will like me?" she asked in concern.
"I’m sure of it," he told her, and then helped her clear the table and do the dishes. It was still too early to go to bed,
and Will found he couldn’t bear the thought of lying beside
her and not touching her. It would be better to stay up late
and write a letter to his parents. It would give Bridget time
to fall sound asleep.
Bridget tried to hide her disappointment when Will sat at
his desk instead of taking her hand and leading her into the
bedroom. She told herself to be patient, and picked up her
embroidery. She sat quietly and stitched until her eyes
started feeling heavy.
"Go on to bed, Bridget, before you fall asleep sitting there,"
Will suggested when he saw her head nod.
Finally! "Yes, Will," she agreed, and went into the
bedroom to prepare herself. She changed into a pretty gown
she’d been saving, and then brushed her long red hair until
it shone, and then climbed into bed to wait for Will. After
an hour, she gave up waiting, and cried herself to sleep,
only to wake up angry when she saw Will had come to bed
and was sleeping soundly!
How dare he!!!! she fumed, and then jumped out of bed to
stand glaring down at him. Without stopping to think of his
reaction, she put her hands under the mattress, and with a
strength she didn’t know she possessed, she gave the
mattress a flip, neatly throwing Will off the bed to land on
the floor with a loud thump!
"What the hell?" Will sputtered angrily, then turned to find Bridget standing on the other side of the bed, her hands on
her hips, and her green eyes flashing dangerously.
"You don’t want a wife, Will Bishop! You want a damned
housekeeper!!!" she accused, and in the next instant, she
picked up the pitcher of water off the washstand and threw
the contents all over him. "I’m not staying in this house
another second, and if you don’t like it, too damned bad!"
she screamed, giving vent to the rage she felt. She grabbed
her pants from the drawer of the dresser, only to have them
ripped out of her hands and tossed across the room.
"Let me go!" she fought against Will’s grasp on her wrist, but he easily dragged her over to the rocking chair in the
corner, and in the next second she found herself draped
over his left knee. In the next instant, his hand landed on
her bottom. "Owww!"
"You little brat!" Will scolded, and then abruptly realized what he was doing. He immediately put her on her feet.
"I’m sorry, Bridget. I swore I wasn’t going to do that ever
again. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey," he apologized.
"I am not scared of you, Will Bishop!" Bridget kicked him hard to prove her point.
"Damn it, Bridget!" Will rubbed his leg while struggling with his temper. "Don’t tell me that! You went running to
your Pa today because I was too damned hard on you two
weeks ago!" he said in a chilling voice. "But if ever I saw a woman who needed a spanking, it’s you, Mrs. Bishop! And
I’m damned tempted right now, so stop pushing."
"I didn’t go running to Papa because you spanked me, Will
Bishop! How could you say something so stupid?" she
ranted, then took a handful of his hair and gave it a good
jerk!
Will reached up and removed her hand from his hair, then
stood to tower over her, holding her close to his body. "You
go too far, little girl."
"I don’t care!" she hissed. "I’m tired of being little more than a housekeeper! If you don’t want a wife, then send me
home and I’ll get this farce of a marriage annulled!" She
brought the heel of her right foot down on his bare toes,
and then smirked when he let go of her to grab his foot and
howl in pain. "I am not scared of you, either!!! I’m damned
mad! I’m tired of trying and trying to please you. Hellsfire,
you didn’t even care that I wore pants over to Papa’s
your own cooking, or wash your own clothes!!! You can
hire a woman to do those things, Will Bishop! But I will
not be ignored any longer! Either you want a wife or you
don’t! Make up your mind, damn it!" She picked up the
empty water pitcher and heaved it at him.
Will ducked, and heard the pitcher shatter as it hit the wall
behind him. "All of this is because I didn’t make love to
you, woman?" he demanded angrily.
"Well, it’s sure as hell not because I’m scared of you,
Mister Bishop!" she railed at him.
"I was waiting on you to say something," he said quietly.
"I did say something. I told you I was ready…" she argued.
"Yes… and then I punished you severely… I thought you’d
changed your mind," he admitted.
"I thought you punished me because you cared about me,
Will?" she questioned.
"I do care about you, Bridget." He stepped toward her and his large hands wrapped around her upper arms as he held
her. "I’m in love with you," he admitted, "and I want you to be my wife. I’ve wanted that for quite a while now."
"Then what have we been waiting for?" she asked
invitingly.
"Are you sure, Bridget?" he asked softly.
"I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life," she
responded.
"And you weren’t upset because I spanked you?" he
persisted.
"No, I deserved it," she shocked him by admitting.
"And you wore the pants deliberately to get a rise out of me
today?" he asked knowingly.
"Yes!" she giggled, and then her eyes widened as she got a good look at his expression. "Will… No…..!" she shook
her head, but in seconds he’d taken a seat on the rocking
chair and pushed her gown up to reveal her bottom.
"Nooooo!" she begged.
"Pants!" he smacked her sharply. "Deliberately…" another smack. "Dumping me out of bed!" SPANK! "Dousing me
with water!" SPANK!!
"Owwwww! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!!!" she pleaded. His
hand was hard, and her bottom was already on fire!
"Kicking me!" SPANK! "Pulling hair!" SPANK!!
"Throwing the pitcher!" SPANK! "Tantrums!" SPANK!!
SPANK!!! "Swearing!" SPANK!!! SPANK!!! SPANK!!!
"Are you ready to behave now?" he asked hoarsely.
"Yes, oh yes, Will! Please!! I am sorry!" she proclaimed without hesitation. In the next instant she found herself
flipped over and cuddled in his arms as he kissed her
tenderly. Will was pleased with her response to his kisses.
He sensed she was holding nothing back, and truly wanted
him to continue making love to her. Will carried her over to
their bed, and after tugging the mattress back into place, he
gently laid her down.
Bridget felt no shame as Will touched her most intimate
places, and seductively turned her passions into a need that
demanded complete surrender. When he finally entered her,
she was more than ready, and even the brief pain of losing
her virginity was soon kissed away as he brought them to
sweet ecstasy.
Will enjoyed Bridget’s blushes as she made breakfast for
the two of the
m, and he couldn’t resist whispering a few
naughty suggestions in her ear before he slipped out the
kitchen door to tend the stock. His lovely redhead was a
passionate woman, and he couldn’t be more pleased!!
Bridget hummed as she baked cookies, while wondering if
Will really did intend to make love to her again when he
came in for the noon meal. She was so engrossed in her
pleasant daydreams that she was unaware she wasn’t alone
until the bag was dropped over her head and body,
effectively pinning her arms. She kicked and struggled as
her attacker attempted to pick her up, and in the next instant
a pain exploded in her jaw, and the world went black…
Chapter Seven
The throbbing in her jaw was painful, and Bridget tried to reach
up to touch herself, but found she couldn’t move her hands. Her
green eyes flew open as her memory came flooding back in a
painful rush. She’d been baking cookies for Will, and someone
threw a bag over her head, and she couldn’t breathe… or see
who her attacker was… and suddenly, the pain in her jaw… and
blackness. Her hands were tied above her head, and she was
helpless and at the mercy of whoever took her… She struggled
to free herself, but the ropes bit into her wrists.
"You aren’t going anywhere, my pet, so you can just stop tugging at those ropes," a familiar sounding voice called to her from somewhere out of her vision. "It’s payback time!"
"Who the hell are you?" Bridget demanded angrily, and then snorted derisively when the man stepped to the side of the cot.
"You! Okay, you’ve had your fun. Untie me now."
"I don’t think you understand, my pet. You aren’t in charge
here… I am."
"You are nothing but a pathetic, whining pile of horse dung!" she informed him, her contempt for him evident in her glittering green eyes and sarcastic tone of voice. "Let me go or I’ll take a
horsewhip to you!" she promised.
"You owe me, my pet, and I’m going to collect, starting right now." He leaned down to kiss her and Bridget spit in his face.
"You bitch!" he wiped the spittle away with the sleeve of his shirt, then drew back his fist and struck her again. He stood looking at
the unconscious woman for a couple minutes, then said, "I want you awake and screaming when I have you, bitch… And I will
have you, over and over. You owe me…"
*****
Will saw the black smoke rolling out of the open kitchen window
as he rode into the yard. He jumped off King’s back and ran into
the house. "Bridget!?" he called out, hurrying over to open the oven door and remove the charred smoldering cookies. He
rushed the pan out the back door and threw it into the yard, then
returned to look for his wife. "Bridget, where are you?" he demanded, looking all over for her, and not finding a trace. He
checked the cellar, and she wasn’t there either, and a cursory
inspection of the other buildings came up empty. Sampson was
still in his stal , so he knew she hadn’t gone anywhere. He went
back inside the house, and finally spotted a letter lying on the
table beside the half empty bowl of cookie dough. He opened the
envelope and removed a single piece of paper and read:
"Get $10,000 from Bridget’s old man and you come alone to
deliver it in the hollowed out tree at Parson’s Creek by tomorrow
noon, or she dies."
Will crumpled the note and threw it on the table. He quickly
debated going to Flynn O’Riley, and immediately discounted the
idea. Whoever took Bridget was counting on him to be afraid,
and to follow orders. Will wasn’t about to leave his tiny wife to
their mercy while he ran to her father for help. His decision
made, Will mounted and started looking for tracks.
*****
This time when Bridget regained consciousness, she didn’t open
her eyes. She needed time to think. It was clear the man was
demented and intended to rape her, and she was just as
determined it wasn’t going to happen. She was going to have to
use her brain, and control her temper, no matter how much he
baited her. She belonged to Will, and she wasn’t going to let
anyone take what belonged to her husband.
"I know you’re awake, my pet. I’ve been watching you the whole time you’ve been unconscious. I’m not as stupid as you all like to think I am."
"I never thought you were stupid, Dude," she denied, trying to make her voice sound sympathetic.
"You don’t even know my real name, do you? Never bothered to
call me anything but Dude… You and your whole family, looking
down your noses at me like I’m dirt on the damned floor."
"That’s not true," Bridget argued gently, while racking her brain to remember his name. For the life of her, she could NOT
remember…! William, Walter… no… Wally… Waldo! Yes!!!
"Your name is Waldo," she said through swollen lips.
"Do you know how much I hate being called ‘Dude’?" he whined in a singsong voice. "It wasn’t nice of you and your family to stick that name on me, Bridget. And it wasn’t nice of you to leave me
standing in front of all those people in the church, either. I
wanted to marry you! But you ran away… and made me a
laughing stock." He paced the floor of the tiny cabin, then whirled to face her, "You standing there so beautiful, and pretty, and me so proud to have you for my wife… planning to be so good to
you, but did you even give me a chance, my pet? No. You ran off
and left me standing there alone to face all those laughing
people!"
"I’m sorry, Waldo. I didn’t do it to embarrass you. I just didn’t want to marry anyone, and Papa was making me. I didn’t mean it
personally," she told him, tugging on the ropes again and finding they were still snug.
"You married Will Bishop though!" he accused. "Your old man gave you a choice between him and me, and I saw the look on
your face when you picked him. You wanted him… and everyone
knows it!" He paced some more, and then said, "Do you know what I’m going to do, my pet? I’m going to kill him! He deserves
to die for taking what was mine!"
"No!" she exclaimed in horror.
"And I’m going to have you first, so I can tell him, and it will be the last thing on his mind when he dies…" he approached the
bed. "Don’t spit at me again, Bridget. I’ll cut you if you do."
She saw the knife in his hands, and the maniacal gleam in his
eyes, and prayed for help. "Waldo, none of this is Will’s fault. It’s Papa’s," she said in a reasoning tone of voice.
"He’s the one who made everyone think badly of you."
"And now he will pay for it," Waldo boasted. "He is going to pay me to get you back… and no one is ever going to want his
precious little girl again." He twirled the knife in his hand.
"Waldo, you don’t really want to hurt me, do you? If Papa gives you money, we can go away together… back east… I’m sure
people respect you there, and we could start a business of some
sort!" she suggested.
"Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe you want to go away with me, Bridget? You passed me over for Will Bishop. I know
better. I’m through talking."
He started toward her again and Bridget tensed her body and
said, "If you touch me, Will is going to kill you. And if he doesn’t, Papa will."
Waldo laughed humorlessly, then grabbed her shirtwaist and
ripped all the buttons off. At that moment the cabin door crashed
open, and Will stepped inside. Waldo raised the knife, ready to
plunge it into Bridget, and in the next instant Will drew and fired.
The knife clattered from Waldo’s lifeless fingers, and his body
crumpled to a heap on top of Bridget.
Will unceremoniously pulled the body off his sobbing wife, and
dumped it on the floor so he could get to Bridget. "It’s okay, honey. You’re safe now," he said quietly, pulling his own knife and using it to cut the ropes binding her to the cot. He gathered
her close and let her cry. "You’re safe, honey."
"He was insane, Will. He was planning to kill you!"
"Did he hurt you, honey?" Will asked quietly, feeling a sense of déjà vu from the time she was captured by the Comanche.
"My face hurts. He punched me twice," she answered
indignantly, then added, "He was going to rape me… and cut
me," she shivered. "This is the second time you’ve saved me, Will."
"We need to get you out of here and have the Doctor look at you, honey. We’re closer to your Pa’s place, so we’ll go there and
send for the Sheriff."
"I don’t want Papa to see me like this, Will," she argued, but Will simply picked her up and headed outside. She was surprised to
realize that the sun was going down. Will lifted her up on the
saddle, and then mounted behind her. He wasn’t surprised when
she lost consciousness again, and he worried all the way to the
O’Riley Ranch.
"My God, what’s happened to her, boy?" Flynn demanded when he opened the door to find Will standing there holding an
unconscious Bridget in his arms.
"We need Doc and the Sheriff, Sir. Can you send someone?" he asked as he started up the steps to Bridget’s old room. He gently
laid her on the bed, and started undressing her, looking for other injuries. He’d barely covered her nude body with a sheet and
blanket when Flynn stormed in the room. Consuela was right
behind him, and Will asked her to please get some water.
"Who done this to my girl, Will?" Flynn demanded in a seething rage.
"The Dude," Will answered shortly. "He took her right out of the kitchen while she was baking cookies… Left a ransom note for
you… I trailed him, and got there just in time to keep him from