Friday, April 23, 2010

The Rainstorm


Angry gray clouds were gathering as Debbie Carruthers anxiously scanned the skies from her living room window. Eight months of living in the small Wyoming town of Red Fork certainly did not make her an expert in forecasting the quirky mountain weather--she knew that. But she also knew the local radio station always played up storm warnings. Jim had told her to stay put till he got back from the Hawkins' place--another ewe having trouble with her lamb!--but Debbie just couldn't bear another Saturday afternoon alone in the house. There was plenty of work she could be doing in her schoolroom at Red Valley Elementary.

Jim on call again! When she had married Jim and moved to Red Fork, she had no idea how busy a country veternarian could be. A city vet could keep regular hours treating pampered house pets, but out here there was no such luxury. The ranching community depended on healthy animals for its very survival. The locals had already come to rely on Jim, in practice now as junior partner with Doc Hargrove. It was hard on the young couple to have to spend so much time apart, but especially so for Debbie. Jim had grown up nearby and was used to the life, but it was all new to her, from Denver and basically a city girl. She was beginning to learn that the citizens of Red Fork were a hardy breed, used to the vast spaces and accustomed to getting by on their own. The nearest hospital was thirty miles away. And the nearest mall? Forget it! Sometimes Debbie feared she would never fit in.

Her teaching job helped, even if it was only a temporary appointment. She felt she would work her way into a permanent position, and her earnings had made it possible for them to put a down payment on a little place in the foothills above town. The house was old and not much to look at, but they were just starting out. They would make a go of it.

Even now Debbie scanned the odd jumble of things with which she had tried to decorate. She had managed to get hold of a beautiful Navajo rug and some nice pottery, but that huge old orange sofa that Jim insisted they could not afford to replace! It seemed to swallow up the whole living room. And she couldn't believe she had a stuffed elk's head on her wall! It was an old trophy of Jim's that he just wouldn't part with. Debbie had taken to calling it "Mr. Antlers" and greeting it every morning. Jim retorted that maybe Red Fork really was driving her insane.

Deb sighed gloomily and escaped into the bedroom. She pulled on a pair of blue jeans and tugged at her cowboy boots. Living out West could be hard sometimes, but she loved the casual dress. She went to the window one more time to check on the storm, then decided to go all the same. Jim was just being overly protective, she told herself.

He had the four-wheel drive, of course, but she figured she could rely on her trusty VW, left over from her college days. As she got into the car she thought that maybe she should try to call Jim at the Hawkins' place, but once behind the wheel she decided not to bother. He would only remonstrate with her. Besides, she would surely be home before Jim got back.


"Chief, just got a call from Jim Carruthers, the vet. He thinks his wife is out in the storm somewhere."

Chief Brady, head of the town's five-man police force, turned to see Mabel Perkins at the door of the radio room.

"Debbie?" he inquired. "New teacher at the grade school?"

"Know her?"

"Sure. You know I'm out front of the school directing traffic every morning."

"Well, Jim's concerned. Thinks she may have gone down to the school to do some work. He just got in himself and she wasn't at home."

This was a problem. Chief Brady knew the creeks rose awfully fast and the roads were getting bad. His little department already had its hands full with reports of downed wires and washouts.

"We could send Smitty over to the school to see if she's there," Mabel suggested.

The chief smiled. Mabel was a local rancher and the town's unpaid mayor, a ball of energy who was never at a loss for a plan of action. She had come down to Red Fork's "town hall"--really just the police depot and some extra office space--figuring that that's where the mayor should be. The chief didn't mind that she was there. Quite the contrary. Like him, she was an "old hand": a long-time resident who was level-headed in a crisis.

"Nah, no need," he said. I'll take the Bronco myself and check it out. You hold the fort."

"Okay, but...you look worried, Brady."

"I'm thinking of Debbie, poor girl. She's not used to living in country like this. Hard on her. Jim needs to pay more attention to her. Buy her some flowers, take her out on the town."

Mabel was a little skeptical.

"I'd say 'take her over his knee' is more like it," she opined.

The chief laughed.

"Well, this is a pretty silly stunt, I'll grant you that. And I can't say it wouldn't do her some good. I did raise three daughters, you know."

"And fine ones, too."

Mabel thought a moment.

"Listen, once you've got her safe and sound, get me on the radio. I'll call Jim and have a little talk with him."


Debbie sat huddled in the front seat of the VW and looked at her watch. Three hours had passed since she had left the house, three of the scariest hours she had ever known. Near Miller Creek the rain had come down so hard she had pulled off the road to wait it out. Then when she tried to get going again, the car wouldn't start. She turned the key and-- nothing! Everything was probably soaking wet inside. She wouldn't have minded waiting-- except Miller Creek was rising ominously.

She was on the edge of panic and tears. It was getting dark, and quite cold, and it might be all night before someone happened along the lonely mountain road. She berated herself for not at least calling the Hawkins' place to let Jim know where she was headed. All because she didn't want to hear Jim's protestations. Now even a scolding from him would sound sweet!

Suddenly, she saw the glare of headlights in the rearview mirror. She was out of the car in a flash, waving frantically, heedless of the pouring rain. As the vehicle neared, she could see the driver talking on the radio. It was Chief Brady! She was never happier to see anyone in her life.


Jim drove down to the police station to pick her up. Debbie ran into his arms and he gave her a little hug, but said nothing. Deb knew instantly that he was very angry with her. Well, I guess I have it coming, she thought, and didn't let it bother her too much. She was just so happy to be safe and sound. She had been really, really scared, and when Jim pulled into the driveway their little house looked so cozy! Home at last! She felt warm and safe again, and figured it would not be long before Jim thawed, too.

She went directly to the bedroom to get out of her wet things. As she was towelling off her long brown hair, she heard Jim's voice from the living room.

"As soon as you get those blue jeans off, you can come out here and take your spanking."

She stopped in mid-towel and looked up, stunned. Had she heard correctly?

"Debbie? Don't make me come in there."

She went to the doorway, still disbelieving. Jim spoke to her calmly but forcefully.

"Don't just stand there, young lady. You know as well as I do that you deserve a licking for all the trouble you've caused today, and you're going to get one. So stop dawdling, it won't do you any good."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Jim held up his hand.

"Now, Deborah, I mean it."

Debbie stuck out her lower lip in a childish pout and turned back into the bedroom. When Jim was serious about something, there was no talking to him. And he certainly seemed serious about this. But she still couldn't believe it. Go over his knee like a six-year-old?

She toyed with the idea of resistance. If she held out just a little, perhaps he might forget the whole silly idea. But no, a man who handled thousand-pound steers for a living would have no problem handling a naughty wife. And that was the problem-- she had been naughty! She couldn't suspend her schoolteacher's judgment, which told her: Debbie deserves a paddling!

Okay, Deb decided, if I have to take a spanking to be restored to Jim's good graces, so be it. Jim was stubborn but he wasn't mean. She'd only get what she had coming.

She took off her jeans and laid them on the bed. She arranged her lacy pink Olgas neatly over her buttocks-- she would try to maintain as much dignity as she could. Then she marched out and stood before her husband.

She tried a doe-eyed, penitential look, but it had no effect. He simply looked at her expectantly, and of course she knew what she had to do. Over his knee she went, as daintily as she could, offering to him her soft and shapely woman's bottom. She felt like she was yielding to an irresistible force, like raging Miller Creek. Jim gathered her in, and she snuggled down against his thick corduroys, feeling beneath her his strongly-muscled thighs.

Face down on those ugly orange cushions, Debbie turned to survey the extent of her predicament. She was pinned and helpless in her panties, positioned for very sound punishment indeed! She caught a glimpse of Mister Antlers on the wall behind her. Like some doting, dignified old uncle, he would not look directly at his darling's plight, but instead stared off into the distance, embarrassed for her.

Jim waited till she was still, and then commenced. The blows came slowly and evenly-- Jim was a methodical man. It was like administering a dose of bitter medicine, bit by bit. The spanks would have a cumulative effect. The first dozen were accepted stoically, but as the second began she swallowed hard, and the third set of twelve elicited a number of plaintive little yelps. Debbie began a desperate squirming, but Jim was prepared, and grasped her even more firmly. The next twelve came down extra hard and squarely on the moving target, so that Debbie stopped, thoroughly convinced of his steadfastness of purpose. She again submitted meekly, fervently hoping Jim would soon relent. She relaxed as best she could under his iron grip, but the spanks continued to rain down on her now thoroughly tenderized bottom.

"Please stop, Jim!" Debbie wailed. "Please! I'll never disobey you again."

Fat chance, he thought, and pretended not to hear. But only a half-dozen more brought forth a flood of tears, before which he knew he was helpless. He loosened his grip.

Deb jumped up quickly, her backside absolutely burning. She had never in her life been punished like that! She stood awestruck and speechless before her husband.

"I only did this because I love you, Debbie. You could have died out there today. I had to make you realize that. That and...well, that I couldn't live without you."

She bit her trembling lip and through her tears she could see he was telling the truth. Now the full wave of her love for him arose within her and she fell into his waiting arms.

"I really am sorry, Jim. I had it coming. Please forgive me. I don't know how you've put up with me lately. I've been so mean and crabby."

"Sweetheart, that's my fault more than yours. I've been working too much and neglecting you. I'll make it up to you, starting this Saturday. Mabel Perkins is having a party at her place. She'd love to meet you. She's great fun-- knows everybody in the county. Want to go?"

"Oh, Jim, I'd love to! It's a date."

She laid her head on his chest, happy even on the orange sofa, as long as she was cuddled in his embrace.


That night she woke from a deep and restful sleep. She had a warm tingly feeling all over. She couldn't tell whether it was from the day's excitement, the thorough spanking, or the night's passionate lovemaking. She quietly slipped out of bed and went to the window. In the sky above the faintly-lit mountains the stars were sparkling. She sighed contentedly. The rain had stopped and the clouds had passed. Dawn would break bright and clear over Red Fork.