been wed for weeks, if in name only.

  The first night he'd entered the bedroom, she'd been trembling.

  "I'm not going to hurt you, Aggy," he'd said. "I love you and I promise everything is going to be okay." And he'd tried. He'd spent a long time holding her on his lap, stroking her arms, her back, and her hair. She'd begun to melt when he kissed her and felt her heart pounding when he'd whispered for her to let him in. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she'd felt her blood race. She hadn't said a word as he pressed her gently onto her back. However, the moment he began to push her gown up, she'd protested that she wasn't ready.

  "You're my wife, Aggy. I love you. Now, darlin', let me make love to you."

  When he'd moved over her and she felt his manhood brush against her, she froze. None of the words he'd uttered had mattered. He'd tried to be gentle and yet, when he pushed inside her, she'd cried out.

  "Shh, I'm sorry but promise that's the only pain you'll feel." He'd slid a hand up her gown to cup her breast and she moaned, her blood quickening. When his fingers had run across her nipple and he groaned, she'd shattered, as the memory of another man's hands on her filled her mind. She wasn't the innocent he thought she was. Wallace was right. She was a Jezebel, and had now drawn this wonderful man into sin. Tears had come then, and Wyatt had continually attempted to soothe her even though she didn't deserve his words of love. She was a harlot. The way her body heated at his look and threatened to ignite at his touch branded her a sinner.

  Despite her intense shame, as he'd continued to move within her, Agatha wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck and pull him closer. When he'd groaned and his body stiffened, she was sure he was about to die for her sins. She hadn't dared breathe as he shuddered, but said a prayer begging to be taken instead of this man who'd done nothing but love her. Relief had flooded through her when he'd continued to live. Shame had consumed her as he pulled out of her and she wanted nothing more than to have him fill her body again. Unable to face him, she'd curled into a ball. Though it took everything she had to hide her fear that one night he would be struck down for their repeated fornication, she could never deny him his husbandly rights. Despite her repeated prayers for deliverance from lust, her body ached for his touch. She had cried one night when it seemed her prayers had been answered, as she couldn't recall the last time he'd lifted her gown to slip into her body.

  After this morning's tantrum and her physical attack, she had run rather than learn he was going to set her aside. She was so much worse than a harlot. She was the most selfish woman ever born. It didn't matter that he deserved a woman who had come to him innocent and untouched. She'd rather die than ever be without him. She'd spend eternity roasting in the fires of hell for her sins but, God help her, she didn't have the strength to let him set her free.

  Chapter Three

  "Are you planning on staying there all day?"

  Her husband's question had come from above her and had her looking up. His height made it easy for him to simply look over the bales and peer down at her. When she didn't immediately answer, he sighed.

  "Agatha, hiding doesn't solve anything. When you are ready to talk, I'll be sitting right here." He disappeared but she felt the hay at her back move and understood that he was sitting, his back pressing against the hay on the opposite side of where she was leaning. The only sounds in the barn were the shuffling of the animals in their stalls.

  Several minutes passed before she spoke. "I'm sorry."

  "So am I."

  Her heart ached. She'd been waiting for this moment for weeks. Though she wasn't strong enough to let him go, she'd never doubted that one day he'd find the strength to set her aside. After all, she'd done nothing but push him away since their wedding day.

  "I'll-I'll go," she whispe
red.

  "Aggy, the only place you will be going is across my knees if you don't get it through your thick skull that I love you."

  "Y-you do?"

  "Oh, for God's sake!" She felt the hay shift at her back. Before she could react, he had moved, lifted her off her feet and stepped back around the stack. In one fluid movement, he sank to sit on the hay bale she'd caused to fall onto the floor, adjusted her so that she was straddling his lap and cupped her chin in his fingers, forcing her head to tilt back.

  "Open your eyes and look at me." The silence drew out until she opened her eyes and focused on him. "If you don't hear another word I say, hear this. I loved you the moment I held you in my arms at that dance. I've loved you every moment since and, young lady, I will love you until the day I die."

  "I don't want you to die!" She burst into tears, the force of her sobs making it difficult to draw breath, but she had to make him understand. "I-I deserve to die… I'm the ba-bad one. You-you are go-good. I-I begged God to-to take… take me… but he-he knows I-I'm a-a liar and, and…"

  Wyatt dropped her chin to wrap his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. One hand began to stroke up and down her back. "Shhh, oh, Aggy, shhh. No one is going to die." When she attempted to push away to explain, he simply held her tighter. "Shhh, I promise everything is going to be just fine."

  She sobbed against him, soaking his shirt, but he never once stopped stroking her and issuing soothing words. When she began hiccupping, he patted her back. When she started sniffling, he released her only long enough to pull his handkerchief from his pocket and set her back a bit in order to press the cloth to her nose.

  "Blow."

  Her nose cleared, she again laid her head on his chest. It was another several minutes before he spoke. "Can you talk to me now?"

  "How could you love me? How can you love a harlot? How can you love a whore?"

  The quiet tone he'd used before was gone when he spoke. "God damn that bastard!" Evidently he'd felt her jerk caused by his shout because he instantly pulled her to him again. "Agatha, sweetheart, I know for a fact that you are nothing of the sort. You were pure when I took you. I thought you understood that the pain…" He paused, and she felt his chest heave as he took in several slow, long breaths. "Darlin', the pain that night was due to my taking your virginity. Virgins aren't whores and you are certainly not a harlot." He paused again and when he next spoke it was to utter words softly, but she heard them. "Harlots don't hate a man's touch."

  "I don't…"

  "Don't what?"

  She shook her head, unable to speak the truth.

  "You don't hate me?"

  She gasped. How could he think that? "Of course I don't hate you. I-I could never hate you."

  "Then why—"

  "Wyatt, please, you'll find someone better…"

  "Agatha, look at me." Steeling herself, she lifted her eyes to his. "Look at me and tell me you don't love me. If you can do that, I'll never touch you again." When she moaned, he continued. "I will love you for the rest of my life. It will kill me, but if you don't love me, if you don't think you'll ever be happy with me, then I'll set you free."

  Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she opened her mouth to set him free. "I-I… oh, God, I can't. I might be damned, but I love you. God, I love you so much."

  She'd barely finished speaking before he crushed her to him, his head bending, his mouth searing her own. By the time he released her, her lips felt swollen and her heart was skipping in her chest.

  "Don't you ever, ever speak about my wife, the woman I love with my entire soul, that way again, do you hear me?" he said gruffly.

  "But…"

  "There are no buts, young lady. Any fool can claim he is a righteous man but I promise you, Wallace is nothing but a pompous bastard. He is no more a man of God than that cow." He pointed to the stall where Bessie was studying them, her large brown eyes so expressive it was as if she was truly concerned about the two. When she actually gave a soft moo, Agatha giggled and then slapped her hand over her mouth.

  "Don't," Wyatt said, moving her hand away and bending to kiss her softly. "That's the most beautiful sound in the world."

  She felt her heart race and then realized that the bands she'd felt constricting her lungs for weeks were loosening. "I'm so sorry."

  "So am I," he said and then grinned. "And now we are right back to where we started."

  She giggled again but shook her head. "No, this time I'm sorry for how I behaved and not for how I feel."

  He hugged her close. "Don't ever hide how you feel from me again. I've been so scared that I've disappointed you. I've prayed that I could somehow prove how much you mean to me. I'd give my very last breath to see you happy—to hear you laugh again."

  Agatha closed her eyes to keep fresh tears from escaping. This was the man her father would want to wed and lead his daughter. Wyatt was the only man she had ever truly loved, and the one to whom she would spend the rest of her life attempting to make up for the weeks of torment she'd put him through.

  "I love you so much," she whispered.

  "I'm glad, because I love you with all my heart."

  She pushed back from his chest and looked up at him. "I'm ready."

  He looked down at her quizzically. "Ready for what?"

  "For my spanking." She almost smiled at the look in his eyes. "Discipline, I understand and accept. My Pa, my real Pa, taught me that a spanking didn't mean he didn't love me or thought me bad. He taught me that he spanked because he wanted to help me, to guide me, and to teach me to be a better girl. As my husband, isn't it your duty to do the same?"

  "Yes, but I didn't want to push you, not when you were so unhappy. You aren't afraid?"

  "No, Wyatt. I could never fear you. A spanking or... a strapping only hurts for a short while. It's words that I've learned to fear. Hateful words screamed at me daily. Words that almost broke me… would have broken me if you hadn't found me on the wagon train." She felt tears sliding freely down her cheeks and yet felt her body becoming lighter as each one fell. "Punish me, Wyatt. I-I need you to be the strong one. I need you so badly. I know you truly love me and wouldn't beat—"

  "I'd die before I beat you, Agatha."

  "I know." She reached up and placed her palm on his cheek. "I meant beat me down with words."

  He ran his palm across his face and then spent another moment studying her face. "I owe you such an apology."

  "What? No, Wyatt, if anyone…"

  "I do. I've done you such an injustice. I've let you spend weeks fearing that you weren't truly safe, truly loved. I'm not your stepfather, but I've also not been a very good husband. I just didn't know how to reach you. I was so scared of losing you."

  A tear slid down her cheek at the knowledge that her behavior had caused this man to doubt himself. Her silence and withdrawal had caused them both pain. "You are a wonderful husband."

  "No, I'm not. I've treated you like a fragile china doll instead of the passionate woman I know is somewhere deep inside. I've been so afraid that any discipline I meted out would be the last straw—that you'd break. Instead of being strong enough to face my fears, I was a coward and you've paid the price. I was so scared you'd think of me like that bastard, I haven't done my duty and taken you in hand. I've allowed us to become silent, to let our concerns and fears fester instead of dealing with them. Instead of turning you over my knees and proving that while no naughtiness will go unpunished, the moment it's done, you are forgiven… instead of taking you to bed after I've reddened your ass to prove to you exactly how much I love you—even if you are uncomfortable with my touch—I've let your doubts and fears grown more every damn day."

  "I'm not," she whispered, the release of hidden truth freeing her soul. "I love it when you touch me. I-I just thought that if I pretended not to enjoy it when you… um, touch me, that you'd be safe from…" she paused, dropping her eyes, her face heating.

  Wyatt forced her chin back up. "The fires of hell?" />
  She bobbed her head. "I know it sounds silly but…"

  "No, darlin', it sounds as if it will take a while before all the lies that have been pounded into you are proven untrue. I told you I'd failed you, and I have. Well, that stops today."

  "Y-yes, sir. Thank you."

  "Don't thank me yet, little one. I fear you are about to discover that being spanked by your husband is quite different to being swatted by your Pa."

  She felt heat suffuse her body when he easily lifted her and turned her face down over his knees. "Just remember, I only spank you because I love you. I spank you to keep you safe, to ground you, to guide you and, Aggy, I redden your ass to let you know that you are the most important thing in my life. Understand?" he said.

  "Yes, I understand."

  "Good." She felt his hand begin to rub circles over the back of her skirt. She couldn't help but squirm a bit, and yelped when his palm landed a swat against her right buttock. "Be still."

  "Yes, sir."

  His hand resumed its circling. "Tell me why I'm going to spank you."

  "What?"

  Another swat landed, this time on her left cheek. "I'm the one asking the questions, young lady. You are the one answering them. Every time I have cause to give you a spanking or punish you, we'll start with you telling me why it's necessary. Doing so will help reinforce the reason why your beautiful little backside is going to burn."

  Well, she might not be a true harlot, but she was pretty positive it was naughty to feel heat gathering between her legs. How was she supposed to answer when he kept caressing her? Evidently, she was taking too long to reply, as two rapid swats were delivered.

  "Oh! Um, you are going to spank me because I-I broke… Ouch!" This time, four definitely harder swats landed; two on each cheek.

  "True repentance comes from a truthful confession. Yes, the eggs broke but I'm not going to spank you for breaking eggs, am I?"

  "No, sir. You are going to spank me because I threw the eggs at you." She braced herself for another swat but it didn't come.