Claimed by the Mountain Man (10 page)

His hand settled and cupped her possessively. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?” he asked roughly.

“Yes,” she rasped and looked into his eyes, which were dark with lust.

He landed another smack. “I don’t know that you have. Four more.” The last four slaps were sharp and caused her to cry out. Just as her cries were dying, he turned her around and surged into her pussy from behind, bringing another cry from her lips, this time of sheer pleasure. He rocked against her, pounding her with his cock. “Come for me,” he said, his hands tight around her hips as he held her in place to drive the full length of his cock into her.

She exploded with sensations. Unable to grasp anything due to her hands being tied behind her, she felt helpless against the onslaught of pleasure. She was at her body’s mercy, just as she was at Jack’s. He increased the speed of his thrusts until she felt his body tense and spasm against hers. He held her tight to him as they recovered, breathing hard together. His grip on her loosened as his breathing slowed. He released the binds from her wrists and collapsed into bed, grabbing Nettie along with him.

She laid on her stomach and rested her head on the pillow, while Jack laid on his side and propped himself up with an elbow. He stroked his fingers down her back. “What have you done to me, woman? I can’t resist you.”

She smiled. “I can’t resist you either, Trapper Jack.” She gazed into his eyes, which regarded her warmly. She wished that he would say more. She wanted him to make some hint that she was his for good, but he didn’t speak again. Leaning over, he gave her a kiss on her forehead and then left the bed. She continued to lie there, and her satisfied feeling from the effects of lovemaking gave way to dissatisfaction. She was falling deeper and deeper in love, but Jack made no mention of making her his wife.

* * *

Before the first snow of winter, Jack tied a rope from the cabin to the woodshed. He explained to Nettie that during a bad storm when the snow and wind made it impossible to see, he would need it to guide him to get more wood for the fire.

“I never even would have thought of that,” she said with a frown.

He grunted in response and bit back what he thought, which was that it was further proof she had no business trying to survive in the Montana woods alone.

Nettie and Jack sat together in front of the fire one cold evening in December. The wind howled outside the cabin, and the snow hadn’t stopped falling for two days. Nettie laced her fingers through Jack’s, and he squeezed her hand.

He looked over to find her studying him with an odd expression on her face. “What?” he asked.

“I just realized I would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

Jack returned his attention to the flickering flames of the fire. A long silence followed.

“Don’t you have anything to say to that, Jack?”

He frowned at the fire. “Not really. I don’t like talking about death.”

“But can’t you see? If you and your chickens hadn’t been here, I would have starved in August. If you hadn’t shown me how to fish and trap, I would have starved in September. And if you hadn’t taken me in, I’d be grizzly chuck or frozen in the cave by now. I don’t know why I thought I could survive the winter there. Even if I’d managed to fill the back room with wood, it still wouldn’t have fed a fire long enough to survive the winter.”

Jack had already imagined every possible scenario that could get her killed, and he didn’t want to discuss it. “I know all that, Nettie, and now you do too because you’ve learned a lot since first coming to the woods. What’s your point?”

She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Stop thinking so much.” He gave her hand a squeeze and released it.

Nettie sighed again. “Do you think me terribly stupid, Jack?”

He shook his head. “You’re not stupid, you’re a woman. Women can’t just go off and live somewhere alone like a man can. Plus you knew nothing of this kind of survival before you decided to try it.” He gave her a stern look, hoping to ward off any more discussion of the topic.

She scrunched up her face. “That makes me want to prove you wrong, you saying I can’t do it because I’m a woman.”

Alarm bells rang in Jack’s mind. If proving him wrong meant trying to live alone again come spring, he wasn’t about to allow it. He pulled her to him so he could speak in her ear. “Keep saying things like that, and you’ll be spending time over my knee. You have nothing to prove, and I’ve heard enough.”

When he let go of her, she stood and retrieved eggs from the cellar. She cracked them over the pan. A few moments later he heard her sniffling. He ignored it until her sniffles became soft cries. That’s when he stood.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her hands were still free to scramble the eggs. He’d never addressed her in that way, using an endearment, but it felt natural in that moment.

“You’re good to me, Trapper Jack, but I don’t like being dependent. I don’t like that I’m stuck here if you come to dislike me.” The food sizzled in the pan, and Nettie stirred it halfheartedly.

He felt surprised. Did she think him that fickle and untrustworthy? “I won’t come to dislike you, Nettie.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know everything about me, Trapper Jack. You wouldn’t like some things.”

Jack gathered that she was referring to her time working as a prostitute after her husband’s death. He considered telling her that he knew already, and he understood now more than ever before that a woman’s way to survive sometimes differed from a man’s. But then he thought better of it and bit back his words. Perhaps she would only feel ashamed if she knew he was aware of her past. It would be better if she brought up the subject. Then he could tell her he didn’t think of her as a whore.

He didn’t exactly think of her as a wife either. He might have asked her to marry him if he hadn’t recalled her saying a few months prior that she didn’t want to get married again. In any event, taking a wife was a thing civilized men in civilized societies did, not something a man who lived in the woods of Montana did. But he felt possessive of her. She was his woman, and he would never cast her aside. He suddenly remembered something she’d said, about wanting the illusion of free will, and it struck him that offering that might make her feel less dependent.

“You’re not stuck here past winter, Nettie. If you want to go live in town again, I won’t stop you,” he lied.

His words didn’t seem to provide the slightest comfort to Nettie, who continued to cry over the eggs. Jack felt frustrated and didn’t know what else to say, so he released her and changed the conversation to practical matters, a subject he was comfortable with. “I’m going to get wood from the shed.”

She nodded without looking at him. When he returned, she looked up mournfully from her seat at the table, her eyes red and her face swollen. It seemed she’d been crying the entire time he’d been fetching the wood. Jack removed his coat and boots, then added one of the new logs to the fire. He stoked it before joined her at the table. He sat on a log he’d shaped into a stool a couple of days after Nettie had started living there. She pushed the food over to him, and Jack ate in silence. For the first time, Nettie didn’t engage in a word of conversation during their meal. Something had changed between them. Something seemed horribly wrong, but Jack didn’t have the first clue what.

Chapter Nine: Sadness of Spring

As the days grew warmer, Nettie grew sadder. Jack had told her that he would let her go come spring, and she never went a day without hearing those words repeated in her head. For a brief time before he said that, she allowed herself to believe that he might feel the kinds of feelings a man had when he wanted to keep and marry a woman, but his words about letting her go proved to her that she was mistaken. He cared for her, but he had no desire to commit to her. The knowledge of this devastated her, and she felt a loss akin to what she felt upon learning of her husband’s death.

Because she felt devastated that Jack made no indication that he wanted to commit to her, her thoughts weren’t entirely rational. She wavered between wanting to confess her love to him and making plans to leave him before her heart could be broken further. She decided on the latter. Without Jack’s knowledge, Nettie decided to seek lodging at the saloon when they went to town. A big part of her understood that this wasn’t the best option for her. She would once again be put in a position to be swindled by Mr. Smith, and once again she would be at the mercy of men for her survival. In her current state of mind, however, this was preferable to being at the mercy of a man she loved but who didn’t love her in return. With her johns, she felt no emotional pain, only a vague feeling of being used. They were business transactions; Jack was more.

Nettie shuddered when she thought about how much contempt Jack would have for her if he knew she had prostituted herself just months before they met. She hoped he never found out and that his memory of her would remained unsullied by that knowledge. She had been his whore, wantonly seeking her pleasure without a promise of commitment from him. This was the reason, she suspected, for him not wishing to make her his wife. He had enough cause to scorn her without the additional knowledge of her activities before meeting him.

Nettie tried to enjoy her last days with Jack. She accompanied him in his work, helping where she could with his traps. She also fished while he trapped and was able to add significantly to their supply of food. One warm day in May, she sat contentedly on a rock next to the river, humming quietly as she fished. This time she didn’t fly-fish, but instead allowed the hook to rest with a worm in one spot. The sun warmed her head and shoulders from its place directly above her. It was one of those rare moments when she was able to forget about leaving Jack and enjoy the beauty that surrounded her.

Footsteps fell behind her, and she turned to see Jack heading toward her, a rope slung over his shoulder with the results of his trapping that day. Like a silly schoolgirl, she perked up upon seeing him and his familiar gait, but her giddiness was quickly replaced by melancholy at the knowledge that soon they would be separated.

When he reached her, he laid his burden on the grass and took a seat next to her on the rock. “Any bites?”

She shook her head. “No. I reckon I should switch to fly-fishing, but it feels so nice just sitting here on the rock. I don’t feel like wading the river today.”

“That’s all right. Best to take it easy. You need your rest because tomorrow I want to make preparations to leave for town. It’s a long journey.”

Sadness hit her, making her unable to talk. She feared her voice would betray her grief if she tried to speak, so she didn’t say anything and instead stared at the river, which sparkled with light as it flowed aggressively from the onslaught of the winter’s melted snow.

Jack seemed to mistake her silence for displeasure over the impending journey’s difficulties. “We’ll stop to rest as often as you need. I’ll make it as easy as possible for you.”

She nodded and said softly, “Thank you.”

Jack reached around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “You’ve been awfully sulky lately. Something on your mind?”

“No.” She allowed her head to rest on his chest.

His beard tickled her forehead when he spoke. “Are you unwell?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He released her and said sternly, “I get the feeling you’re not saying something I should probably hear. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Nettie looked over at him. His jaw was set, and he searched her eyes. She willed him to say all the things she wanted to hear from him.
I’ll never let you go. You’re mine. Marry me.
He said nothing, though, as he waited for her to speak. Finally he grunted with frustration and stood. “Stubborn woman. Suit yourself. You get back to the cabin before dark, you hear?”

“I will,” she said, tears forming in her eyes.

Jack stared at her for another moment before he let out an exasperated sigh, picked up his trappings, and walked away. Nettie watched him leave, and the tears spilled down her face. She would miss him and his bossiness. His orders always made her feel loved, even if he didn’t actually love her.

* * *

They prepared for their trip to town and packed bags full of pelts to trade for food and supplies. At dusk by the light of an oil lamp, Nettie mended her britches, which had torn at the seam along the hip.

Jack took a seat on the stool by the table and grinned at her. “We’ll have to get you some new britches in town. I reckon the seat on those is thin after all the wallops you’ve taken.”

She blushed. It was true that the material was worn nearly clear through. She feared whenever she sat that the fabric would split in two. She could only hope that they lasted long enough for her to get to town and borrow a dress from the madam at the saloon. She would wear a borrowed dress until she earned enough money to buy her own. It would be added to the debts she’d already accrued before running off last year, but she’d already made peace with the fact that she would be indebted to Mr. Smith for life.

“I don’t think it’s from the walloping,” she said, giving him a dirty look. “I was bare for most of those. But you’re right, these britches are mighty thin.”

“That reminds me, you’re getting one more spanking before we leave.”

Her cheeks grew even more pink. No matter how many times he spanked her, it still made her feel embarrassed, like a naughty little girl, especially when he prefaced it by talking about it. “What did I do?” she asked, playing the part of an innocent girl and batting her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve done something naughty, but nothing that I know of. I just want to spank that cute ass. Get over here.”

She set aside the mending and walked to him with a small smile. She didn’t even bother pretending she didn’t want a spanking. These were the best kind, when she wasn’t really being punished. When she reached him, he didn’t arrange her across his lap in the usual way. Instead, he pulled her to him. He positioned her so that her legs parted over his left thigh and she hung against him with her arms around his neck. She wore only a shirt, since her drawers were drying after being washed and her pants were being mended. She felt a wave of pleasure when he grasped her hips and dragged her forward, scraping her sex along the fabric of his trousers. She let out a low moan.