“You have to be kidding me!” Carrie’s mouth hung open wide, gaping at Jessica. “Where is Ray now? Why haven’t you asked him about the cash yet?”

“Ray is still at the hospital with Diana. I haven’t seen him yet.”

Wes leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen, listening and laughing quietly to himself, as Jessica and Carrie whispered between themselves. Catching the words, Ray and Benjamin Franklins, he took his coffee and snuck out the door before the women could spot him. Let the women have their gossip, Jessica would find out soon enough. He just hoped the ladies didn’t get themselves into trouble with their snooping.

Sneaking out the front door, Wes walked down the long road, past the ranch house and the barn, and climbed into his truck, placing his travel mug gently into the cup holder. Now, that Ray was family, he was providing the ranch, as well as his coffee fiend wife, Jessica, with Texas’ finest coffee beans. Ray made the habit of picking up several pounds weekly in Kent. Wes never wasted a drop of the delicious brew.

Rolling down the windows to let in the cool, spring morning air, Wes headed to the Poke Town Post Office. Much to the suspicion of Post Master Glenn, Wes had been frequenting the place as of late, doubling his usual visits.

As he pulled into the empty parking spot, Wes looked up at the handwritten sign on the door of the bar next door. Chuckling at Ray’s abrupt dismissal of his lifelong career, Wes read the words aloud, “Ray’s is closed. Maybe forever.” Good for him, Wes thought, getting out of the truck. Good for him.

Wes and Ray had become close over the past few months, and Ray had discussed his reservations of the bar lifestyle. At the end of the conversation, Ray had looked around his own bar walls with a look of utter disdain, causing Wes to wonder how much longer Ray would be a bartender.

Glenn looked up from his want ads as Wes entered the tiny Post Office. “Wes! What a pleasant surprise, three times, this week. Love seeing a fresh face. There has been a real lack of social exchanges since Ray shut down our bar.” Slapping the newspaper down on the counter, Glenn went to the back to retrieve The Lonestar Cattle Company’s mail.

Wes usually came to the post office, once per week, like clockwork. Routine held Wes together. Running the ranch and caring for his family and employees who were family as well, left little room in Wes’ life for ‘winging it’. Flying by the seat of her pants was Carrie’s way to approach life, not Wes’. Always running late and harried by her poor planning, Carrie was his opposite in this way, and her last-minute tendencies often led to the seat of those flying pants being warmed by his hand.

With the possibility of Garrett dropping a line, Wes had taken to frequenting the small office. “Just checking the mail,” Wes said casually. Phone calls were not a part of the program at Freefall, but letter writing was encouraged. Having not yet heard from his brother, Wes’ hopes rose just a tad as Glenn handed him the bundle.

Today, Wes’ change in routine was well rewarded. A huge, childish grin crossed Wes’ face as he glanced at a stack of bills and adverts, topped off with the bright, shiny colors of a postcard.

“Thanks, Glenn,” Wes said, turning and hurrying out of the door before questions could be asked. Any communication from Garrett was a gift and Wes wanted to enjoy it, alone. Carrie had warned Wes not to get his hopes up about the results of the rehabilitation program, but how can you not when your baby brother has a second chance at life? Eager to read the card, Wes climbed into the truck.

Placing the mail in the passenger seat, Wes would not allow himself one glance at the postcard until he was alone in a quiet place to think. Pulling out of his parking spot, Wes drove down Main Street until he reached the entrance to the dirt road that lead to a rarely used river access.

Parking the truck and picking up the postcard, Wes walked down the trail to the river. He took a seat on a smooth, wide river rock that faced the flowing water. Holding the postcard in his hand, he memorized every detail of the cover. It was a photograph of a surfer, riding an aquamarine wave, the white foam of the crest splashing around the nose of the board. Wes flipped the card over, feeling a pang of homesickness at the sight of Garrett’s familiar, compact italic printing.

Brother,

Here at Freefall drying out. Not fun and no surfing, but a lot of pretty alcoholics. Usually meet women at bars but ironically doing the reverse, though dating is discouraged. In all seriousness though, I am facing my mistakes and beginning to find peace with my many, many, faults. To quote George Elliot, “The beginning of compunction is the beginning of a new life.” Wes, thank you for my new life. This time, I will not let you down.

Your younger and much better-looking brother,

Garrett

Tears stung the backs of Wes’ eyes as he chuckled happily at Garrett’s classic closing remark. Wes pulled his phone from his shirt pocket to look up, compunction, having never heard the word before. At the top of his class before he left college to take over the ranch, it was not because of his amazing academic ability, those skills had gone to Garrett. Being a hard worker had earned Wes his grades.

“Compunction,” Wes murmured to himself, “a feeling of guilt or moral scruple that prevents or follows the doing of something bad.” Flipping the card over, Wes stared at the surfer on the front. The massive wave reminded Wes of a drink coaster he had seen under his beer once, at Ray’s. The coaster had a similar wave with the overlapping words, “In the waves of change, we can find our true direction.”

Garrett was finally riding his own wave of change. Standing, Wes carefully put the postcard into the back pocket of his jeans, returning his phone to his shirt, closing the pocket with a snap. Wes chose several small, smooth stones and walked down to the water.

Skipping the rocks over the glassy surface of the water, Wes enjoyed the sunshine warming his back, and the promise of a new day.

* * *

Pulling the Jeep into the driveway of the cottage, Ray sighed with relief as he turned the key to cut the ignition. Rubbing his bleary eyes, Ray saw that Jessica’s car was absent. Figuring that she must be out with Evan, Ray climbed out of the Jeep, eager to grab some sleep before his family returned.

Walking up the drive, Ray’s legs and back ached from snoozing in the uncomfortable hospital chair. He had helped Diana get nursing established, teaching a few tricks to the young lactation consultant on duty. Diana’s husband, Mark, had finally made it to the hosptial. Ray had excused himself from the room, watching the sweet reunion from the window in the hallway. When Mark laid eyes on his baby boy for the first time, Ray had broken down and cried right along with the new father.

Buttercup had borrowed Diana’s car and was back and forth between the Bledsoe home and the hospital, packing and bringing Diana the things she needed. The women had bonded and Buttercup did not like to have Diana or the baby out of her sight for too long. Purple circles under her eyes and her face paler than it had ever been, Ray had forced Buttercup to go back to the Bledsoe house and sleep in their guestroom for a few hours before returning to the hospital. She acquiesced on the condition that she could accept Diana’s invitation to stay and help her with the baby for the next week.

Though Ray was more exhausted than he had ever been, the adrenaline and lack of sleep doing a number on his body, he had never felt more in his element than he had in the past twenty-four hours.

Birth was an absolute miracle, and it was an honor to be a part of the process. The skills he had learned from his mother had been put to good use. Ray chuckled to himself as he thought that maybe he made a better midwife than bartender.

Passing through the front door, and kicking it shut with his heel, Ray bypassed the kitchen, too tired to eat, and laid face down on the bed, shoes still on, passing out instantly.

Having no idea how much time had passed, Ray sat up suddenly when the blaring of sirens interrupted his sleep. The sound was getting louder and closer. Rubbing the sleep from his burning, dry eyes, Ray went to the front of the house, pulling back the curtains covering the window. A sheriff’s car and police SUV were tearing down the little street and it looked like they were headed straight for the cottage.

Fear that something had happened to Jessica and Evan hit the pit of his stomach like a rock. The wind was knocked out of him and his knees went weak as the cars pulled into the drive, right behind his jeep.

Ray had caught a glimpse of a few of Jessica’s murder movies in the early days, before he had put his foot down about that trashy nonsense. But now, a flash of the familiar scene came into his mind. There were always two cop cars that would come to the front door, announcing to the family in a foreboding voice, “There’s been an accident.”

Reminding himself to breath, Ray opened the door as the two officers made their way out of their cars. Not recognizing them as Poke Town law enforcement, Ray stood still in the doorway.

The sheriff approached him, deputy not far behind. “Ray Stevenson?” the man asked Ray.

“Yes, sir. Is everyone okay?” Ray asked.

“Is who okay?” the sheriff asked, looking puzzled.

“My family,” Ray demanded.

The two men shared a glance with one another, then the deputy spoke, “We aren’t here for your family, Ray. We are here for you. We are going to need you to come down to the station with us. We have some questions to ask you.”

The thought that he might be dreaming in his state of exhaustion crossed Ray’s mind as he asked, “What about?”

“We have had an anonymous tip that you may be involved with a money laundering scheme,” the sheriff said.

“Largest one in Texas, being uncovered to date,” the deputy added.

“What in the Texas tarnation?” between the ludicrousness of the request and brutal exhaustion he was facing, it was the only response he could come up with.

“Will you come down to the station with us, sir? We’d appreciate your cooperation.”

“Of course,” Ray said, turning back to the house. “I’ve nothing to hide. Let me get my things and call my wife.”

“That’ll be just fine, we will wait right here.” The men stood awkwardly by the stoop, eyeing Ray suspiciously.

Ray quickly gathered his belongings, dialing Jessica’s number. Receiving her voicemail, he tried Wes.

Getting Wes’ voicemail as well, he opted to leave a message for him. No need to panic Jessica until he had this cleared up. “Wes, the sheriff and deputy are here. I’ve got to go down and answer some questions about money laundering, of all the things. If you could meet me down there, I’d appreciate it.”

Shaking his head, Ray gave a delirious chuckle at the strange situation. Taking one last look around the cottage, as if he would find answers, Ray left the house, locking the door behind him.

* * *

“Doesn’t this just beat all,” Wes said, standing outside of the police station with Ray. After receiving Ray’s voicemail, Wes linked it with the conversation he had heard between Jessica and Carrie earlier. Settling Evan in at the ranch with Mama for the day, Wes had loaded Jessica and Carrie up in Mama’s sedan, and taken them to the station with him.

“Our girls,” Ray said, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck. “A couple of super sleuths.”

The men looked over to the car, Jessica and Carrie huddled together anxiously in the back seat.

Carrie and Jessica had taken their conversation from the ranch, to the Burger Barn for fries and a milkshake. A town busybody who read too many newspapers had overheard Jessica and Carrie talking in the Burger Barn. Hearing that Ray’s new wife was mystified by the suspicious amount of cash that she had found in their home, the woman had instantly reported it to the county. The papers were chock full of the story of a money launderer hooked up with the Mexican drug cartel, washing giant amounts of cash around inconspicuous, small Texas towns. Assuming she had pegged the ring leader, Ray Stevenson, residing in her hometown of Poke, the woman had made the call and tipped the sheriff off.

“I’m just sorry I didn’t nip this in the bud earlier, Ray. I might have stopped it from getting this far,” Wes said, regretting that he had not interjected himself into their wives chatting about the Benjamins this morning.

“All’s well that ends well,” Ray said with a chuckle. “But I will say, our women have very active imaginations.”

“This isn’t the first time Carrie’s wild hair has gotten her into trouble, and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” Wes chuckled.

“This is a first for me. Jessica and I will be having a chat when we get home, that is for certain,” Ray said.

Wes would be chatting with his own wife as soon as they got home. “I’ll take care of mine; you take care of yours. We just better get them both out of here before that sheriff gets a hold of them,” Wes said, looking over his shoulder. Holding in a laugh, Wes gazed at the red-faced man who was staring down heatedly at the girls from his window. After questioning Ray for only fifteen minutes, the team was agitated to realize they were working a bunk tip. “He really thought he had a lead.”

“Nope. Just a couple of gals trying to solve a mystery and talking way too loud in a small-town burger joint,” Ray said. “And getting themselves into trouble while they are at it,” he added.

“Let me know if you need to use the barn,” Wes offered.

“I think I have a good plan for Nancy Drew.” Ray looked at Jessica, who gave him a small smile and nervous wave from the back seat of the car. “But I’m going to keep that offer in my back pocket for next time. I’m too angry to trust myself with leather.”

* * *

Arriving back at the ranch, Wes grabbed Carrie’s hand and led her up to their house. Entering the kitchen, Wes pulled out a kitchen chair. “Sit yourself right down in this chair, young lady.” Crossing his arms, Wes stood by the table watching his nervous wife. Peeking up at him through her lashes, Carrie quietly sat down.

Nosiness was a trait that had gotten Carrie into trouble with Wes before. Her last birthday had come complete with a well-earned birthday spanking. Wes had hidden her gift as well as he could, knowing Carrie’s snooping nature. She had still found the gift, peeled back the paper and peeked, and lied about it later when Wes had confronted her. The tear she had left in the paper had given her away, and the birthday girl had ended up in the barn over Wes’ knee for a good old-fashioned strapping with her little, brown leather strap.

The snooping Wes could have let go unpunished. He knew his little girl couldn’t stand not knowing what her present was going to be. Lying to Daddy, on the other hand, earned a serious penalty.

Carrie had blown out her birthday candles on a sore tushy, and acted like an angel the rest of the party. As always, after Wes set her straight with his firm, loving correction, Carrie couldn’t keep her hands off him that night.

Wes had made Carrie take a pregnancy test after the milkshake incident. It was negative, but Wes wasn’t taking any chances with her health. No spankings until he was one thousand percent sure that his little girl was well. That didn’t mean that Daddy was going to let his little girl go unpunished. Sitting curly haired and face flushed with embarrassment, Carrie looked perfectly naughty and adorable. Wes wanted nothing more than to have Carrie bare her bottom to him for a good, sound spanking. The kind that warmed her skin and left her bottom burning all afternoon. And she had earned it, but that would not work today, so Daddy was going to have to get creative.

Pulling out the chair next to Carrie, Wes sat down, hands folded on the table. “Carrie, look at me, please.”

Her brown chocolate eyes met his, shining with unshed tears. “Oh, Wes, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. It all just happened so fast and…” she began to reply.

Holding out a hand to stop her response, Wes said, “That’s enough, baby girl. I understand why you did what you did, but it was still wrong to do so. You never should have stuck your nose into Ray and Jessica’s business. And if you did think that something strange was going on, what should you have done?”

“Come to you?”

“Yes, right away. Daddy handles the big stuff and the dangerous stuff, not Carrie. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Carrie answered.

“Yes, what, Carrie?” Wes asked.

“Yes, sir,” she sniffled.

“The worst part of this whole mess is that you and Jessica have put Ray’s reputation on the line. Once gossip gets out in Poke, it is impossible to control, no matter what the real story is.”

“I know; I feel just terrible about it.”

“But you didn’t when you were getting caught up in the drama of it all, did you?” Carrie loved excitement and mysteries and Wes often had to rein her in before she got carried away. “You let your imagination run wild and it was at the expense of a friend. I’d like you to sit in this chair. I have a few things I need to get done on the ranch. Once I figure out what to do with you, I’ll be back.”

Carrie’s wide eyes blinked at Wes in disbelief, “You aren’t going to spank me?”

“Not this time.” Wes didn’t mention his concerns for Carrie’s health. Since her illness, Carrie hated going to doctors, avoiding them at all costs. Wes had scheduled an appointment for Carrie for next week, but knew that it was better to wait until just hours before to tell her about it. That way Carrie didn’t have to worry herself sick over the inevitable trip.

Rising from his chair, Wes gave Carrie a kiss on the head. “Now, be a good girl, and sit here quietly till I get back. I want you to think about things and maybe make a plan for what you are going to do next time you get one of your wild gumshoe hairs.”

“Daddy?” Carrie asked.

“Yes?”

“Can I have a snack?”

Wes chuckled as he heard her tummy rumble. “Yes, baby. What would you like?” Far be it from him to hold back food from his hungry gal, naughty or nice.

“Milk and cookies,” Carrie said with a decisive nod of her head.

“Treats are for good girls. Not naughty girls,” Wes said, sternly. “I’ll make you a sandwich.”

Letting the pouty look go, Carrie was in enough trouble as it was, Wes made the sandwich, cutting it diagonally to form two triangles as was required by his little lady. Wes had figured out what her punishment was going to be. Writing the line, “I will not interfere in the lives of others” until the thought was planted in his little girl’s mind.

* * *

Twirling her hair in her fingers, Jessica sat anxiously at the kitchen table of the cottage. A furious Ray stood towering over her, arms crossed in front of him. Jessica had yet to see Ray irate. It was a quiet, unnervingly calm kind of anger.

“How could you possibly think that of me, Jessica?” Ray asked, his rumbling voice low.

“I just got carried away. It was a lot of cash,” Jessica answered, thinking of the stacks and stacks of bills that she had found. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?” she asked softly.

Running a hand through his short hair, Ray paced the kitchen. “I was going to, but I wanted to wait until after the wedding. I was afraid if you knew that I had it, it would be harder for you to stick to the budget I gave you.”

“There was enough money in this house to pay for ten weddings, Ray Stevenson.” Anxiety melting into her own anger, Jessica felt her temper flare. Sure, she and Carrie had gotten Ray hauled down to the jail to be questioned, but he had played a major part in this too. “Lying by omission, right, Ray?”

“Damnit, Jessica.” Ray’s voice was dangerous. Placing his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, Ray’s dark eyes locked on her.

Staring at Ray, Jessica froze, her finger dandling in a strand of her hair. “What is going on, Ray?” she asked, shocked by the curse word that Ray had thrown at her.

Leaving his stance behind the chair, Ray took up pacing again. His huge body moved through the small kitchen as he spoke. “It was supposed to be a surprise. I wasn’t omitting, I wasn’t lying, I was trying to surprise you. I hid the money in the places that you would never look, making sure to write on the paper that I wrapped the cash in for you to come see me right away if you found it.”

In her haste of counting the Benjamins, Jessica had thrown the white paper away, not giving it a second glance. Standing from her chair, Jessica walked over to the trash can. Pulling out a piece of butcher block paper, she flipped it over in her hands. Inside the creases where the money had rested was Ray’s neat handwriting. Jessica read the words, “I told you it pays to eat your vegetables, Miss Jessica. Talk to me as soon as you find this.” A sinking feeling hit the bottom of Jessica’s stomach.

“I missed the note,” she said, “but what kind of surprise requires that much cash?”

“A big one.” Sighing, Ray sat down in the chair, rubbing his head through his hands. Resting his elbows on the table, Ray looked tired. “I understand the situation that I put you in, I really do, Jessica.” His eyes locked on hers and the look in them made Jessica feel shame before he spoke the words. “I just wish you trusted me enough to come to me, first. Not go to Carrie and start this whole mess.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight, Ray. I just got caught up in the mystery of it all. But it was a lot of cash.”

“And I’m sorry for the way you found it,” Ray said. “But I am livid that you didn’t come to me, Jessica. Absolutely livid.”

Jessica sat in the chair across from Ray. “And I apologize, Ray. But I still don’t know where the heck you got all those hundred-dollar bills. I swear I have never seen that much money in my life. Can you fill me in, now?”

Looking over Jessica’s head, Ray said, “Whether it’s right or wrong, if we stay in this house another minute, I know I am going to end up taking off my belt and whipping your behind.”

Jessica gulped, nervously hoping there was another plan. Having made it through one punishment spanking, her rear end cherry red just as Ray had promised, Jessica wasn’t sure that she was ready to test Ray’s belt.

A smile crossed Ray’s face and he chuckled at her reaction to his threat. “Go get in the Jeep. That should protect your rear end from me a little while longer.” Jessica breathed a sigh, hopping up to hurry to the Jeep.

“I’ll take you to the surprise. I’ll explain the rest on the drive,” Ray said, grabbing his keys and landing a sharp slap on Jessica’s departing rear.

Safely nestled on her bottom in the passenger seat of the Jeep, Jessica listened, intrigued by her husband’s story.

“My mom grew up dirt poor. She didn’t charge people much, if anything, to attend their births. But people would give her stuff all the time, eggs, bread, meat, yardwork, fix her car, things of that nature. When one of the wealthier families left town, they left my mom the deed to their house. That was the home I was raised in.” Ray’s eyes stayed focused on the road as he spoke.

“When I took over Ray’s, I was bound and determined not to squander the money away. Ray’s doesn’t always make a lot of money, but there was enough income that if I lived frugally, I could squirrel something away. About twenty years ago, I started to invest in real estate. Poke Town was even smaller then. You remember,” he gave a glance to Jessica.

“Yes. A post office, a feed store, The Grill and Ray’s. The Burger Barn and Five N Dime didn’t come till I was in high school. Good old Poke.”

“Yes, good old Poke,” Ray said. “Property was cheap. I started with the little bungalows on Carter Street. As I saved up enough cash, as soon as one came available, I would buy it. Back then, I could by a thousand square feet for less than twenty grand. I started to rent the houses out- basing the cost of the rent on income.”

“I had no idea,” Jessica murmured, thinking of the older people and families living happily on Carter.

“A few years later I started purchasing strip malls in Clinton. After building slowed in the financial crisis of 2008, those buildings were dirt cheap. I didn’t need more income, so I knew I could be patient and just leave them empty for a few years as the economy recovered. Now they make,” Ray shrugged his shoulders, “let’s just say neither one of us would have to work again if we didn’t want to.”

Letting the knowledge sink in, Jessica asked, her voice a hushed whisper, “Why cash?”

“Most of my tenants pay me cash after that big bubble burst and the economy collapsing. Just don’t trust banks. When you and I became official, I started to put the cash I got from rents aside and taking out cash withdrawals from my commercial properties income, I pay for everything in cash. I have been setting it aside for this project. As soon as it was finished, my plan was to surprise you with it. I was going to show you the financial side of my deals and tell you that you and Evan were set for life. I wasn’t trying to omit, I promise. I just wanted it to be one, big unveiling for you.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your surprise,” Jessica said, a sick feeling burying itself in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m sorry I got angry, Jessica,” Ray apologized softly. “Now, that I am finally getting to share it with you, I realize the surprise doesn’t matter. And I’m sorry I kept you in the dark for so long. I was trying to pull off an amazing, romantic gesture. I can see how it would be scary discovering so much cash randomly hidden in the house.” Chuckling, Ray said, “You must have thought I was in the mafia, or something.”

Relief washed over Jessica at the sound of Ray’s laughter. “I was trying to put the pieces together and I would think of you as some mob type, roughing up business owners for cash or something. Then I would picture you crying at Kevin’s funeral, or driving Mr. Callaway home, and it just didn’t work. But I had no idea where all that money had come from.” It was a surreal feeling to know you had married a man thinking he had a modest income, and now found out he was filthy rich by making smart business choices. “How long have you been wealthy?”

“Let’s see, I’ve been doing okay for the past ten years, but it’s really been in the last five years that we,” Ray looked at Jessica pointedly, “became well off. It’s all your money too, now. What’s mine is yours, and our son’s.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jessica said, “Thank goodness, we won’t have to be so frugal.”

Ray raised his brow to Jessica, “Within certain limits, yes, you can spend freely. But we didn’t get to this place by blowing money. There will still be a budget, young lady.”

Jessica groaned. “Great, the first time in my life I don’t have to worry about money and I’m already in trouble for spending. You certainly are thrifty, Ray.” Unable to help herself, Jessica’s mind filled with the images of the boutiques in Clinton that she had only been able to window shop at.

The Jeep slowed as they reached the entrance to a dirt road. There was a real estate sign staked by side of the road, boasting the words, 80 acres. The red letters, SOLD, had been tacked over the top of the road sign. Ray turned the Jeep onto a winding, private drive, shaded by trees.

As they made their way up the hill, Jessica gasped at the view. Around the bend of the private drive, on top of the hill, was the framing for a house. A large house. Men donned in construction gear dotted the scene, their big trucks parked in front of the worksite.

“It’s a house,” Jessica gasped. She had talked Ray’s ear off in the early days of their relationship about her dream home. Driving through the Texas hill country, Jessica had always admired the large ranch style homes set up high on the crest of the hilltops.

“I’m sorry to say we can’t walk around up there. The crew is on site and the place is dangerous at this point. But it has a big old kitchen, five bedrooms, three baths, and a place to have a salon in the back, if you want. It will be safe to walk around inside in a few weeks. I was going to bring you to meet with the contractor. Then take you to Kent to pick your cabinets, paint colors, fixtures, flooring, all that good stuff for the big reveal.” Ray grabbed Jessica’s hand in his. “But this is good, too.”

“Oh, Ray.” Jessica gave Ray’s hand a squeeze. “You bought me a house. A big, beautiful house.” Staring in amazement, Jessica said, “I’m going to have a hard time not being on site every day.”

“Only if I am here. It can be dangerous, and I don’t know the men personally. You call me first and I will take you,” Ray said.

“I’ll be fine, Ray,” Jessica said with a wave of her hand, unable to tear her eyes away from the framing.

“I’m serious, Miss Jessica. I’ll tell the foreman if a gorgeous blonde is sneaking on site to call me immediately. I will take a belt to your behind right then and there, the construction crew can watch. I’m sure it would make their day.”

“You wouldn’t dare, Ray Stevenson!” Jessica exclaimed, imagining herself in the very predicament her husband had just described.

“Don’t try me, Miss Jessica,” Ray said, his tone a warning. Jessica would be sure to call Ray to take her to visit the house

“Five bedrooms you said?” Jessica asked, hoping to take the attention from her bottom.

“It’s a little big, but I was hoping you’d help me fill it up with kids,” Ray said shyly

“How many kids?” Jessica asked in wonderment, eyeing the early stages of what would be a manor.

“As many as you will give me,” Ray said, eyeing her wistfully.

Jessica had always assumed that she would have a child with Ray, when Evan was a little older. Now, staring at the beginnings of what was going to be her dream home, Jessica could almost picture children pouring out of the door and spilling over the lawn. Little boys and girls running along the grass, playing together. Ray throwing them in the air and catching them, the laughter, the love. Looking at Ray, Jessica asked, “When do you want to start?”

“Really?” Ray asked, joy in his voice. Jessica nodded in response.

“I’d like to start trying as soon as possible. Maybe right after your spanking,” Ray said with a wink.

“Spanking?” Jessica’s mind left the house and fictional children, and worried about the leather belt that was wrapped around Ray’s waist. “I think you have just as much responsibility in this as I do,” she protested.

“Maybe,” Ray shrugged. “But what would I have done, Miss Jessica, had the situation been reversed, and I found something strange? Do you think I would have gone straight to my friend, told them all about it and begin investigating the situation?”

“No,” Jessica answered, shamefully.

Turning towards Jessica in his seat, Ray said, “That’s right. I would have come directly to you and asked you myself, wouldn’t I?” he finished, his tone stern and his eyes dark.

“Yes, sir,” Jessica answered sheepishly. “I guess I read a few too many Nancy Drew mysteries growing up.”

“You and Carrie got yourselves into a whole heap of trouble. You don’t get your husband hauled off to jail, take up a full day of a sheriff and a deputy, without taking a well-deserved trip over your husband’s knee, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, sir,” Jessica muttered.

“You two are just lucky we didn’t leave you with the sheriff. I think he would have liked the chance to roast both of your hineys.” Ray chuckled. “That man was mad as a hornet.”

“He was pretty upset,” Jessica said, remembering the man’s red face glaring down at her from his office window.

“We can walk around out here for a bit. I’d like to show you the property. But when we get home, you will wait for me on the couch, young lady. Nancy Drew has earned herself a good old-fashioned spanking.”

* * *

Laying over Ray’s lap, Jessica stared at the familiar pattern on her living room rug thinking how she had never noticed the little yellow flowers hidden in the fabric before. Having been in this position several times since Ray had become her husband, Jessica and the rug were becoming very familiar with one another. Hands pressed into the plush carpet, Jessica listened as Ray lectured her, distracted by his warm hand resting on her bare bottom.

“Furthermore,” he continued, “it is a trust issue. Have I ever given you cause not to trust me?”

“No, sir.” The movement of Ray’s hand as he started to rub it back and forth over Jessica’s skin was melting her insides. Embarrassed, she started to move her hips.

A sharp little smack landed on her bottom. “We will have none of that, young lady. You are here to be punished, not to wiggle around on my lap.”

The light tone in Ray’s voice gave Jessica the idea that he did not intend to punish her very hard. This spanking seemed to be more about making a point. He continued to caress her, his hand moving to the soft curve of her seat.

Holding in a moan, Jessica stilled her hips. Ray was driving her crazy with his hand.

Ray’s hand stopped caressing. Slap, slap, slap, slap, his hand spanked her sit spots, alternating sides. The slaps were light, gentle slaps that stung her skin.

Pulling out the hard covered book he had found on the shelf in the living room, Ray said, “Now, you are going to count out ten smacks of this book. Let’s see, Nancy Drew number five, The Secret of Shadow Ranch. Was it a good one?”

Groaning with embarrassment, Jessica managed to mumble, “It was my favorite one.”

“Very well. It will be a reminder to you to come to me before solving any mysteries on your own. Now count.”

Counting out the gentle thuds, as they landed on her bottom, Jessica was mortified to be spanked with her girlhood novel. She was also incredibly turned on by the way Ray was handling her body. The spanking he was giving her was not painful, but instead arousing. The little slaps leaving just enough sting on her bottom for the warmth to spread to other places. It was a punishment given in a different manner, forcing Jessica to see the immaturity of her actions, but in a way that made her feel cared for and closer to Ray. And there was a measure of trust that was growing with every spanking.

“Five, thud, six,” Jessica continued to count as the hardcover landed on her bottom.

Having Ray as her daddy, was opening a place in Jessica that she hadn’t know was there, an untapped source of peace and serenity. Being able to lean on Ray and allow him to take charge of life while caring for her in his special way, had softened a part of Jessica that life had hardened. She was now a wife with worldly responsibilities, but in Ray’s arms, and over his lap, she could release the world and give herself over to her man.

“Ten,” Jessica said as the book came down for the tenth time.

“And now just a good old-fashioned over the knee spanking for my naughty girl.” Ray’s hand came down in a rhythm, spank, spank, spank. Like the punishment with the book, the smacks were not hard. Instead of bringing pain, the spanking brought submission. Just a naughty little girl having her bottom smacked by her daddy. Spank, spank, spank.

“All done, honey,” Ray said, rubbing Jessica’s curves. Helping Jessica to her feet, Ray kissed her sweetly. Kneeling, Ray pulled up Jessica’s panties and jeans. Zipping and buttoning the jeans, Ray stood beside her and handed Jessica the Nancy Drew book.

Feeling her face burn as she held the book in her hand, Ray said, “Go put that on the top shelf, please, where it can easily be seen. And don’t make me take it back down again. Your mystery solving days are over.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Jessica quickly obeyed, surveying the shelf after she placed the book onto it. The yellow binding peeked out from the other duller colored books. A friendly reminder that she was Ray’s girl.

Shyly, Jessica made her way back to Ray.

“I’m sorry about all that,” Jessica said, waving her hand in the air as an all-encompassing gesture of what had taken place that day.

Wrapping his arms around her, Ray said, lovingly, “We were both at fault. I still wanted you to lay over my lap and consent to me spanking you. A sweet little spanking to remind you who your daddy is.”

“It was a very sweet spanking,” Jessica said, unable to meet Ray’s eyes. It was sweet and spicy, she longed to be making up with Ray, right now.

“That was my intention. And if the side effect was revving you up for a fun afternoon between the sheets, so be it. I wasn’t kidding about filling up that house.” Ray held her tighter, his hands rubbing her back and her bottom.

“It had that effect,” Jessica said, wrapping her arms around Ray’s neck.

“Good,” Ray said, grabbing the backs of Jessica’s thighs and lifting them up and around his waist. Jessica wrapped her legs tightly around Ray’s middle and keeping her arms around his neck, laughed as Ray carried her off into the bedroom.