“I want to know,” I pleaded.
Shane and Roscoe looked at each other and sighed. What were they hiding from me?
“The fire destroyed my smithy,” Shane said sadly. “But I can rebuild. I think some of it will be salvageable. Thanks to the hailstorm, the fire didn’t spread any further. No homes or lives were lost.”
“But the hailstorm ruined my crop,” Roscoe growled bitterly. “All that work…. Gone. Just like that.” Emotions I didn’t recognize flitted across his face. What was he thinking? Despair, obviously. But what else? I couldn’t tell. Insecurity? Uncertainty? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t good at reading men. Lady Margaret’s School for Girls had taught me to stay out of men’s affairs. Ladies were to occupy themselves with other things and let the menfolk take care of business. But I had money, and I wanted to help. By the sounds of things, my men had lost pretty much everything, and it was all my fault.
“I have money,” I told them. “Four Gold Eagles. It was all I could hide from John. I sewed it into the lining of my skirt, the one I wore when you found me. I want you to have them. Buy more seed, or whatever it is you need.”
“We don’t need your money,” Shane snarled, sounding insulted, and I looked up at him, wounded. I didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t he let me help? Was it pride? I knew all about male pride and how dangerous it could be. I’d seen it in John. And in Mr. Yates. I had no idea it inflicted my husbands as well.
“Why not? It’s my fault the crop was ruined.”
“You control the weather, do you?”
I couldn’t help but grin. Shane had a point. I couldn’t control the weather any more than I could hold back the tide. But the fire… if I hadn’t left Philadelphia, if I hadn’t run away from Mr. Yates, Shane’s smithy would still be standing. Of that, I was certain.
“The fire was my fault,” I insisted. “If I had just gone along with what John wanted and married Mr. Yates…”
Shane cut me off. “No.” He grabbed my upper arm and hauled me up out of the water roughly, so I was standing up in the tub. He held me steady. “No don’t say that,” he growled. “Not ever.”
Before I could react, he drew back his hand and spanked my wet bare bottom sharply, one, two, three times. The spanking was not as hard as the one he’d given me on the prairie, but on wet skin, in my fragile state, it stung. I cried out as tears filled my eyes. Shane lowered me back into the bathtub.
Roscoe crouched down beside the tub and took my chin in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “Shane is right,” he scolded. “I don’t want to ever hear you say those words again, do you hear me? None of this is your fault. You have done nothing wrong! Your brother had no right to sell you off to pay his gambling debts, especially not to someone cruel. Nobody should be treating you in that way. You are not to blame for any of this!”
I squirmed uncomfortably at the hardness of the tub. My bottom burned and throbbed. Roscoe looked at me sternly and because I couldn’t look away, I blinked back at him, feeling sorry for myself. My bottom hurt, my head still hurt, and all I had wanted to do was help. Why couldn’t they understand that?
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I only wanted to help.”
“I know.” Roscoe’s voice was gentle. He bent forward and kissed my cheek, the one that hadn’t scraped against the tree. “And we appreciate it.” He let go of my chin and took my hand instead. Shane crouched down on my other side and picked up my other hand, gently squeezing my fingers.
“My father said I would never amount to anything,” he told me, pain in his voice, and my heart hurt for the man I loved, hearing those words from his father. “So it’s important to me that I make something of my life, by myself,” he explained.
I nodded. I understood. At least, I think I did. His words made sense, even if I didn’t really understand the reasoning behind them. What was wrong with accepting help when it was offered? But I held my tongue. There was a lot about men that I still had to learn.
“Hold onto your money,” Roscoe said. “One day we may have need of it. I may need some of it myself, as you said, for more seed. But let me have a proper look at my crop first. I haven’t had a chance yet. Perhaps the damage is not as great as I first thought.”
I nodded again, looking down at my bath.
“But right now we have something important to do,” Shane said. “We’re going to make you ours.”
Heat shot to my core in anticipation. Them claiming me, however they wanted to, was something I would never object to.
17
SHANE
Elise’s eyes sparked with excitement when I told her we were going to make her ours and her enthusiasm made my cock hard. She didn’t even know what we were going to do yet and already, she was keen.
“Stand up,” I told her, “and sit yourself on the edge of the tub. Spread your legs.” She looked confused. “We’re going to shave you. Our wife is going to have a nice smooth pussy. When we’re licking your clit, we don’t want any barrier between our mouths and your skin.”
I watched her closely and was pleased when she didn’t flinch. She obeyed immediately, standing up and perching herself on the edge of the tub just as I had asked. I pressed my hand between her legs, pushing her thighs further apart, tilting her pelvis further forward with a hand on her back.
“Hold still,” I commanded as I dipped the soap in the water and rubbed it on the thatch of soft,
