Whitey was determined to give the little brunette a spanking she would remember, and his hand fell repeatedly on her rounded backside. He doubted she could feel much through the riding skirt and what was underneath, but he couldn't bare her. That just wouldn't be right, and Mr. Chambers would be after him with a shotgun if he did. Since he was in no position to marry anyone, he would have to give her a lesson over her skirt. "You are not experienced enough to risk riding like that, little girl," he scolding as he continued to spank her. "You could have fallen from the saddle and broke your fool neck!" More spanks, even harder. "What if I wouldn't of had Hero saddled and at the ready?" Harder spanks, down lower, where they really hurt!
"I'm sorry!" Helene apologized, crying.
"Not sorry enough," he told her, continuing to set her backside on fire. "Testing a man isn't smart, little girl. You'll get more than you bargain for."
"I know, and I am sorry! I won't do it again!"
"And lying about it afterwards. I ought to take off my belt and give you a good strapping for that."
"Please don't! I'm hurting now!"
Something in her voice told him she was not lying, and he wondered if he'd overdone the spanking. He stood her on her feet and immediately realized there was something else wrong. Helene's face was white and the lines of pain around her mouth were telling him that she was hurt elsewhere. He suddenly felt guilty as he said, "What is wrong, Helene, and this is not the time to lie to me."
"I hurt myself a while back and it hasn't healed yet," she fibbed.
"Where?"
"My rib," she tearfully admitted. Before she knew what he was going to do, Whitey had two buttons of her shirt undone. When he saw the discoloration and touched the spot gently, she cried out in pain, and then rested her head against his chest.
"What happened, honey? Tell me the truth now," he cajoled, holding her close and comforting her.
"Ted Fox hit me twice. I was ashamed to tell," she found herself admitting.
"You should have told me; I wouldn't of spanked you!" Whitey said, sick with guilt.
"No... I earned a spanking," she shocked him by admitting. "I acted like a brat."
"You sure did," he said with a grin and a wink for her, and that expression was quickly replaced with concern. "We'll get you back to the house and I'll send for Doc."
"No, I don't want anyone to know, Whitey!"
"Do I need to spank you again, little girl?"
Chapter Nine
Robert Thorne rode into town for the express purpose of checking to see if answers to his wires had come back yet. He went to the telegraph office and was told that there was still nothing for him. There were also no replies to the letters he sent to his sisters, but he was sure it was too soon for that. He was anxious to find out who hated him enough to hire someone, or several someones, to kill him. He knew his eldest brother hated him, but since Robert had left England, there was no need for William to give him another thought.
While he was in town, he took the time to deliver a message to Helene's Uncle, letting him know that Helene was enjoying her visit, and so was Amanda. The man thanked him and said he hoped the girl wasn't being a pest in any way, and Rob managed to reassure him that she was welcome to remain at the Chambers' Ranch as long as she liked. The man was pleased with the news and Rob knew he was enjoying the time with his lady friend.
Rob then went to the Mercantile to get some supplies and was told it would be an hour before Ted could get to his list since he was so busy. Rob assured him he understood, and that he would come back in an hour. Ted thanked him, relieved not to lose his business. Rob decided he deserved a beer and made his way to the saloon. The place was nearly deserted since most of the ranch hands were working at this time of day. Rob ordered his beer, and stood at the bar, taking a sip. All of a sudden he was jostled from behind as a man made his way to the bar, shoving Rob aside. "Excuse me," Rob said in his precise way of speaking. "I am standing here."
"Mister, I don't give a rat's ass where you are standing. I am here now and you can get out of my way or get yourself shot."
"I don't want any trouble in here!" the bartender warned.
"You shut your mouth and get me a whiskey, barkeep," the man said belligerently. He never took his the-filled black eyes off of Rob's face. "I hate people who talk like you. You think you're better than the rest of us."
"You do not know me at all, and I do not care what you think," Rob stated calmly. He recognized the man for what he was... a hired gun trying to pick a fight. At least this one was coming at him openly and not planning to shoot him in the back. "Who hired you?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do. You have been hired to kill me; I have a right to know who hired you."
"You got no rights; you're gonna die. Go for your gun."
"Not in my saloon!" the bartender shouted, then ducked when the shootist picked up his glass of whiskey and threw it at him, shattering the mirror hanging on the back bar. "Damnation and hell!" the bartender swore angrily. "That mirror cost a lot of money!" he whined.
"Draw," the shootist ordered, facing Rob squarely.
"If you accepted money to kill a man you should be willing to tell him who ordered the killing," Rob stated.
The man didn't reply. He was tired of waiting for his victim to draw his gun and decided to get the farce over with. He reached for his weapon and Rob drew quickly and fired before the hired gun cleared his holster. The shocked look on his face as he hit the floor would have been amusing under other circumstances. "You killed me, Englishman!"
"Who hired you?" Rob asked again.
"I don't... know..." was the answer as the man died.
The Sheriff came running. "What happened in here?" he demanded, kneeling over the dead man to check for a pulse.
"He was a hired gun and he went for his gun first, Sheriff. Thorne defended himself," the bartender spoke up.
"Any idea who hired him?"
"No, Sheriff," Rob spoke quietly. "I was hoping you would find something in his pockets that might tell us."
The Sheriff nodded and went through the shootist's pockets, but other than some money and a watch, there was nothing at all. Rob's disappointment was palpable. "I'm sorry about this, Mr. Thorne." The Sheriff was disappointed, too. "It's a good thing you know how to use that gun."
Rob nodded, but he did not feel any relief. Who wanted him dead so badly that he would hire men to come after him in this manner? And how could he ask Amanda to marry him when he could be placing her in danger? He took out his wallet and put some bills on the bar. "This should cover the mirror," he told the bartender.
"I can't take your money, Mr. Thorne. You didn't do nothing wrong!"
"I feel responsible. He came looking for me. Please allow me to replace the mirror for you."
After a few seconds of studying Rob's face, the other man nodded respectfully. "Thank you, Mr. Thorne. I'll be sure to send you word when it comes in, and I'll treat you to a beer."
"That would be nice," Rob said with a smile. He left the saloon and walked back to the Mercantile. Word had already reached from one end of town to the other and Ted looked at him anxiously.
"I'm sure glad you bested that fellow, Rob. What is this world coming to that a man can't get a beer without having someone throwing down on him!"
"Have you had any new customers lately, Ted?" Rob asked. He was going to start asking around to see what he could come up with on his own. The Sheriff was trying to investigate, but had nothing to go on. Rob was not about to do nothing while someone kept hiring men to kill him.
"You are the newest customer I've got, Rob, unless you count people just passing through town. Oh, a couple of the ranches have hired a few new hands, but they're just green kids... No one has come in here asking about you, either," Ted offered. "You must have made someone mad at you; what about ladies? Did you leave some woman behind in England who thought you wanted marriage?"
"No, Ted," Rob said with a smile and a shake of his head. "I did not court any young women; the women I did see were not looking for permanence in a relationship. The last woman that I escorted about London left England before I did. She is happily married and living in France."
"What about men? Did you step on someone's toes in business or gambling?" Ted continued to question Rob, wanting to help.
"Not that I can recall. I was involved in a couple of business ventures that ended badly; the man who was responsible for trying to steal the shipments was killed, so it could not be him."