were warm. She grabbed a dishrag to move the hot stew from the fire to the table.
But in her haste, Annie turned too quickly with the hot pan; it caught the edge of the hearth and fell from her hand, landing on the floor with the contents spilling everywhere. It was a huge mess, not to mention a waste of food. Rafe came through the back door just as the pan hit the floor and just in time to hear Annie let loose with a choice of phrase that he had only previously heard in a saloon.
Rafe slammed the door to announce his presence with such force that the connecting wall shook. Annie froze at the sound. Another choice phrase entered her head at that moment, but she was wise enough not to speak it out loud.
“What did you just say?”
Annie didn’t need to turn around to know what look was on Rafe’s face. She could tell by the tone of his voice. Low, controlled yet almost like a growl. She turned around anyway. “Do you really want me to say it again?” Annie honestly wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or he hadn’t actually heard her clearly and wanted to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. Rafe crossed the room to Annie in a flash and, grabbing her upper arm with one hand, used his other to plant three fast hard wallops to her backside. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes. How could just his hand on top of her clothing still hurt so much?
“Now is not the time to sass me.” Rafe spoke in a slow menacing tone. He couldn’t believe what had just come out of her mouth. “Where did you learn that kind of talk?” When she didn’t immediately answer him, Rafe landed two more wallops with his hand, making Annie cry out.
“Ow-w! That hurts!”
“Answer me,” Rafe demanded. “Where did you learn language like that?” Annie had to really think for a minute, which earned her another two swats of Rafe’s very hard, large hand.
“I-I don’t really remember exactly,” Annie cried. She tried to squirm out of Rafe’s grasp, but he had a firm grip on her. “Wasn’t just one place in particular – ow, Rafe, ow – stop it!” Rafe walloped her backside as she answered him, and then a few more times when she stopped talking. He then turned her to face him and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“You will clean up this mess,” he ordered, “while I decide on an appropriate punishment. One that will hopefully keep you from ever letting words like those past your lips again.” He turned her around and swatted her behind, hard, one last time for emphasis. “Get to it!”
Annie rubbed her backside to ease the sting with one hand and used the other to wipe the tears from her eyes. An appropriate punishment? And what was the spanking she just got? If Rafe didn’t consider that an appropriate punishment, she was worried what he would deem appropriate. She couldn’t stop crying as she set about cleaning up the mess from the dropped pan.
She hadn’t meant to say that, but sometimes things just come out. Maybe if she could just explain that to Rafe, maybe he would understand and not punish her. Annie could hear him pacing back and forth in the other room, busy trying to think of an “appropriate punishment,” apparently. She had finished cleaning up and stood just wringing her hands and worrying over her punishment, and waiting.
Finally, Rafe emerged from the bedroom and without even glancing Annie’s way, headed straight for the washbasin. He stood for a minute with his back to her, looking out the window that was directly over it. Then Annie saw him reach out and place his hand over the bar of soap that sat on a small dish on a small shelf under the window. When he turned around to face her, he had soap in his hand.
Annie’s eyes locked on that bar of soap and she immediately knew what was coming. “No, Rafe,” Annie pleaded, “please not that – please!”
“This needs to be something that you won’t forget,” Rafe stated sternly. He knew better than to be swayed by her pleas. Of course,
But in her haste, Annie turned too quickly with the hot pan; it caught the edge of the hearth and fell from her hand, landing on the floor with the contents spilling everywhere. It was a huge mess, not to mention a waste of food. Rafe came through the back door just as the pan hit the floor and just in time to hear Annie let loose with a choice of phrase that he had only previously heard in a saloon.
Rafe slammed the door to announce his presence with such force that the connecting wall shook. Annie froze at the sound. Another choice phrase entered her head at that moment, but she was wise enough not to speak it out loud.
“What did you just say?”
Annie didn’t need to turn around to know what look was on Rafe’s face. She could tell by the tone of his voice. Low, controlled yet almost like a growl. She turned around anyway. “Do you really want me to say it again?” Annie honestly wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or he hadn’t actually heard her clearly and wanted to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. Rafe crossed the room to Annie in a flash and, grabbing her upper arm with one hand, used his other to plant three fast hard wallops to her backside. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes. How could just his hand on top of her clothing still hurt so much?
“Now is not the time to sass me.” Rafe spoke in a slow menacing tone. He couldn’t believe what had just come out of her mouth. “Where did you learn that kind of talk?” When she didn’t immediately answer him, Rafe landed two more wallops with his hand, making Annie cry out.
“Ow-w! That hurts!”
“Answer me,” Rafe demanded. “Where did you learn language like that?” Annie had to really think for a minute, which earned her another two swats of Rafe’s very hard, large hand.
“I-I don’t really remember exactly,” Annie cried. She tried to squirm out of Rafe’s grasp, but he had a firm grip on her. “Wasn’t just one place in particular – ow, Rafe, ow – stop it!” Rafe walloped her backside as she answered him, and then a few more times when she stopped talking. He then turned her to face him and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“You will clean up this mess,” he ordered, “while I decide on an appropriate punishment. One that will hopefully keep you from ever letting words like those past your lips again.” He turned her around and swatted her behind, hard, one last time for emphasis. “Get to it!”
Annie rubbed her backside to ease the sting with one hand and used the other to wipe the tears from her eyes. An appropriate punishment? And what was the spanking she just got? If Rafe didn’t consider that an appropriate punishment, she was worried what he would deem appropriate. She couldn’t stop crying as she set about cleaning up the mess from the dropped pan.
She hadn’t meant to say that, but sometimes things just come out. Maybe if she could just explain that to Rafe, maybe he would understand and not punish her. Annie could hear him pacing back and forth in the other room, busy trying to think of an “appropriate punishment,” apparently. She had finished cleaning up and stood just wringing her hands and worrying over her punishment, and waiting.
Finally, Rafe emerged from the bedroom and without even glancing Annie’s way, headed straight for the washbasin. He stood for a minute with his back to her, looking out the window that was directly over it. Then Annie saw him reach out and place his hand over the bar of soap that sat on a small dish on a small shelf under the window. When he turned around to face her, he had soap in his hand.
Annie’s eyes locked on that bar of soap and she immediately knew what was coming. “No, Rafe,” Annie pleaded, “please not that – please!”
“This needs to be something that you won’t forget,” Rafe stated sternly. He knew better than to be swayed by her pleas. Of course,
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