April, 1878

"But, I don't understand!  How could this be true?"

The flashing, green eyes flayed elderly Attorney Bennett Hancock, and he shook his balding head sadly.  He’d been on the receiving end of the young woman’s temper before, and he’d been dreading this moment ever since he learned of her mother’s death.  The two men sitting at her side looked more than capable of breaking him in half, and he did his best to maintain his dignity and respect as he spoke to the young woman.  "I am very sorry, Miss Gregory.  Of course you will be given ample time to remove your personal belongings from the house before it is sold.  But all the paintings and furnishings will have to be auctioned, too."

"This is preposterous, Mr. Hancock.  What kind of dirty, shady, underhanded trick are you trying to pull on me?" the girl jumped to her feet and pushed her chair away in agitation.  "My father was a wealthy man!"

"Yes, he was, Miss Gregory," the attorney stood and nervously glanced at the other two men in the room.  "I'm afraid your dear, departed mother wasn't as adept at managing money as your father was, my child.  She lived extravagantly and mortgaged everything."

"Did you know she was doing this, Mr. Hancock?" the voice was hard as ice.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you come to me?  I would have taken control."

"Because your dear mother didn't want to upset you with financial problems, Miss Gregory.  Besides, you are not of legal age."

"There's no need to worry, Cyn, honey.  You can come live with us," one of the gentlemen spoke kindly.

"I don't want to live with you, Uncle Bill!"

"Honey, Mavis made us your guardians," the other man spoke gently but firmly.  "You'll have to come and live on the ranch."

"I'll hate it!"

June, 1876

I hate it!  I hate it!  I hate it! Cynthia Gregory tapped her foot in agitation as she waited for her Uncle George to lift her from the seat of the wagon.  She'd been in this God-forsaken hell-hole called Misty Falls for nearly six weeks now, and she still had to find one thing to like about it!  It was in the middle of nowhere, in Montana!  Cynthia missed Boston; she missed her home; and she missed civilization.  Out here there was just dust and cows and never-ending boredom.

She was used to being pampered and waited upon by servants, but there were no servants at her Uncles' ranch.  Just Uncle Bill's wife, Flora, and their two little boys, Willie and Avery.  Uncle George wasn't married.  And Cynthia was sick and tired of shopping in the small General Store that served the small town.  She was used to having elegant fabrics to choose from, as well as expert seamstresses to sew up the latest fashions.  Misty Falls didn't even have one dress shop!  Not that it made any difference; she was penniless now and didn’t have the money to buy the yard goods offered here!  Yes, her Uncles had told her she could get what she needed and they would pay for it, but she wasn’t having it.

"You can go on to the store and give Ferdie our list, Cyn.  I have some other business to take care of while you shop," George Foster smiled as he helped his niece down.  "Why don't you get some sturdy boots and some heavy material for a riding skirt?" he suggested.  "It isn't good for you to sit in your room all day long moping."

"I don't like horses."  Her tone of voice was frosty.

George Foster muttered something under his breath, but said patiently, "Honey, you're going to be with us for quite a spell, so you'd better make an effort to adjust."

"I hate it here," she stated flatly, and then turned on her heel and marched away before he could do more than shake his graying head.  The loud, boisterous laughter in the store assaulted her ears the moment she walked inside, and Cynthia turned her nose up in disapproval at the three men responsible.  Gentlemen simply did not behave in this manner where she was from, but, of course these three were not gentleman by any stretch of the imagination.  Just more cowboys, and she was sick to death of them!

Ferdie Clapper, whose name was simply ridiculous in her opinion, beamed at her, "'Mornin', Miss Cynthia.  Can I help you find something?"

"I rather doubt it!" she replied tartly, her green eyes raking across the room disdainfully.  "However, my uncle wishes to purchase the items on this list." Her sarcasm was lost on the jovial Ferdie.  He accepted the list with a pleasant nod and said he'd get right to it.

Cynthia flashed a contemptuous glance at the three men staring at her, and then slowly made her way across the room, making it obvious that she intended to ignore them.  She wanted nothing to do with anyone in this God-forsaken place.

"Whooee!  Who do you suppose she is?" the youngest of the three asked in an excited whisper.

"I heard tell that Bill and George Foster's niece was coming to live with them at the ranch.  Maybe she's the one?"

"Aw, come on, Luke.  George wouldn't have no uppity niece like that!"

"She's from Boston, John," Luke said as if that explained the matter.

"She's a spoiled brat," the third man stated bluntly.  "She thinks she's better than everyone here in Misty Falls."  He clearly wasn’t impressed by the young woman’s manner, and wondered why her family permitted her to behave so rudely to folks.  He wouldn’t expect that of Bill and George Foster.

Cynthia heard the man’s remark and felt her cheeks turn red with embarrassment and anger.  Who did that cowboy think he was?  He didn't even know her and he was attacking her character!  She gave him a haughty look and then sniffed.

"Maybe she's just shy?" John suggested in a whisper.  "Come on, Luke.  Let's introduce ourselves."

Cynthia watched the two young men approach and judged them to be in their early twenties.  Both had light brown hair, and the same shade of dark brown eyes.

"Ma'am, I'm John Donnelly, and this is my brother, Luke."

Cynthia pointedly ignored them.  Didn't they know it was improper to introduce themselves to a lady?

"Uh, what's your name?" John continued, determined.

"That, sir, is none of your business," Cynthia spoke sharp­ly.

"Ma'am, people here make it a point to be friendly to strangers," Luke scolded.  "We figured you to be George Foster's niece, Miss Cynthia Gregory, from back east…?"

"How astute!"

Matt Donnelly couldn't help smiling as he saw his younger brothers exchange a mischievous glance.  Miss "High and Mighty" was about to get a royal set-down, or he'd eat his new hat!  His brothers didn’t like to be snubbed and that is exactly what the spoiled Miss was doing.

"Ma'am, there's a town dance Saturday night.  Would you like to go with me?" John asked.

"No!  Of course not!" Cynthia replied, stunned.  "I don't even know you!"

"Besides, she likes me better," Luke gave his brother a playful shove.  "I'll pick you up at seven o'clock, honey."

"You'll do no such thing!" Cynthia argued, her temper close to exploding.  “You are both imbeciles!  Now leave me alone!”

"There's no need to be bashful, honey.  I can teach you to dance if you don't know how!" Luke winked, enjoying himself immensely.

"I am not bashful.  I am not your 'honey'.  And you most certainly will not be teaching me to dance!" Cynthia spoke firm­ly.  "Now leave me alone or I will have you arrested for accost­ing me!"  Nothing like this would ever happen to her in Boston!  How she hated it here!

"’A costing’ you?" John's eyes were full of mischief.  "What's she talking about, Luke?  We sure didn't ask her to pay for anything!"

"I think it means forcing her…?" Luke scratched his head in pretended bewilderment.

"Force her to do what?" John continued, playing the rube for all he was worth, much to Matt’s amusement.

"You know… Kissing and stuff…?"

"Why would she want to pay us for that?" John asked inno­cently.  "I'd do it for free!"

Cynthia felt her temper snap and grabbed the nearest thing she could get her hands on -- a fly swatter -- and began slapping the tar out of the young men for their insolence.  She was furious, and she wasn’t going to let the two get away with their crude remarks!  She was going to give them what for until they begged for mercy, and even then she was going to flay them alive and then boil them in oil for picking on her!  How dare they be so insulting!

Matthew watched in no little amusement as the tiny redhead chased his brothers around and around the store.  She sure was a feisty little thing, and in need of a good taming!  He couldn't imagine letting some female chase him with a fly swatter!  He’d take it from her and give her to know what he thought of such childish behavior.  In his opinion, the rounded part of her anatomy that she used for sitting needed to have a hand applied to it until she was inclined to behave herself and treat folks with some respect.  He couldn’t believe that George and Bill Foster let her act like such a snotty brat!

Cynthia was in a rage, and didn't stop to consider how unladylike her behavior was.  The two cowboys needed a lesson and she was determined to mete it out.  "Take that!" she landed a blow to Luke's shoulder, and then turned and lashed out at John, catching him across the backside as he turned to dodge the blow.  She kept whacking whichever one she could reach, wherever she could, while Luke and John tried to stay out of her reach.

Matt shook his head in disbelief and wondered yet again why one of his younger brothers didn't take the fly swatter from the spoiled little hellion and use it on her backside.  It was exactly what she needed and deserved! 

Cynthia couldn't help but notice the tall man leaning so insolently against the counter, shaking his head, and laughing… at her!  The dark eyes seemed to be issuing a silent challenge that she couldn't resist.  Her temper sparked anew and she decided to give him what for, too.  After all, he was with the other two and guilty by association.

Matt stood his ground as the angry redhead advanced on him brandishing that stupid fly swatter.  If she thought he would turn tail and run, she was in for a rude surprise.  "I'd serious­ly reconsider, little girl," he growled a warning.

"You're no better than they are, cowboy, and you deserve the same treatment!" Cynthia raised her weapon threateningly, pausing when he straightened to his full height.  This man wasn't as young as the other two, and he clearly didn't think she would have the nerve!  He certainly didn’t know her very well!

"I'll give you what you deserve if you so much as tap me with that fly swatter," Matt informed her.  He wasn’t the type of man to let a woman walk all over him, and he wasn’t about to make an exception for this spoiled little girl.

"You wouldn't dare touch me!" Cynthia thrust her chin up in a gesture of defiance.  There were laws about such things, and men did not dare strike grown women!  It simply wasn’t done, and if he did raise a hand to her, her Uncle George would shoot him dead!

"Oh, I'll touch you all right," he contradicted.  "I'll turn you over my knee and touch your backside with the flat of my hand," he elaborated, and then grinned wickedly at the look of pure outrage that shone from her brilliant green eyes.  "Well, little girl?  Are you finished throwing your little tantrum?"

"Tantrum?  Tantrum!" she hissed.  "How dare you!  These two friends of yours accosted me!"

"They were trying to be polite."

"They were rude and insolent!  And so are you!"

"And you are a prissy snob!"  He returned her insults without a bit of guilt.

"Damn you!" Cynthia exploded, and lashed out wildly, strik­ing the tall man across his clean-shaven cheek.  She raised her weapon again, only to have his hand catch her wrist in a vise-like grip.

Matthew used his free hand to pry the fly swatter from her fingers, and then he flashed her another wicked grin.  "I warned you, little girl."  He was going to enjoy this, he decided.

“Let me go!" Cynthia demanded, panicking as she recalled his threat.  "Let me go, I say!"  She kicked and struggled, but was no match for his strength.  “You let me go right now or I’ll have you arrested!” she threatened, resisting for all she was worth.  “Let me go!”

Matt shook his head no, enjoying the panic and temper in her green eyes.  He dragged her across the store to the wooden chair that customers sat upon to try on new shoes and boots, his intention to follow through on his threat growing more and more obvious by the second.  Matt was a man of his word, and the little redhead was about to learn that the hard way.  He was going to spank her until she cried ‘uncle’!

Cynthia couldn't believe the tall stranger would actually dare to strike her, but to her shock and dismay, he sat down on the chair and actually pulled her face-down across his knee.  "You can't do this!" she screamed, trying to wriggle free, but his hold on her was simply too strong and she couldn’t get free.

"Yes, I can," he promised, easily holding her in place with one strong arm around her tiny waist.  "Maybe the next time you think to act like a spoiled brat you'll remember this spanking!"  He raised his right hand and brought it down with a satisfying smack on her rounded backside.

"Oh!" Cynthia cried out in humiliation, kicking her legs.  "Owww!” she yelped loudly when he struck her the second time.  "Stop!"  She couldn’t believe this was actually happening to her!  She’d never been spanked in her entire life, and here was this stranger, taking liberties with her person!  “How dare you manhandle me like this?” she demanded angrily.  “Now let me go before I have you arrested!” she threatened once again!  How could those other men just stand by and do nothing to protect her?  This was simply NOT happening!

"Someone should have done this a long time ago," Matt stat­ed, accompanying his words with a third hard slap.  He was going to set her fanny on fire!  His hand fell quite a few more times, and Cynthia screamed bloody murder each time.  She cursed him, then pleaded with him, and then threatened him, causing him to chuckle at the inventiveness of her words.  Still, he continued to make his point known and applied his hand over and over to her wriggling bottom, wishing he dared to flip up her skirts and petticoats and get down to business!  But, even though the little redhead deserved a damned good spanking, he didn’t have the right to toss up her skirts.

"I only hit you once!" Cynthia pointed out, embarrassed nearly to tears, and desperate to make him stop.  Her poor bottom was stinging and she knew that her delicate skin would be sporting his handprints!

"Yea, Matt," she heard one of her tormentors come to her defense.  "Let her go. She’s had enough now."

"She couldn't have hurt you, big brother," the other added, “And she’s not used to our ways out here!  She’s had enough.” 

To Cynthia's surprise, the tall man chuckled and then set her on her feet.  She wanted to throw something at him, but the burning underneath her skirts convinced her that it would be a huge mistake.  She longed to rub, too, but didn’t dare… not while all three of them, and Ferdie Clapper, were staring at her in various degrees of amusement and chagrin.

"Ma'am, we sure are sorry," John flashed his eldest brother a dirty look.  "We didn't mean for our joshing to go so far."

"Matt's got a quick temper," Luke explained sheepishly.

"I have a temper?" Matt growled, rising to his feet.  “What about her?” he demanded.  “She struck me!”

“Just one time, Matt,” Luke told him.  “Besides, she’s a girl and you hit harder than she does.  Your cheek ain’t even red where she whacked you one.  It was just an ole fly swat,” he argued.

"You owe the lady an apology," John stated rather forcefully.

"I gave her fair warning," Matt argued.

"She's not used to our ways, big brother," Luke continued the argument.  "Besides, George Foster will chew you up and spit you out if you don't tell her you're sorry."

"Sorry for what?" George asked curiously, having heard the last sentence.

"This horrible man assaulted me!" Cynthia accused, pointing at Matthew.

"He did what?" George asked in surprise.

"He assaulted me!"

"How the hell did he do that, Cyn?"

Cynthia didn't care for the look of confusion in her uncle's eyes.  "He struck me!"

"Why'd he do that?" George asked suspiciously, glancing at Matt Donnelly.

When Cynthia bit her lower lip, Matt chuckled, and offered an explanation of his own.  "I turned her over my knee and gave her a much needed spanking because she whacked me across the face with a fly swatter."

George blinked, and then looked down at his niece.  "That true, Cyn?  Did you hit Matt first?"

"He certainly deserved it!" she defended her actions.

George shook his head disapprovingly, and then said softly, "You go wait by the wagon, Cyn."

Cynthia flashed Matthew a triumphant look, turned up her nose and marched out of the store, confident her uncle would set the errant cowboy straight.  In fact, she hoped Uncle George would give him a black eye!  The spanking was still stinging, in spite of the several layers of clothing separating her bottom from that horrible man's hand!

********************

“…She just isn't adapting to life out here," George finished, a sad, frustrated look on his rugged face.  "And Bill and I can't seem to agree on the best way to handle her.  He says she needs time and patience, and I've been doing my best, but damn it, I have limits!"

"What does Flora think?" Luke asked curiously.

"She agrees with Bill," George admitted.  "And since they've got kids and I don't, I guess they should know."

"She needs her butt whipped, George, and you know it," Matt didn't mince words.  “She’s taking her rotten temper out on everyone because she knows she can get away with it.  You ought to stop the wagon on the way home and cut a switch and use it.”

George grinned in agreement, and then winked.  "You just may be right, Matt."  He was going to give the girl a talking to, and if she got sassy with him, he was going to give her something to think about.