Cowboys Know Best Page 10

“Then you need to show you are a woman and not a spoiled little girl, Perlita. So far, your behavior is less than mature.” Perl reddened at Dennis’ words, turning her face from him as she still sat perched on his lap. He poked her side. “Part of being an adult is taking criticism with grace. And not pouting when you can’t have your way. Put that lip back in before a bird comes along and lays a nest on it.”

  Hank watched the two of them, jealousy raging in his heart as this woman, the love of his life, allowed his best friend to hold and guide her. He cleared his throat.

  “We are ready to hear what you have to say now.”

  Perl inhaled, leaning against Dennis’ bony shoulder. “I’m really sorry. For disobeying you, for putting myself and Cherry at risk by riding off alone and then stealing your truck. I know I drove recklessly and could have hurt Cherry, myself, or even you two. And I’m really sorry for my temper tantrums and fits. I should have showed you more respect and gratitude for everything you’ve done for me. You took a total stranger into your home and I turned your life upside down. I’m sorry for that, too.”

  Hank felt his breath catch in his throat. “I’m not,” he forced out. “I don’t regret one second of having my life turned upside down, inside out, or backwards by you. And I have… much affection for you.”

  Dennis rolled his eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Hank. Tell the girl you love her already. Then let’s get this done so we can dig into that blueberry pie she made for me.”

  Hank pointed to the floor in front of him. “Come here, Perl. Our gathering tonight, in my study, is not for personal repartee. It’s to distribute justice to your little fanny. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Perl whispered, suddenly feeling very small and childlike in his huge, overwhelming presence.

  “My girl must accept that certain behaviors have consequences. I am not an unfair man, though. I will allow you to choose the instrument of your discipline. Pick from one of these.”

  Perl’s eyes widened and she looked at Dennis in fear. His face was impassive. “Go on, Perl, stalling won’t make things any easier on you.”

  Perl stared at the implements that Hank had laid on his desk. A thick, wide razor strop, a long, narrow wooden ruler, a thin, two-foot-long stripped hickory switch, and a heavy, broad wooden cutting board with a handle. Her lip quivered as she looked up into his stern, handsome face. She was smart enough to know that the smaller implements were not necessarily any less painful.

  “I can’t,” she whimpered, “they all will hurt.” Hank merely nodded silently. Shaking, she pointed to the ruler.

  “You’re right about that, little girl,” Hank replied, folding his arms across his wide chest as he stood next to her. “Yes, I think that perhaps ten minutes under the ruler will not only do you a world of good, but will also give you a new view of the long arm of the law.” Hank stated explicitly, “Now take those trousers down before I lose my patience.”

  Sobbing in open indignity now, Perl lifted her hips to untie the cloth belt that held her pants in place. She slowly slid them down to her knees, pausing momentarily before letting them drop to the floor.

  “Bend across the desk, Perlita. All the way. Grab the edges across from you,” he instructed. The short girl found herself stretched over the broad desk, standing on tiptoe in order to hold the thick edge of the desk top. She lay across the desk, her cheeks blushing with mortification as she realized that her position would hide nothing should he choose to completely bare her bottom.

  Hanks's voice cut through her tense reveries, startling her and making her jump. "Good," he commented dryly, picking up the long, two-inch-wide ruler in his hand, "now get your fanny higher in the air, little girl."

  Perl looked back at him one last time, eyes brimming. "Please, Hank, don't s-spank me, I p-promise I'll b-be good, truly I will, please don't use that ruler on my bottom, p-please—"

  “Bottom higher," Hank grunted. "Now get those panties down, young lady."

  “Nooooooo, I’m begging you!” Perl implored miserably as she realized that the moment had come for her to be stripped of all feminine dignity. There was nothing worse than being forced to offer up her bare backside for punishment. Thoughts about her impending disgrace raced through her mind. He couldn't do this to her! It just wasn't right! But then, she knew that she had been unpardonably naughty and had tested Hank's patience a little too often. She loathed to admit that she was in dire need of a well-smacked bottom personally delivered by him.

  Reaching back with both hands, Perl peeled her tight, clinging briefs down to her knees. She couldn't risk the consequences of even a moment's hesitation at this point in time. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she started whimpering under her breath. Her tummy was a mass of knots and she felt completely vulnerable as she lay doubled over the desk with her panties pulled down, exposing every private area she possessed. She started crying like some spoilt child who was getting her very first spanking.

  “You can quit that whining, young lady,” Hank warned her grimly, “you've had this coming for a while. Now hold still and keep your legs straight. It's time to spank that naughty rear end and teach you a few things about respect."

  Perl clenched her bottom in anticipation of the expected blow, tightly shutting her eyes in preparation for the inevitable. Gripping the ruler firmly, Hank lifted the strip of mahogany high over his right shoulder, wordlessly ignoring Perl's whispered entreaties to reconsider. He commenced with her sentence and delivered ten furious smacks to her sumptuous, quivering globes, systematically working her cheeks to a richly glowing pink. Perl screamed as each blazing stroke descended, frantically begging Hank to stop.

  "Nooooo!! Owwww! Owww! Hank!! Stop, please! Aaaaoowww! Nooooo morrree!!"

  Her pleas were premature. Perl knew that a reduced sentence was highly unlikely given the severity of her crime. The ruler smacked down again and again across her tender bare buns, scalding the flesh to a simmering beet-red. The pain was horrendous and by the end of first volley, she had reached the threshold of her tolerance. Hank paused at the five minute mark, resting his arm and allowing the gasping, panting girl to catch her breath. He looked at the prints left by the ruler and bit his lip. Try as he may, he found himself unable to continue with the judicial portion of her punishment. So he switched his methods to incorporate a more intimate technique.

  Placing the ruler on the desk, Hank lifted his palm and laid in with his whole arm, sharply swatting Perl's fleshy bottom and upper thighs. The girl kicked and twisted in blue-fire agony, shaking her back-end while shrieking at the top of her lungs. She'd never imagined a spanking could hurt so much! Hank’s wide, flat palm felt like white-hot steel against her soft, supple flesh. The hand-spanking lasted a good five minutes, leaving her bare, trembling bottom blazing crimson, with the scorching prints of Hank’s hand visible along the entire length of her thighs.

  In spite of the ‘judicial’ nature of her punishment, there was nothing that could set Hank’s blood boiling like the image of Perl’s well-spanked, bright red, and very shapely female posterior. Hank felt his manhood twitch uncomfortably and he abruptly excused himself to pour him, and Perl, a shot of whiskey.

  “Here,” he said, placing the small glass next to her weeping form, “have a drink.”

  “For Pete’s sake! Hank, do you have rocks in your head?” Dennis reprimanded, watching as Perl just sobbed limply over the desk. “Hold the child!”

  “This is judicial. There is no holding or comforting,” Hank retorted stubbornly.

  “Yeah, there is no hand spanking, either, but you did it. Get out of my way,” Dennis shoved his friend aside. He carefully covered Perl’s swollen bottom with her panties and then gently lifted her off the desk and into his arms. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around the older man’s neck and cried into his chest. With a deep, jealous growl, Hank stormed from the room.

  “He hates me!” Perl cried, unable to catch her breath.

  “No, honey. He’s tormented. He’s hopelessly i
n love with you, but his fear is preventing him from showing it.”

  “Why is he afraid of me? What did I do?”

  With a sigh, Dennis shared his friend’s history and the wounds he suffered from his previous marriage. Although the townsfolk had provided extensive support and understanding, Hank had still chosen to isolate himself from the world and any unnecessary personal relationships. Dennis further explained how Nana had come to live with him for a while out of concern for her favorite grandson, and that Hank had succeeded in driving even her away.

  Perl smiled through her tears. “It sounds like that trait runs in the family. She did the same to him when she was tired of him bothering her.”

  Dennis hugged her gently. “You’re a good girl. Now, I noticed that you occasionally call Hank ‘papa’…”

  “He had me do that when we were traveling together to protect my reputation,” Perl whispered. “He really seemed to like me calling him that.”

  “There are a lot of gals who call their men papa in these parts, it’s just a sweet way of addressing them. Since we’re close family here, I’ve decided that you need to start calling me Grampa, got it? It will get me in the mood for when you start giving me babies to play with. What’s wrong? Did I say something?” he asked with concern as her eyes grew misty.

  “I’ve never had a grandfather. We left Italy when I was a baby so I never saw any of my grandparents before they died. And my father and uncle always wanted me to have babies for them to play with.” Sadness washed over her face as she recalled her loss. “You really want me to be a granddaughter to you?”

  “Punkin’, I raised Hank like he was one of my own. I never had kids, so he got my undivided attention. I’m smart enough to know when a child needs some loving and you, my girl, need a lot. How’s the behind?”

  “Terribly sore. But,” she blushed, “I did deserve it.”

  “Yes, ma’am, you did. But it’s over now and hopefully not to be repeated. Can I offer you a suggestion? Clean yourself up and get all pretty, then start moving in on my old friend. He won’t be able to resist you forever. Trust me.”

  “I would never hurt him, Dennis. Not on purpose.”

  “I know that and I think he does too. You just need to break through that thick head of his.”

  “I’ll try. Thanks, Grampa.”

  Dennis smiled and, with a kiss, sent her up to her room to clean herself up.

  * * *

  “Where did you say you got this?” Don Piccoli roared, tossing down the flyer with Perl’s picture plastered on the front.

  “Found it at a movie theater down in Virginia, Boss. There were a bunch of them. I asked the owner and he said that she’s a popular dame in Texas. They gave her the title of The Songbird. He was talking about trying to get her to come up for a fancy concert.”

  “Texas? Yeah, I heard some cowboy brought down my boys with an old six-shooter. Tony!” the red-faced man bellowed, “go with Val here and find out where Miss Moretti is hiding out. As soon as you find her, I want to know. I’ll be coming to personally bring that broad to her knees and make her wish she never refused my Joey’s offer to join the family.”

  “On it, Boss.”

  * * *

  Perl slipped on a cotton night dress and brushed her waist-length, raven-black hair until it gleamed. Of course, she performed these tasks standing up; her backside was still far too tender to attempt sitting. She had said goodnight to Dennis and then gone upstairs as the man left to find his old friend.

  The sound of Dennis’ squad car driving off, coupled with the slamming of the front door, was her cue. Taking a deep breath, she tiptoed barefoot down the stairs and into the sitting room. Hank was on the end on the long couch, face buried in a book. A roaring fire in the hearth sent flickers of light bouncing off his handsome, furrowed brow. Perl stood to watch him for a moment, her heart pounding with something between fear and excitement. Taking a deep breath, she approached him.

  “What are you doing out of your room, young lady?” Hank barked, startled.

  “I came down to tell you I was sorry for being so naughty and disobedient,” she answered in a quiet, timid voice. “I also wanted to thank you for… caring so much about me. I didn’t know how much I worry you.”

  “Yes… well… off to bed with you, now.” He sounded uncomfortable and uncertain, a state of being that the self-assured, confident man was not accustomed to experiencing.

  “Please forgive me. I don’t like making you unhappy with me. I promise to try to be a good girl for now on,” Perl whispered, blinking her long, dark lashes slowly. Her wide-eyed, dark gaze started to melt his heart, but he fought back the urge to soften. No, it just wouldn’t do, he thought, I don’t care what Dennis thinks, either.

  He cleared his throat. “It’s good to know you learned something. It’s late and you need to get to sleep.”

  Perl was frustrated. Dennis had warned her about the man’s stubbornness and encouraged her to work through it. She tugged his sleeve, swallowing as he looked back up at her from his book.

  “I can’t sleep. My bottom hurts terribly and so does my heart. Please? May I stay up with you for just a little while? I need my papa…”

  There! She caught the softening of his face in the fire light. She continued, kneeling by the edge of the couch and putting her cheek on his knee, “I want to make you proud of me. You’ve given me something that all the money and power in the world can’t buy. A sense of value and self-worth. I know you won’t believe me, but…” she took a deep breath, praying that Dennis had been correct, “I love you. I don’t want to ever leave here. Or you.”

  “Perl, I am old enough to be your father…” Hank started to offer an excuse.

  “Not quite, but the man that my father had tried to pair me with was over forty. And completely disgusting. I’ve never felt this way for anyone, Hank. Please, don’t make me beg. Tell me you love me too.”

  She watched the silent struggle as Hank looked for a reason to deny her bold request. She knew she had stepped out of the confines of propriety and etiquette, and she did not care. She was a modern woman, after all, and he would just have to get used to it! With her chin on his knee, she looked up into his face. He was staring at her. Slowly, his large hand crept to touch the top of her head and then started to gently stroke her hair. She knew she had won, and a happy smile lit her face.

  “I love you, too. I just…”

  Perl carefully climbed onto his lap, wrapping her small arms around his neck. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. I’ll learn how to be the perfect wife, if you’ll have me.”

  Hank frowned. “It’s the man’s job to propose marriage, young lady. It’s not comely for a woman to take such liberties,” he scolded, half serious and half amused.

  Perl shrugged with a mischievous flicker in her eyes. “If I waited for you to make a move, Mr. Billings, then we would never get anywhere. Besides, it’s 1947. It’s time to step into the modern world. Now kiss me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Four days later, before a ‘small’ group of witnesses (nearly the entire town of Great Price, Texas), Hank and Perl were married by the local preacher. News had spread quickly and the town had joined together to decorate the little church courtyard with ribbons and evergreen branches, making the little yard look like a fairy wonderland just in time for the two o’clock ceremony. Several women took a trip all the way to San Antonio to find a proper dress for the new bride, while the men grouped together to finish the ranch chores and free up Hank’s crew to attend the ceremony. Dennis demanded the position of handing Perl off to Hank as her ‘proxy grandfather’ before the man retreated behind some trees to blow his nose in a kerchief.

  Perl rolled her eyes… what was it with men and weddings? It came as a surprise to her that this emotional response wasn’t limited to Italians, either! She was further amused by Hank’s protests about a reception, and watched in delight as the community blatantly ignored him and showed up at the ranch right after the cer
emony in order to flood the new couple with gifts and food, and admire Perl in her snowy white ‘modern’ dress which showed off her shapely calves and some ample cleavage. She laughed at Hank’s blush upon seeing the soft swells that were pressed together by the open keyhole-cut of the dress, and brushed his hand away as he attempted to hide the site from onlookers. She kissed his cheek and promised him a better look later on in the day. He responded with a grin and then attempted to tuck a lacy napkin over her bosom, causing her to snicker and tease him even more.

  Boisterous laughter accompanied the festivities as a makeshift band was put together and people started to dance. Food and drink flowed in all directions, along with excited conversation and well-wishing, marital advice, and offers to teach Perl whatever skills she desired to learn to make her new husband happy and content at home.

  In return for their support and the wonderful, spontaneous party, Perl sang for the crowd, all the while keeping her eyes glued to her new husband, the man who had brought love and meaning to her existence. Cherry, always close to her mistress’ heels, ended the song with a plaintive howl, making the crowd break into laughter.

  It was dark outside when the last guest finally departed (Dennis, of course) and left the newlyweds to themselves. Hank plopped on a bench on the front porch and held his arms out for his new bride. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Mrs. Billings. Come sit on my lap.”

  “I would love too, Mr. Billings, but I am still dealing with some post-judicial tenderness,” Perl commented, easing herself onto his hard thighs. “It’s an awfully cold night, don’t you think?”

  “True. Would you be interested in maybe warming ourselves by the fire, wife?”

  “I would consider that, husband, under one condition.” Perl kissed his neck, just behind his ear. “You must do some soothing of my tender regions.”

  “Hmm, I think I can be persuaded,” Hank smiled, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into their home. He gently placed her on the couch and covered her with an afghan before pulling out a large sheepskin throw which he laid in front of the crackling fire. Perl watched as he added more wood and then poured them both a glass of brandy.