Becky was fuming, who the hell did he think he was? She thought as she watched the crowd outside the saloon who normally gave her all the attention clapping Brad Coleman on the back; all because the dumb cowboy had pulled a kid out of a well.

At that moment the dumb cowboy was grinning nervously and fighting his way through the crowd. He hated being made a fuss of, especially when any fool with a horse and a rope could have done what he did. What was the stupid kid doing down the well in the first place? Some people were too dumb to have kids in the first place.

“Hey I reckon ol’ Brad is real western hero,” some old drunk was saying as he patted Brad on the back.

Brad grimaced in an approximation of acceptance and tried to squeeze past. As he did so he caught a glimpse of Becky Harwell glowering at him from the other side of the street. At that moment the sun had touched her red curls as if to set them alight and judging from the killing look she was giving him, he wondered if he might burn right up too.

Becky Harwell was more than just the town beauty; she was the best looking girl in the county if not the entire state of Arizona. For a moment he drank in her wasp waist, emphasised as it was by her tailored blue dress; a crisp deep blue that matched her eyes. It sent a tingle down his spine just to think that she had noticed him for once.

For her part Becky realised he had seen her watching and turned away. How dare he even think she cared? Not that he wasn’t handsome in his own way. For one thing, he didn’t hang around the saloon as much as the other cowhands and workaday trash. And unlike some of the others he managed a bath more than once a week. However, he was no true gentleman. Just to make sure she stole a backward glance before sashaying off with her nose in the air. She would show him. She would show all of them.

Just as she reached the corner she noticed Brad’s horse sniffing around a patch of grass behind the rooming house. It took her a moment to realise what was wrong with the picture. The horse was untethered and roaming free.

“Barney, hey Barney,” someone was calling. It was the Folsom boy. He generally took care of people’s horses and saw them to the livery.

Barney she guessed was Brad’s horse’s name and the creature was undoubtedly in young Folsom’s charge and had got away.

The boy was at the end of the side street and without glancing in Becky and the horse’s direction had gone the other way. It was at this moment that an evil notion came to Becky. Serves Brad right if the horse were to wander off, she thought.

“Hey Barney, shoo,” she encouraged.

The horse didn’t look up.

“Scat,” Becky hissed slapping its rump, “get.”

The horse grumbled back and half turned before ignoring her.

Becky looked around and seeing no one, decided that more decisive measures were needed. So hitching up her skirts she scurried over to the horse and clambered on.

She was a fair rider so it easy enough even with her skirts to kick Barney into life and along the back lane to the edge of town.

*

Jim Folsom hadn’t been too keen on telling Brad he had lost Barney; an assumed reluctance borne out by the cowboy’s reaction. Only when Mr Folsom senior brought news that the horse had last been seen with Becky Harwell on the edge of town and that the he would lend him a horse to go after her was Brad even slightly placated.

“Shall I get the sheriff?” Folsom senior asked. He looked stricken. Losing horses was not good for his business reputation and involving the law was the best way to ensure that just everyone in town would get to hear about the incident.

“I think I can handle one redhead all by my lonesome,” Brad growled. All by my lonesome, he berated himself, who even talks like that?

Folsom mopped his brow and looked relieved.

In the end it had taken Brad well over an hour to pick up Becky’s trail and the direction of her travel made no sense. What had possessed the girl to take the animal in the first place? He wondered what would happen if he didn’t find her before word reached the sheriff. Would the law see this for the undoubted prank that it was or would…? Brad didn’t follow that line of thought as it he suspected it might lead to ropes and hanging trees.

The one encouraging thing was that the trail was too easy to miss. It was almost as if Becky wanted him to follow her. Still, when he chanced upon the creek he was still taken by surprise. Not least by the sight of a naked Becky bathing there.

Becky had heard Brad’s horse but had foolishly decided it was Barney just making a fuss about being parted from his master and paid it no mind. The day was hot and the water was cool. Where was the harm in dallying by the pool for a while? She would return the horse soon enough.

She hadn’t intended to take the joke so far, but Barney had gotten away from her a little and by the time she had reined him in, she was out in open country far from the easy road back. She had planned on taking a wide sweep of the town and letting Brad’s horse fend for himself somewhere, but that had been before she had chanced upon the pool.

Brad’s heart had stopped in his throat and his anger had all but evaporated with the sweat on the back of his neck. He had often dreamed of Becky this way, but had never believed he would get so close a look. He considered turning his back and calling out, but why should he? She had put him here, why not set awhile and see how this played out?

Looking around he picked out a spot under a tree and hunkered down to watch Becky bathe.

Becky was lost in her own little world and after a while she began to sing.

“Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine…” The words were sweet in her mouth and she knew it. A giggle escaped her and she felt quite pleased with herself.

“You are lost and gone forever, oh my darling Clementine,” Brad joined in. His light baritone somewhat courser that Becky’s smooth efforts, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What the…” Becky gave a start and scrambled for the bank. “Who’s there?”

Brad waited until Becky had gained her shift, not that it hid much as it clung wet and transparent to her damp thighs, and then he stood up.

“I think you have my horse ma’am,” he rumbled.

“Bradley Coleman, how dare you…?”

Brad cut her off. “No one but my Ma calls me Bradley and how dare I, you ask. How dare I?”

He let his anger show now and she took half a step back.

“Brad I… I was… only…” She blushed. Caught red-handed her joke suddenly didn’t seem that funny.

“Sheriff, have you and the posse seen enough?” Brad called out to an imagined group behind him.

“Hey what?” Becky exclaimed and suddenly bent double in a forlorn hope of covering herself. “How dare you bring…”

“How dare I what?” Brad was incredulous. “If’en I had brought a posse, you would have had a lot more to worry about than your modesty.”

“Oh you,” Becky raged flying at Brad with clawed hands.

Brad caught her easily and turned her about. “Why you hellcat,” he snapped.

“Let go of me, let go of me this instant.”

“You ain’t giving no orders here,” Brad said quietly. “I think it is about time someone taught you a lesson.”

“You wouldn’t dare…” Becky screeched as Brad sat on a rock and hauled the struggling woman over his lap.

It didn’t take much to bare her firm white bottom given her attire and by her sudden frantic wails he could tell she knew just what he was looking at.

The first swat stung her hard just where she sat and she yelped. For a moment she couldn’t decide whether to curse him, keep up the struggle or pull her face free of her wild tumbled red curls. A string of coarse language won out, but Brad could hardly hear her for the cascade of hair that covered her face.

In any case, one swat was just the beginning. He quickly followed up with a sharp volley that lasted for several long minutes until her bottom was a good match for her hair.

“Please stop it, please,” Becky wailed.

“You gonna take a man’s horse again?” Brad said bitterly, not easing her spanking one jot.

“No never, I’m sorry,” Becky wept.

“I’ve a good mind to give you a few licks of my belt,” Brad continued enjoying her surrender.

“Noo please, I’ll be good,” Becky said frantically.

Brad ignored her for a moment and enjoyed the resistance of her bottom against his heavy hand and the vivid stain that grew as testament to his prowess.

“Oh please,” Becky hissed as the sting began to overwhelm her. By now her breathing had become ragged and the prospect of Brad’s belt humbled her in the extreme.

“Okay, I guess I could let you up,” he grinned, “But only on one condition.”

“Oh please,” Becky said kicking her legs and struggling to gain her feet.

“That you step out with me come Saturday at the shindig.”

“What,” Becky shrieked, “If you think for one minute…”

The spanking began again at once, this time in earnest and Becky’s wails quickly gave way to something like sobs. “Alright, you beast, alright.”

Brad reluctantly set Becky on her feet as she scrambled away to cover her red tail.

“I guess I had better see you back to town,” Brad chuckled, “Although I’ll be betting you might prefer to walk.”

“Oh you,” Becky spluttered as she dashed behind a shrub with her clothes.

*

As Brad had predicted, it was a long difficult ride for Becky all the way back to town and by the time they reached it, she didn’t know which she hated more, Brad or his horse.

The sheriff and Folsom were there to meet them and Becky saw the irons in the lawman’s hands. Maybe stealing a horse hadn’t been such a smart move.

“You caught her then,” Folsom said with a smile.

“I was able to rescue Miss Harwell yes,” Brad said before Becky could speak. “It seems she found my horse on the loose and attempted to recover him. But the darn thing ran off with her before she could stop it.”

Becky gaped at Brad and then with a little too much obvious relief and genuine gratitude she said, “That’s right. Brad Coleman is my hero.”

“Well I’ll be,” the sheriff whooped, “A life save twice in one day. What we have here is a genuine wild west hero.”

Folsom looked doubtful and eyed Becky suspiciously.

Brad rolled his eyes up and muttered something under his breath.

But Becky reached out and took Brad’s arm and said enthusiastically, “He certainly is and that’s why I am allowing Brad Coleman to escort me to the dance on Saturday.”

Brad looked up in surprise, having expected Becky to renege on their deal, but Becky was grinning and only he noticed the awkward way she shifted in the saddle and how quickly she wanted to be parted from it.

Ends.