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Love of a Cowboy 1 Page 24


  Life seemed to be getting back to something akin to normal, Morgan thought as she kneaded a loaf of sourdough bread the next day. She continued the children’s lessons after dinner most days, unless there was a lot of work to do in the field. Lee struggled with the alphabet for weeks on end, and Bridget passed him up. She was exceptionally bright, catching on quick. Morgan felt like asking her to help teach Lee, as there simply was not enough hours in the day to teach everyone, but she knew Lee would resent that. Morgan finally set the books aside, figuring she’d wait until winter locked them inside for days on end, before trying again. And just maybe Jack would join Lee for the lessons.

  Everything was normal again, except her relationship with Jack. She still felt he was like a stranger to her. Often moody, sometimes irritable. Sullen and silent. Strict with the children and with her. So one night, when all the children were asleep, she woke him. “Jack, talk to me,” she demanded.

  “Go t’ sleep, wife,” he grumbled.

  “No,” she said deliberately.

  He grunted a warning and tried to return to sleep, but she gave him a shove. “No, no, no! I’ll say it to you a thousand times! But you’re going to talk to me now. I want you back. All of you.”

  The shaft of moonlight spilling through the window illumined the scowl on his face. “I’ll give ye one last warning, wife. Ye’ve got a lot of spankings lined up for using that word wi’ me.”

  “Good. I’ll say it again. NO! And I’ll say it every day, for the rest of my life, until you make love to me again.”

  His mouth dropped, and she felt his desire spring to life. “Be it naught too soon?” he asked, stroking her belly with a callused palm. She’d lost the weight she’d gained, but the skin was still a little flabby there. She swatted at his hand, not wanting him to notice that her never-youthful body had gained a few more wrinkles.

  He swatted her hand back. Then he pressed a kiss to her stomach. “I love ye, wife. An’ I love seeing yer belly full wi’ me babe. Don’t ever hide it from me again.”

  “But we have enough children now, don’t we?” she whispered. She loved every one of them. She wouldn’t change a single thing, even if she had the power of God to do so. But how many children could they be expected to raise? The little cabin was already crowded.

  “We’ll raise ev’ry child God sees fit ta give us,” Jack said simply. “The good people of the church promised to help whene’er we need.”

  “And you’re okay with that? You’ll take their charity?”

  Jack nodded. He sat up, looking down at her intently. “If I had six wee ones o’ me own, t’would be wrong t’ take their money. But the bairn weren’t me own flesh and blood, tho’ I couldn’a love ‘em more if they was. I figure the money is for them, not me. An’ I’ll not be too proud to let them use it. They’ve had so much pain in their wee lives.”

  “I’m proud of you, Jackie O’Shea,” Morgan whispered hoarsely. She blinked quickly, wiping away a stray tear.

  He kissed her belly again. “Ye say ‘tis no’ too soon to be puttin’ another bairn in there?”

  Morgan giggled, the rough scratch of his beard scraping at her tender flesh. “You’d better hurry up and get back to practicing, before I’m too old to bear you another child.”

  Jack satisfied her immediately. And then a second time before dawn came. He took her again in the woodshed after the second of the hundred spankings he’d promised her. Then he took her beside the pool where she went to bathe. They practiced all summer long, at every opportunity, and when Morgan began to put weight on around her middle again, she simply smiled. Life was good again.

  The End

  Courage Knight

  I started writing stories in First Grade. I had a wonderful teacher, the rare breed that inspired and nurtured me. She was a published author of children’s books, and I – being perhaps a bit of a teacher’s pet – read every one of them.

  I came from a large family, fourth out of five children, and shared a bedroom with my younger sister. She would pester me to tell her stories every night at bedtime. I whispered them to her, as we were supposed to go right to sleep. Invariably, she would fall asleep on my stories, but every night she begged me to tell her more. Sometimes her inattention irritated me, but it also gave me the opportunity to rewind and tell a favorite part of the story again – great practice for the rewriting process.

  While raising my own brood of munchkins, I didn’t write much of anything although I was gathering experience. I read whenever I could find five minutes to myself. I took a few workshops and courses, and I sold some nonfiction articles, but it wasn’t until 1998 when I really began writing fiction. My husband took a job in another state. I stayed behind with the children and tried to get ready for a move. The days were filled and busy, but the nights were long and lonely. I poured out my soul on the keyboard, and one night I uploaded a fan fiction novel to a fan website. The Internet was still something new to me – we’d had a computer for years, but had just joined the “world-wide web”. Within days, I had over 200 emails from adoring fans pouring into my inbox.

  And that is how my writing career began.

  We bought a home, I moved in with my darling husband, got the children settled in the new neighborhood – but still wrangled time out of my hectic schedule to fulfill this deep need to put thoughts to paper and spin my tales. Over the next two years, I wrote 22 full-length novels of fan fiction. Then I branched off and started writing romance. Perhaps I’ve put another generation of Internet little sisters to sleep.

  Visit my website here:

  www.CourageKnight.com

  Don’t miss these exciting titles by Courage Knight and Blushing Books!

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  The Marriage Counselor, Jase and Ally’s Story Book 3

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  Johnny’s Bride

  The Marshal’s Rebellious Bride

  By

  Starla Kaye

  ©2013 by Blushing Books® and Starla Kaye

  Copyright © 2013 by Blushing Books® and Starla Kaye

  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.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Kaye, Starla

  The Marshal’s Rebellious Bride

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-006-7

  Cover Design by edhgraphics.blogspot.com

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books’ or the author’s advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Prologue

 
Wakefield Ranch, Kansas

  September 1876

  Whiskey raced up the porch steps, her chest drumming in excitement. She sped into the large entry of her family’s two-story Victorian house and wished it was smaller so she would be easily heard. Frustrated, she raised her voice and yelled, “Taos! Keno!”

  She waited a second to see if anyone had heard her. Impatience had her tapping her right foot. Nothing.

  Then a muffled sound came from the second floor. A footstep?

  Eager to share her news, she lifted her long skirt and hurried up the staircase. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. This was the best day of her life!

  “Keno! Taos!” she called out when she reached the landing.

  Again there was no response.

  She stopped in the upstairs hallway between her older brothers’ rooms to catch her breath and listen once more.

  Silence. The house must have just been settling again. Disappointment weighed her down. Dagnabit! She had the most wonderful announcement to make and nobody to listen to it!

  Shoulders slumping, she started to turn back toward the stairway. All right, maybe she couldn’t tell either of her brothers right this minute. But surely one of the ranch hands was around somewhere. By golly, someone was going to listen to her! She hadn’t ridden her horse near to death from Dodge City to not find someone—anyone—on the ranch to tell her news to.

  A thud came from Keno’s room, followed by a man’s deep voice grumbling, “Damn.”

  She dashed down the hallway to the closed door and rapped once. Too agitated to wait for a response, she yelled, “I’m getting married!”

  Still no response.

  Irritated beyond her nearly nonexistent patience, she pushed the door open without waiting for an invitation just as she’d done a thousand times in her nineteen years of life. “Didn’t you hear me? I said I’m getting married!”

  She was in mid-step into the room when she froze. Her eyes widened. “Who the hell are you?”

  A mountain of a man sat on the side of the rumpled feather bed wearing only a pair of red long johns and rubbing a toe he’d apparently stubbed. Thick, unruly black hair dusted wide shoulders. At least a day’s worth—probably more—of beard stubble covered carved cheeks and a strong jaw tight with annoyance. Dark blue eyes pinned her in place. His fierce expression would have intimidated a meeker female, but she’d grown up with two brothers who could get pretty testy at times.

  She simply returned his scowl, putting her hands on her hips. “I repeat, who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my brother’s bedroom?”

  He stood. Good Lord! He was even taller than her brothers, who towered over most men in town. Taller than any man she’d ever met. And, oh my, he certainly filled out those long johns quite well. For the first time that she could remember, she felt a blush clear to the roots of her hair. She shouldn’t be noticing another man’s private parts—even as spectacular as they appeared to be, at least from what she could see. She was an engaged woman now.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. Her heart pounded harder than when she’d sped into the house. She felt a bit lightheaded and felt a tingling low in her belly. She blushed even more.

  The remarkable mountain stepped toward her on long, muscled legs. His back was rigid and he ground his jaw, seemed to be struggling with his temper. She stiffened her knees to not back away and wished the heat would leave her face.

  He raised one dark eyebrow as if he were surprised that she hadn’t fled the room at his approach. Then he looked down at her and growled—yes, his voice was as deep as a bear’s growl she’d once heard, “Morgan. Morgan Rydell.” He appeared to stand even taller, squared his impressive shoulders. “Get out. Now.”

  She stood inflexibly in place although her insides roiled with nerves and she dropped her hands from her hips. This was her family’s house, her brother’s room. “No! You get out. Now.”

  Shock flashed in his expression, apparently not used to being not instantly obeyed. “I’m not dressed.”

  She rolled her eyes and then looked pointedly at him, sweeping her gaze over his less-than-properly clad body. “You think I haven’t noticed that?”

  His jaw tightened and a vein pulsed in his thick neck. The man clearly had trouble controlling his temper, much like she did at times. Except she paid the price for losing her temper on a fairly regular basis by getting her backside warmed. She doubted few people ever took on this man or ever thought to tell him to calm down.

  “Don’t you have any sense at all?” He looked ready to pick her up and toss her out of the room. Yet something more than irritation heated his eyes. His nostrils flared as he seemed to draw in a ragged breath. She’d seen her fiancé react like this after he’d dared to kiss her that one time.

  Now she did take a step back. She should not be feeling a warmth building inside her. She should not have this tremendous urge to reach up and push that one intriguing dark curl off his forehead. She definitely should not want to feel his lips pressed against hers!

  He moved forward again. Huge. The man is huge.

  She held her ground, but her gaze shifted down his body for an instant. Her cheeks heated even more as she noted that “his man parts” appeared to be even bigger. She had seen her brothers in long johns—a time or two in even less, which she didn’t like to think about. But she couldn’t remember them looking like this. Maybe she hadn’t noticed because they were her brothers.

  She tried to pull her gaze away from his “endowments,” but it was difficult. Oh my, oh my! She licked her lips.

  Did he groan? No, it had sounded more like a curse, something a lady shouldn’t hear.

  She closed her eyes to gather her wits. Ace. Think about Ace. His youthfully handsome face flashed into her mind. And, yes, he was still a young man in comparison to this steal-her-breath-away mature man standing all too close to her. Did Ace have such impressive…um…man parts? If not now, would he mature into…

  She sucked in an annoyed breath. What was she doing? Admiring another man was wrong. It made her angry…with this stranger, with herself.

  She inched back into the hallway. “Where is my brother? Why are you in his room?”

  The door slammed in her face. “Both of your brothers are in town, I reckon. Go away,” he gritted out. Again, he seemed to have muttered something not suitable for a decent young woman such as herself to hear.

  She curled her hands into fists at the sides of her riding skirt and stomped a foot. “I want you out of Keno’s room. Out of this house.” She reached for the doorknob, ready to battle him, as outrageously stupid as that was since it’d be like taking on an immovable mountain. “I’ll fetch my gun if I have to,” she added boldly.

  “Go away, brat.” To her surprise, it sounded like he jammed the chair that had been sitting next to the door under the doorknob.

  “Brat?” She kicked at the door, winced at the pain in her toes. Sure, her brothers called her that all the time. But this was a stranger! She would not put up with such rudeness. “You need to leave.”

  She tried to shoulder the door open, only to end up wincing and rubbing her shoulder. The door hadn’t moved at all. He must be standing by it or the chair and holding it shut.

  “Trust me, Brat, you don’t want to take me on. Now go away!”

  He was right; she really didn’t want to take him on. She would lose and she hated losing. Besides, she’d come here for a reason: to tell her brothers about Ace proposing today, about her accepting.

  Dang it! She hadn’t thought to check out their saloon before she left town. She’d been sure they would be here since Taos was getting ready to leave for Texas again tomorrow. He would be reporting in for a new assignment as U.S. Marshal. They had argued last night about his leaving again. She worried every time he put on his badge, every time he rode away from the ranch. So wasn’t it ironic that she’d agreed to marry Ace, a deputy in Dodge City.

  She sighed, momentarily forgetting the man inside Keno’
s room. She smiled, thinking about Ace. He was so handsome, so absolutely wonderful. Love was so amazing.

  With that marvelous thought lightening her spirit, she tried to put the confrontation with the irritating stranger aside. Her brothers could deal with him. She turned toward the stairs.

  Wait! Rydell? She froze.

  Now she remembered. He was the big, bad Texan who’d teamed up with Taos a couple of years back as U.S. Marshal. The man was legendary. Dangerous. She’d sensed that herself at first glance, yet she hadn’t been frightened of him. At least his size and his just-dare-me attitude didn’t have her shaking in her shoes. No, he frightened her in a more basic way. Morgan Rydell was a man who would love hard and be hard to love. Somehow she just knew that.

  Ace loved her and she loved him. Their love was pure and simple, nothing hard about it.

  She hurried down the stairs determined to get far away from Marshal Rydell, determined to ride all the way back to town and find her brothers. She had to share her wonderful news. Now. Right now.

  Chapter One

  Lincoln County, New Mexico Territory

  April 1878

  Morgan shivered against the gust of early spring wind that circled around him. His partner turned up the collar on his jacket. It wasn’t the coolness that bothered him. Something prophetic, something ominous rode within the breeze and whistled through the towering pines that lined the narrow path snaking between the mountains leading to Sierra Blanca. He couldn’t explain why, but he somehow knew his life would change today.

  Not liking that notion, he went back to studying the area. Gray shadows on one wall of the mountains seemed to darken as if evil hid in the dense green underbrush. He tensed and gripped the reins tighter with one hand. He reached down to undo the safety flap over his Colt with the other hand.

  “You feel it, too, don’t you?” Taos Wakefield asked, drawing Morgan’s gaze. “I’ve been uneasy ever since we started into this valley.”

  Morgan nodded and looked away. “Trouble ahead. My gut tells me so.” His instincts were seldom wrong. They were what had kept him alive this long.