"But she was your wife. You were lovers. It was natural for you both, and it was understandable since you had that kind of relationship…"
He didn't say anything more, even though Elodie's entreaties became more and more fervent. When he'd driven through the large gate that read 'Carver Ranch' and finally pulled into the horseshoe-shaped driveway and up to the front door, he stopped and turned to her. "No, we don't have that kind of relationship. Yet. But you understand my beliefs on Domestic Discipline, and I care about you, and I can see that you're not taking care of yourself the way you should be. It's been relatively balmy around here lately. But we've had some snaps of below zero weather. I can't bear the thought of you walking around shivering in that kind of temperature. I want you to have a winter coat. I don't think it's too much to ask."
He reached out and tugged gently on an errant blonde lock of hair. "And, when I ask you to do something, I expect to be obeyed. You're going to learn that very, very quickly."
It was on the tip of her tongue to confess, hoping that would help her get out of a spanking. Pride be damned—she didn't want anything to do with being spanked by this man. He was too darned big, and too determined by far. If she had to cry poverty, she would. Now that her little fantasy was actually becoming a reality, it didn't sound so sexy anymore.
But while she was pondering what to do, he had gotten out of the truck, come around to her side and opened the door, putting his hand out to her much more imperiously than he ever had. Elodie huddled back in the truck, as far away from him as she could. "I am not going to get out."
"You would prefer that I reach in there and haul you out over my shoulder, in broad daylight? You know my head foreman lives right next door. And my other guys are working on mending fences nearby—I'm sure they wouldn't mind getting a show. And can you imagine when they get home and tell their wives, how fast the news that Elodie West got her butt blistered by Clay Carver will spread?"
It wasn't the first time she'd cursed living in a small town. She knew that if she found herself in that house, she'd end up getting spanked. But he didn't look like he was going to back down in any way, shape or form, and, knowing Clay for as long as she had, she knew he wouldn't budge an inch.
"I'm not going to wait forever, young lady." His voice was as calm and patient as if he was telling her he was going to go out for a stroll.
Finally, as slowly as she dared, she climbed out of the truck. Clay took her arm and escorted her into his house.
It had been a while since she'd been to the ranch. Elodie could remember the first time April had shown it to her. She'd been positively glowing. It was a white house with a round portico in the front. In the olden days, they used to call it a center hall colonial, because the front door opened into a center hall; a foyer, with a formal parlor along one whole side of the house, on the right, and an informal parlor—which Clay used as a study—and dining room along the left side of the house, with the kitchen and an added bathroom along the back. The beautiful, winding mahogany staircase in the hall led to the bedrooms and another two bathrooms upstairs.
Both April and Elodie had had an appreciation for big old houses, instilled in them early by their house-happy mother, who desperately wanted to get out of the small place they all grew up in. Unfortunately, Momma never did, but April found a beautiful place where she and Clay could be happy and raise their children.
Elodie had never imagined entering her sister's house in such a state—with a spanking hanging over her head—one that was coming from Clay himself, no less! He hadn't changed the house or the furnishings one bit; Elodie almost expected April to come bounding down the stairs.
Clay saw her face and grimaced. "Feels like she's still here, doesn't it?" he asked softly, a sudden sadness settling on his face.
She could only nod solemnly in agreement.
"It's okay for us to think about her, to talk about her," he softly said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
"But you said we have to move on." She was fighting back tears.
"We do. But that doesn't mean we have to forget. Or not talk about the elephant in the room."
She nodded again. "You're right. I have been away from this place for too long. Trying to avoid."
Clay gave a little squeeze, and softly kissed her on the forehead. "There's no easy solution, no answer. All we can do is move ahead."
Elodie looked up into his eyes and matched his warm smile. "What do you think April would think?"
He chuckled. "She'd feel really bad for you since she knows what's in store for you." He released a belly laugh, which was just what was needed to break the morose mood that had been set.
Elodie shoved him playfully and feigned annoyance. "Clay Carver!"