When he was finally done, he wiped his mouth with what he recognized as a real napkin, rather than a paper towel, and said, “I will, you know.”
“What?” She looked up from a glass filled with ice and Diet Coke, her eyes landing on his for only the most fleeting of seconds, then skittering nervously away.
“Pay you back.”
Jayne shrugged. “I’m not worried about it, either way.”
Trieve’s face clouded up. “I know, but I am.”
She cleared her throat uneasily. “I know, and I’m sorry you’re going to agonize over something when you don’t need to. You have enough on your plate trying to keep this place afloat, and although I haven’t seen all that much of it yet, I can absolutely understand why you would want to preserve it and leave it as a legacy for your children. There’s its own kind of . . . stark beauty. Not flashy like Vermont in the fall, but gorgeous nonetheless.”
That’s exactly how he thought of it. He loved the land and he loved his work. He just wished he’d been a better steward, been able to make it pay off better than he had. He was working on a strain of high yield, disease resistant cattle, with his now tiny herd, but money was so tight that he hadn’t been able to get very far with it. He could sell some of it, he guessed, but his heart balked at the idea of reducing his legacy even further, even if it would provide a lot of ease for him in a lot of ways.
“You’ve been talking to Peggy.”
She looked surprised at first, then remembered her own experiences in her hometown. Everyone knew everyone else’s business. “When I was done getting groceries, I was hungry, so I stopped in to the diner.”
He looked about as angry as she’d seen him.
“Don’t be mad at Peggy. She made a remark about how sad –“ she changed tacks, “what your mother did – and I couldn’t resist asking her about it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Yes, you did,” he countered with neutrality he didn’t feel.
She had the grace to blush a bit. “Well, I plead guilty to wanting to know more about you, and what makes you tick.”
That was a telling confession, and it almost diverted him from being unhappy about her having pumped Peggy for information that, if he’d wanted her to have, he would have given her himself. “Still. I don’t appreciate the fact that you snuck around, asking question about me in town, where everyone knows me, and, since it was Peggy, by now everyone in town will know who did the asking and about what.”
Jayne bit her lip, knowing she had made a major faux pas that she should have been able to avoid – her own experience of small town living wasn’t much different from this, but she hadn’t thought about the repercussions for him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give anyone cause to gossip about you.” By the time he was thirteen he’d probably been the innocent victim of more gossip than most adults, considering his mother’s behavior, and here she’d gone and stirred the pot again. She met his eyes and held them, for the first time in a long time.
And she really, really didn’t like what she saw there.
He was looking down his nose at her – which she’d only just realized had probably been broken several times, considering the various bumps and bulges it sported – with one eyebrow raised. He looked . . . expectant, and she had a good idea what it was that he was waiting for, but hell was going to freeze over before she marched herself to her own doom, and she’d tell him that herself –
“Jayne.”
As he continued to stare back at her, she began to feel as if she couldn’t look away even though she wanted to. He held her eyes with his in the same effortless manner he would soon be employing to hold her in place for a punishment.
“What?” She felt as if she was being hypnotized by those black eyes of his, rapidly losing her usually staunch strength of will.
“What do you think I ought to do about the fact that you spent the afternoon talking to Peggy about me behind my back?”
“I didn’t figure you’d talk to me about it yourself . . .” she whispered, squirming in place as if she was already trying to avoid the swats she knew were minutes away from falling.
He probably wouldn’t have, he thought to himself, but that was not the question. “That doesn’t give you the right to go questioning other people about my personal affairs.”
His use of the word “affairs” had her wondering about the other woman he’d considered for the same position she was supposedly in contention for, but she figured she was already in enough trouble without bringing that up.
“No, but -”
He didn’t even bother to stand, but just kicked her chair abruptly away from the table at the same time he did his own, tugged her near arm, and she landed right where he wanted her – over his lap.
As much as she flailed her arms and legs, trying to get purchase with either the tips of her toes on the floor or her hands on the side of the chair or his leg or anywhere, really, she came up with nothing. He had her perched perfectly, where her hands were too far down to reach back and grab anything, but not far enough so that she could plant them on the floor, and it was the same for her feet. Even kicking up got her nothing but a harder smack to her behind.
And then he reached down and began to tug her pants off.
Why, oh why, had she worn yoga pants? Hadn’t she brought anything with a belt? Preferably a locking belt of some sort?
The answer was that she had, but they were dress pants that she wouldn’t wear it to clean, which is what she’d spent most of her time doing here – cooking and cleaning.
And he didn’t stop there – no matter how she’d prayed that he would and, in a shockingly short amount of time, begged him to. He’d told her before that the next time he spanked her she’d be bare assed, and she had been in bed with him. Apparently he meant that as a general rule, because as soon as he had her heiney exposed, the spanking commenced, and it didn’t end quickly.
It seemed they never did.
He didn’t lecture, but rather concentrated on the task at hand, which mean roasting every bit of her behind, then down the backs of her legs and back up again.
He seemed to have an eerie ability to reduce her to the lowest common denominator of herself, and spankings achieved that more rapidly than making love did. He forced her – in varied ways – to spend long moments concentrating on nothing in the world more than what he was doing to her – whether it was stinging the back of her or pleasuring the front.
Unfortunately for her, this was definitely in the former category, and he didn’t even begin to slow down until her rear was carmine red, with touches where the swats had overlapped that bordered on maroon.
She had long since lost the ability to do much more than croak hoarsely when his palm collided with her cringing flesh, tears falling unheeded to the surprisingly clean carpet beneath and forming a telling, damp spot there.
In the end, she was surprised to feel him shifting her around so that he could hold her on his lap – gingerly with every thought to her comfort – just the opposite of a few moments ago. It felt almost like what she had wanted after they’d made love. He held her there, his cheek on the top of her head, stroking her arm and rocking slightly side to side.
He comforted her, more so than she had ever experienced in her life. Of course, she’d never really been put into a position where she needed all that much comfort – and certainly not for something like this - but this one definitely fit the bill.
When her breathing had slowed to almost normal, he reached out a long finger and tilted her moist face to his, kissing her with excruciating gentleness, then standing to carry her into his room, closing the door behind him and allowing himself that sweet indulgence no one else in his life had ever been able to give him.
And in the long, dark night, he told her about himself, and what had happened. There were no tears, and not even any recriminations against his mother. He just told her the cold, hard facts of the situation. There wasn’t even a big blowout with his father or anything that marked the end of his time with her – she had just said she was going in to town to get some milk and he never saw her again.
Jayne didn’t he even realized how bereaved he sounded as he recounted the facts to her with an eerie calm after the second time he’d made love to her that night.
He didn’t sound bitter, either, although she knew there was a heaping helping of that, too, but more like he’d never had the chance to really mourn the tremendous loss he’d experienced – twice. At least when she’d disappeared the first time, he’d still had his dad and they’d had the ranch to work together. But when she reappeared later on, it had seemed to him as a boy – and to her as an adult – that all she was there for was money. She apparently had made no effort to contact her son in any way when she came back.
She just wanted what money she could get out of his father, regardless of any damage she caused to either of them.
And she did.
He told her how, after that particular blow, his father had declined rapidly, until he’d finally surrendered to a combination of cancer and emphysema when Trieve was just shy of his eighteenth birthday.
“So you’ve been working this place by yourself for all those years?” she asked, so incredulous that she was half sitting up, trying to stare down into his face in the moonlight.
“I had hands helping me at first, but after a while, I couldn’t afford to keep them. I still have a few part timers who’ll come and help me when I need them at round up or whenever.”
Jayne sat up. “If you’ll teach me to ride, I’d be glad to help.”
Trieve put his arm beneath his head as he stared up at her, reaching out to tug on a curl that seemed to like cupping her nipple, not that he could blame it. “Why, thank you, Jaynie, but I wouldn’t be able to get a thing done for worrying about you, honey.”
She humphed, hating to admit that he was probably right. “So what can I do to help? I want to do something . . .”
“You’re already doing it,” he said. “You’re cleaning up the place – you’re feeding me so much I’m not going to be able to swing into the saddle shortly, but more than that, you’re here, in bed with me.” Trieve caught her around the waist and pulled her down on top of him.
As much as she didn’t want to bring it up, she felt she had to. “About that . . .”
He seemed to lose his lovely, tranquil state immediately, seeming on alert and suspicious of whatever it was that she was going to say. “What?”
“Well,” she said, tracing circles around the light hair on his chest, “I just wanted to say that I don’t usually hop into bed with men I’ve just me. I know it’s what everyone is doing – sex is supposed to just be a casual recreational pursuit nowadays, but that’s just not how I’m built – although, apparently, with you, it is how I’m built.”
It was quite an admission – at least as revealing as what he’d admitted to her. But he didn’t want her assuming that he thought she was easy or anything of the sort. Quite the contrary. He’d felt first hand just how relatively untried she was, and that didn’t come from a lifetime of one night stands.
Besides, it wasn’t in her personality to be like that, he could tell just from talking to her and being around her.
He sat up and kissed her, holding her to him as she straddled him, his cock automatically finding its home within her as he did so. “I’m glad you’re that way with me,” he whispered, rocking them to a final culmination that was so slow and soft and sweet and powerful that she practically had tears in her eyes when it ended.
Despite his reservations, he did let her ride out a bit with him, although it was so cold that he made very sure it was a short, easy trip for a beginning rider. She didn’t seem to have any fear of horses, which was good – indeed, she seemed to be extremely excited to learn how to ride. She’d appeared down in the barn long before he’d told her to, saying she wanted to learn how to take care of her horse, too, and he was only too happy to give her a lesson. He gave her outfit the once over, and decided it was okay if you didn’t intend to do much real work, which he didn’t intend to let her do, so that was good, but he did remove her polar bear hat in favor of an old, disreputable knit one that was day-glo orange.
“If you wear that hat out riding, some overeager hunter is going to think you’re the ass end of a deer,” he said as he pulled the horrid cap down over her ears. He had to admit she looked cuter in the other one, but even that eye-popping shade couldn’t dull her looks in the least, as far as he was concerned.
He was down to four horses – although the barn had held twelve when the ranch was at its best, and he thought that Sandy might fit the bill for her. She was a twelve year old mare that was unfailingly even tempered and pretty much bomb proof.
They had a wonderful time together, spending longer than he had intended out in the cold, laughing and talking as if they’d been together for years. He’d shown her some of the ranch, his pride in ownership showing through in his voice as he spoke about what his grandfather and his father before him and on back had fought for and held, prospering in the face of adversity.
Jayne couldn’t miss what he had left unsaid – that he had been unable to do so when he had become the caretaker of their legacy.
They returned to the stables on a more somber note than they had left it, but he showed her how to groom Sandy and put her up in her stall, then he looped his arm around her waist as they walked back into the kitchen to sample some of the chicken and rice concoction she’d put in the slow cooker this morning before breakfast.
Jayne found herself more content here, with him, than she had ever been in her life. She knew that this was where she belonged, where she wanted to be.
But she had a feeling that Trieve might not feel exactly the same way. Oh, he adored the way she cooked, and he was nothing if not inventive and encouraging while she shared his bed, but she still had an overwhelming feeling of doom. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wasn’t going to ask her to stay at the end of the month.
She knew it like she knew her own name.
He was enjoying the time they spent together, but he didn’t – couldn’t - trust her, and she wasn’t at all sure he ever would, even if she ended up staying. And that was no life for either of them.
They settled into a routine of sorts, which was only broken once, the night he took her in to Billings. They ate at the best steak restaurant in town, went to a movie, then dancing. He moved on the dance floor like he rode a horse – both of which he did much better than she did - with a natural sensuality and grace that he oughtn’t have possessed as a big man, and that had her wanting to drag him back to the truck and have her way with him. But it was as if he didn’t really want her to enjoy herself too much while she was staying with him, or perhaps he was embarrassed to have revealed so much about himself to her, but that night, when they returned to his home, he sent her to bed by herself for the first time since she’d gotten there.
It was long, lonely night. She’d wondered if wandering out into the yard again in the middle of the night would entice him to come get her, but she doubted it. As much as they’d enjoyed themselves, she could feel him distancing himself from her, as if in self defense.
She did her best not to nag him – it wasn’t in her nature to do that anyway – but when she did a little investigation while they were in Billings – and she had 4g on her phone, she discovered that he could get internet at the ranch. Granted, it wasn’t lightening fast or unlimited, but he certainly could get it.
And she found herself over his lap yet again for mentioning it one too many times. “I’ll have it put in for you and pay out the two year contract. Come on, where’s the bad in that?” she wailed, knowing what was coming and wondering – every time she ended up here – how she could possibly have thought she’d ever wanted to be spanked! Maybe he was doing it wrong, but she definitely didn’t want him to spank her.
“Jayne.” The truth was that he had had a connection years ago, but it got to be too expensive for him to afford. His old desktop was now tucked into a closet somewhere, forgotten and unused. He would have loved to do it again, but any money he earned went right back into the ranch and his breeding program – nowhere else.
“But -”
The relentless rhythm of those tremendous swats continued as he lectured. “I am not going to let you buy anything more than you already have for me and the ranch. I can barely deal with the idea of the money you’ve already spent while you’ve been here, and I’m not about to let you do any more, internet or not.”
It appeared he was damned serious about it. So much so that she was sitting very gingerly at dinner that night, her lower lip out in a full on pout.
Trieve had to grin to himself. He had had to spank her in order to get her not to spend her own money on something that wouldn’t benefit her for very long – her visit was nearly three quarters gone. And she was still mad that he wouldn’t let her, despite the condition of her backside. He didn’t know very many women – or men – who would be quite that eager to waste their own money.
She was an extraordinary woman. She’d charmed everyone in town, such that when he went down to get his order at the feed and seed, everyone there remarked on what a fine young woman she seemed to be, and that they hoped the two of them would be very happy together. By the time he’d gotten home, he was downright sick of being told how wonderful she was, even though he shared their opinion, mostly.
He had to admit, he hadn’t heard one word of complaint out of her while she’d been here – unlike the first one, who did nothing but find fault with everything she saw. She’d gotten more done in one day than he’d’ve thought someone so small could do. She’d even taken to horseback riding; he’d loved to see her naked excitement when they’d trotted down the lane through the snow.
Hell, he loved to see her naked excitement anywhere or way he could get it.
She was self-deprecatingly funny, she was generous to a fault, and she seemed to genuinely enjoy it out here in the boonies with him and several hundred head of cattle.
But he couldn’t quite manage to convince himself that she would remain that way for very long. She wanted the internet. She’d probably want satellite TV, too, then movies and dinners out, none of which could he afford to give her at this point, and, frankly, he didn’t see things getting a whole lot better any time soon. The idea that she might come to resent that which had brought them together had him balking at the idea of asking her to stay on, to become his wife. He’d lived through that scenario once already and wasn’t eager to repeat it.
Even though he wanted it with every single bit of himself, and letting her get on that plane back to Vermont was going to kill him nearly as much as his mom’s desertion had killed his Dad.
A few nights before the end of their trail month, he surprised her by taking her back to Billings, this time to an all you can eat barbeque restaurant that had been one of his favorites. He knew a lot of people in the city, too, apparently, and there was a constant stream of people stopping by their table to be introduced to her and to tell him how good he looked and how much having a woman around seemed to agree with him. They often gave her the thumbs up sign when they thought he wasn’t looking, as if to tell her that they were on her side, and hoped he’d pick her.
But Jayne knew what this meal was about, and once the traffic around him slowed and stopped, and they had a bit more privacy, she leaned forward and covered his hand with her much smaller one, saying quietly, “I’ve had a wonderful month here with you, Trieve. Thank you for showing me your ranch. It’s a very special place.” She swallowed hard and fiddled with her wine glass, ruthlessly forcing the tears that had flooded her eyes to retreat so that when she looked up at him, it was with a genuine, soft – albeit small – smile on her face and lied through her teeth. “But I don’t think I could be happy here in the long term. There are none of the amenities I’m used to, even in the back hills of Vermont.”
It was as good an excuse as any, she supposed.
She knew she was confirming everything he already thought about her; telling him exactly what she knew he wanted to hear, although she really wanted nothing more than to scream at him to tell her she was dead wrong, she knew he wasn’t capable of doing that. He’d been too hurt, too deep, for too long to quite believe that she wasn’t going to decide one day that life on a ranch just wasn’t exciting enough for her. She would have loved nothing better than to spend the rest of her life with him, having his babies and cooking and cleaning for the lot of them, but she didn’t have much interest in living under a cloud of suspicion, either, having him constantly wondering when she was going to up and leave him.
The fairy tale she wanted – of them riding off into the sunset to the ranch they rebuilt together - wasn’t going to happen, and she was doing her best to accept that, and to preempt anything he might say about it in favor of being able to control when her heart was carved out of her chest with a melon baller.