Grading Garnet: The Red Petticoat Saloon Page 10

“I knew I should have burned that thing along with the other trash.” Gloria headed for her desk with her hand out. “Give it to me. I’ll throw it in the barrel.”

  Seth held it well out of her reach without even having to stand. “Oh, I don’t think so, Miss Owens. In fact, I think this very useful implement needs to come home with us.”

  “It most certainly does not, Mr. McIntyre! Especially since it’s school property!”

  He cocked his head at her. “You were going to burn it. I’m just going to give it a better home, where it’s definitely going to get more use.” Then he stood as her mouth hung open. “Are we ready?” he asked, stopping right in front of her and offering her his arm, which she refused.

  Seth shrugged and headed for the door without her, holding the paddle in his right hand as if he intended to use it shortly on someone.

  “WAIT!” Gloria had her bag in one hand and her hat in the other as she chased after him, hating herself for doing so, but unwilling to let him get one step further, either. “You can’t go out there like that. You can’t take that… thing… home with you in broad daylight!”

  His eyebrow rose. “Of course I can.”

  “No! I mean, please. If you must take it, at least let me put it in my bag.”

  Seth turned around to confront her. “Why? Because you think everyone who sees me with it is going to know that I’m going to use it on you?”

  Gloria fidgeted uncomfortably. “Something like that, yes.”

  “And that would embarrass you?”

  “Of course it would!” she fumed up at him.

  “All right then,” he said, holding it out to her, and she was immediately suspicious of how easily he had capitulated to her demand.

  And when she reached for it and he wouldn’t allow her to take it from him, she knew she was about to discover what the catch was.

  “On one condition.”

  Gloria sighed in exasperation, meeting his eyes boldly. “What?”

  “I want this to reside in your room, hung on the wall, and I want you to understand that there will be times during this year that I will ask you to go get it for me.”

  When she replied, her gaze was somewhere around her own feet. “Yes,” she sighed dejectedly.

  But Seth wasn’t going to let her get away with that, and he brought her chin up as he prompted, “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl.” He tapped the paddle against his own leg and chuckled. “Yes, I can easily see this able to turn a naughty bottom crimson.” Then he took her bag and put the horrible instrument into it himself, closing it tightly and tucking the big carpetbag beneath one arm, then reoffering her the other.

  She took it, however grudgingly, feeling his self-satisfied gaze on her the entire time.

  ***

  Things were a little bit better between them from that point on. Gloria had thawed a little although she still felt a bit bereft since he didn’t seem to want to continue their physical relationship. She couldn’t really put her finger on why, since she knew that that was something she should have been grateful for, but still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment. He started coming to dinners, except when he actually couldn’t make it, and taking her into and picking her up from school.

  The school year was sailing by, and before she knew it, it was almost time to prepare for the holidays. This was the first time since she’d gotten there that she’d actually felt homesick. Her mother had adored all holidays and had gone all out, decorating anything or anyone who stood still long enough. Their cook would bake all sorts of goodies to give out to their friends who’d gather to celebrate. Once she was old enough, Gloria had taken over those traditions with gusto.

  The days had grown cooler. One day Seth had pointed out that there was snow on the mountains as he’d driven her into town. Today, dark clouds seemed to hover above them the entire way into town.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as he pulled up in front of the school. “You look a mite tired.”

  “I’m fine,” she said and then squealed when the clouds finally burst open to drench them within seconds.

  “Hold on,” Seth said, swinging her down from the wagon seat. Despite the cold rain, she still felt a thrill shoot through her the moment he wrapped his large hands about her waist. It also never failed to make her feel a bit dejected when those same hands released her once her feet were on the ground. Still, she managed a smile and thanked him, squealing again when he popped her bottom and told her to get inside before she caught her death.

  She had lit the fire and composed herself before her pupils began to file in, shaking water off their coats and heads before taking their seats. When she heard a few sniffles, she understood that spending eight hours a day—more when children misbehaved and were punished by having to stay after class—cooped up indoors with twelve children who were, in turn, harboring germs for the flu, colds, stomach aches and other general maladies was taking its toll. The poor dears needed a bit of fun to look forward to.

  Standing in front of her desk, she clapped her hands once they had settled. “Children, can anyone tell me what holiday is coming?”

  Several hands waved in the air. She smiled at their enthusiasm and pointed to Emmy.

  The little girl jumped from her seat. “Christmas!”

  “Um, that’s partly correct, but I meant what holiday comes before Christmas?” Blank expressions met her question. “Do you remember when we learned about George Washington?” Heads nodded and when Polly’s hand shot into the air, Gloria nodded at her, saying a quick, “bless you,” when she sneezed.

  Standing beside her desk, Polly said, “Thank you. Um, oh yes, he was our very first president!”

  “That’s right. And, in 1789, he declared that everyone should have a day for thanksgiving. Can anyone tell me what that means?”

  “Does it mean we get presents?” The question came from a young boy who was promptly chided by his older sister for speaking without being called on.

  Gloria shook her head. “No, Carlton. Thanksgiving means we take a day to think about all the things we are thankful for.” At his dejected look, mimicked by several of his classmates, she smiled. “But, I was thinking… what do you think about having a sort of picnic? We can have all sorts of dishes to celebrate different heritages and we can decorate the school and make centerpieces that you can take home. In fact, we can invite your mothers and fathers to eat with us. What do you think about that idea?”

  Several were shaking their heads as if confused. “You don’t think it would be fun?”

  When Ava’s hand rose, Gloria nodded her permission to speak. Giving her brother a pointed look that he simply ignored, she stood. “I think it is a lovely idea, Miss Owens, but, well, don’t you think it might be a little cold to have a picnic?”

  “You’re absolutely right,” Gloria said and laughed. “I meant we could have an indoor picnic.” Her statement had heads nodding and hands waving. Pleased to see them embracing the idea, they spent the next hour discussing what sort of food they should serve. Though her head began to pound a bit, she didn’t ask them to quiet down, not wanting to curb their enthusiasm.

  “Cake!” Polly added, “oh, and tea. It’s not a proper picnic without tea!”

  “Tamales!” Miguel shouted out and then promptly burst into a bout of coughing. When he managed to draw a breath, Gloria shuddered as he wiped his runny nose with his sleeve. She walked to him, offering him the hankie she always tucked into her sleeve.

  “No thanks,” he said. “My nose ain’t runnin now.”

  “Isn’t running,” she automatically corrected. “Children, I want all of you to bring a handkerchief with you to school starting tomorrow. We don’t want to spread germs around.”

  “What kind of food is that? Does a germ taste good like tamales?” Miguel asked, his arm lifting again, after he sneezed rapidly three times. Before he could use it, Gloria handed him the hankie.

  “It’s not a food an
d it’s not something good. We can learn about germs a bit later, all right?”

  By the time the school day ended, and despite the fact that her eyes had begun to feel heavy and itchy, Gloria had filled one side of the blackboard with a list of food. Her last instruction was for the children to start gathering leaves and pinecones to be used as decorations. “We can make cornucopias out of paper and fill them with all things autumn. After the picnic, you can take them home to use for your own decorations.”

  Seth found her surrounded by excited children as they chattered about some party. He smiled when Emmy raced to him, vibrating with excitement.

  “We’re gonna have a picnic, Mr. Mack. You can come too! Oh, and it’s gonna be inside cuz it’s too cold to sit on the ground.”

  “That sounds lovely, Emmy.”

  She nodded and as he helped her into her coat, she gave him an impulsive hug. “But, you still can’t sit in my chair. You might break it!” He chuckled and assured he he would stand. Once the room was empty, he walked to the front.

  “I must say, you really have brought her out of her shell.”

  “She’s such a sweet girl,” Gloria said. “They are all such wonderful…” A sneeze cut off her sentence. “Excuse me. Um, yes, wonderful children. Though, I must add a lesson on proper sanitary uses of a handkerchief.” When she fumbled with her sleeve and came up empty, Seth pulled his own handkerchief from his pocket.

  Placing it against her nose, he said, “Blow.” Instead, she yanked it from his hands and proceeded to use it herself.

  “I had thought we might have dinner before we go home, but…” Seth began…

  “Perfect! I wanted to ask Miss Nettie if she knew how to make something called tamales and perhaps some sort of native Indian dish. I think it’s important for the children to learn that there are many different cultures in the world… even in a small town such as Culpepper.”

  “I’m sure Nettie would love to help but, did you forget that Lola is actually Mexican?”

  When she busied herself buckling her carpetbag and avoided his eyes, he knew something was bothering her. “Gloria, I asked you a question.”

  “No, I didn’t forget but… I wanted to ask Miss Nettie.”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t, but want to know why you don’t want to ask Lola for help.”

  “She doesn’t like me, all right? I don’t know why exactly but… maybe she knows about…”

  “I assure you she does not!” Seth interrupted. “I haven’t told a single soul about what happened that day so unless you did…”

  “No!” she said, her eyes briefly meeting his before dropping to the desk and then flitting away again. “I-I wasn’t talking about what happened… here.” Her voice lowered. “I think she heard you… spanking me. She thinks I’m a bad person!”

  “She couldn’t,” Seth began.

  “You don’t know that! You spanked hard and I-I yelled!”

  His chuckle had her head whipping up, her eyes flashing. “Whoa, settle down. I meant that she couldn’t think you are a bad person because you are no such thing.” He stepped closer and gripped her upper arms. “Naughty sometimes, yes, a bit vocal when you are getting your rear reddened, yes, sassy and argumentative, definitely, but, honey, there is no way anyone can consider you a bad person.”

  Her sputter was expected and her blush was absolutely adorable. Bending down until his lips were but a fraction of on inch from hers, he whispered, “And, little one, I wouldn’t want to change a single thing about you.” He kissed her, delighted when she instantly responded, her lips warm and soft against his own. His cock instantly made its presence known, stiffening more when she gave a soft, throaty moan. It was only when the moan began to sound a bit strangled that he pulled away, giving her a much closer look.

  She’d looked a bit peaked when he’d dropped her off, and now, not only had she sneezed several times, her eyes watering and her nose a bit moist, she looked downright dreadful, and he told her so.

  “Stop complimenting me so much, Seth. You’ll turn my head,” she quipped, but with little to none of her usual sarcasm. “I’m fine…” Her words were instantly belied when she began to cough, her chest heaving within seconds as she tried to draw in a breath.

  “You are not fine,” he countered, lifting a hand to press against her forehead after she recovered.

  She was burning up. He’d had a feeling she might have a fever. Her cheeks weren’t flushed from his kiss—it hadn’t been that intense or long. They were a rosy, unhealthy looking red and her eyes were glassy. When she breathed out and then inhaled deeply, he could hear her wheezing.

  “Okay, baby girl,” he said, picking up her coat and putting it on her before also bundling her gently up in his coat. After banking the fire, during which she suffered another coughing fit, he grabbed her carpetbag and then lifted her into his arms, walking to the door.

  “Put me down! I can…” This time her body convulsed as she sneezed repeatedly.

  “That’s it,” he said, lifting her bodily onto the seat of the wagon. “We’re going to make a stop at the doctor’s before we head home.”

  “No! I’m fine! I don’t want to go to the doctor!” she protested weakly, hitting him on the arm with all her strength, which he noticed even less than usual because she hadn’t the strength to try to make it count as she usually did. “I want to go to dinner!”

  He merely chuckled. “I’m sorry, little miss, but you don’t have a choice in the matter. After you see Doctor Norwood, I’m taking you home and tucking you into bed.”

  “I need to…”

  “Gloria, you need to accept the fact that I’m in charge. The only choice I’m giving you is whether you’d rather be tucked in with or without a hot little bottom.” When she only huffed and then laid her head on his shoulder, he knew she was truly ill.

  He stopped the team in front of the doctor’s office and carried her in, but Norwood was nowhere to be found. So he left a note asking him to come out to the ranch as soon as he could, and listed her symptoms so he’d know what to bring with him to help her.

  He got them both back into the wagon and drove the horses full speed home, clutching her shivering, quaking body to his side the whole way.

  When he got home, Lola met him at the wagon. “What’s wrong?”

  “She has the flu or a cold or something.”

  “I knew she didn’t look right this morning. And she wasn’t teasing you back like she usually does.”

  “Yeah, any time she’s quiet, there’s definitely something up.”

  As she held the door, he headed—not for Gloria’s room—but for his own, despite Lola’s disparaging look.

  “She’s sick, and I’m going to tend to her. I’d fall all over myself, or worse, her, in that tiny room, and then it wouldn’t be the flu that got her, it would be me. If that idea offends your feminine sensibilities,” he said as he took off his suit coat, “then I suggest that you go to see your sister for a while. If you’re going to stay, then you’re going to help me.”

  “Of course I will help.”

  He saw on her face that Lola was sincere in her offer, then continued trying to undress Gloria as she did her best to try to stop him from doing it, rebuttoning buttons he’d just undone until he gently swatted the back of each of her hands, which made her whimper.

  “Honey, you have to let me undress you and get you into a nightgown. You’ll feel much better once I do.” Seth looked around the room and caught sight of the fact that the fireplace was not lit. “Would you start the fire for me, please? She’s freezing.”

  “The proper thing would be for me to undress her and you to start the fire, mijo,” the older woman pointed out.

  Seth pinned her with a ferocious look. “I know you women care deeply about such things, but I don’t give a fuck about what’s proper. Either do as I say or get the hell out of my way and I’ll do it myself once I’ve gotten her nightgown on.”

  Lola left to do his bidding, and he was
still struggling with Gloria’s nightgown when she had the fire blazing, so the two of them undressed her and got her into the gown and under the covers. Lola then produced several more blankets and quilts, which they loaded on top of her, although Gloria continued to shiver.

  “What else can we do?” Seth asked in desperation as he sat facing her on his bed, wishing he could do anything to help. He detested feeling helpless like this, wishing he was the one who had been taken ill instead of her. He couldn’t even hold her hand because he didn’t want to make her any colder than she already was.

  He felt as if he was being slowly roasted alive, himself, but he would endure whatever he needed to to get her healthy again.

  Seth sent one of his men to the school early the next morning, instructing him to put a sign on the door stating that school would be closed until Miss Owens got well. The doctor didn’t arrive until later that day, having been out delivering a baby, and Gloria was much worse. He listened to her lungs, looked at her eyes, and took her pulse.

  Then he took her temperature in a manner that had sent Lola out of the room, although Seth stayed, because he thought he might need to know how to do it.

  “I don’t have one of those; will you leave one for me?”

  “Of course.”

  “How often should I be doing this?”

  If he was surprised that it was going to be Seth doing something so intimate to his patient rather than Lola, Anson didn’t show it. “Oh, every four hours or so when she’s feverish.”

  Eventually Dr. Norwood pronounced that she had a bad chest cold, possibly bronchitis. He prescribed what he could, which was really just rest. He instructed Seth to try to keep her propped up on a stack of pillows to ease her breathing and to pump all the liquids they could into her. “Strong, black coffee, if you can get it down her, and keep steam in the room, if you can. That’ll all help her breathing. We don’t want this to turn into pneumonia.” Lola got to work on the coffee and the steam, and while she was out of the room, Dr. Norwood sidled up to him.

  “There’s no possibility that she’s pregnant, is there, Seth?” the doctor asked, because he was obliged to.