Chapter 1
From the head of the Chilkoot Trail to the base of the Golden Staircase is approximately sixteen miles of pathways no wider than an inch or two across. Experienced hikers daring enough to go up the Staircase could walk it in a day, carrying only a backpack with their lunch and water bottles. The old stampeder tent cities had been converted into campgrounds for the late starters and slow movers. For the Sam McGee Tour group, they would be the stopping points along the trail as they carried their 1890s possessions from camp to camp.
All three thousand pounds worth of gear, food, and personal possessions. Over craggy boulders and steep drop-offs. Across rivulets. A system of ropes and pulleys were needed every few feet. Setting those systems up took hours. Taking them down, even longer.
In early August, four women, five men, and two Inuit packers started up the Chilkoot Trail with only a portion of their supplies. Each person carried about fifty pounds on their backs. It would take the men several days to go back and forth, collecting the rest before they moved on to the next campsite.
Andria, Van, and Tyson were the last to set foot on the trail as the warm, late-summer sun reached its zenith and the mosquitoes buzzed through the air in thick swarms. With Tyson in the lead and Andria taking up the rear, they moved much more slowly than the rest of the group as she foraged for food. Whenever she stopped to pick something or look more closely at a plant, her pretend husbands stopped as well and waited. She cupped her skirt to carry her findings, mostly dandelion greens and blackberries, and tried to see what foliage disappeared as they climbed. She didn't notice anything as they made it to their first camp about the time the sun was going down, but Finnegan's Point wasn't far.
The Taiya River bubbled and babbled happily alongside the trail. The wind blowing over the running water was pleasantly cool in the muggy heat. A mosquito the size of Andria's head buzzed by, giving her a cocky wave with one spindly leg.
She blinked, shook her head, and turned to find the insect.
"You okay?" Tyson asked.
Glancing at her pretend husband, she nodded with a smile. "Heat is getting to me. I'm born and bred to the Sammamish Plateau. The hottest it ever got was eighty-six degrees. Maybe ninety. This is nuts."
"You still think we need body warmth?" Olivia asked snidely, leaning against a tree near the campground entrance.
Andria turned her entire body to face the dark haired beauty. She said nothing, only gazed into Olivia's sapphire eyes with the certainty born from hundreds of camping trips. It never mattered where a person was, or how hot the day, by night it got cold. She let that knowledge give her strength as she stared Olivia down.
Eventually, the Welshwoman shook out her luxurious hair, turning her back on Andria as she walked away.
Van and Tyson came up on either side of her, watching Olivia.
"Ignore her as best as you can," Van said.
"Better yet, stay away from her as much as possible," Tyson added.
"That will be hard to do," she said. "Campgrounds just aren't that big."
And Finnegan's Point wasn't any different for all that it wasn't much of a campground. There was a simple shack that housed some of the Gold Rush artifacts that hikers had found along the trail over the years, which looked like nothing more that pieces of rusted metal to Andria. There were three campsites right next to the trail and a thin path that led back to a roped off area marked with the Sam McGee logo. Trees and brush encased it. Once Andria slipped under the rope and turned around, she couldn't see the trail.
It was there that, rejoining the group, Andria found everyone had their tents up and Rondale was trying to get a fire going. Grecia and Brian were still bubbling excitedly as they arranged their blankets and belongings. Matt was chatting amiably with the Inuit, who had their tents up, their fire lit, their coffee perked, and a dinner sizzling on sticks. Celia was directing Olivia on how to make a cook fire dinner.
Andria set down her load of the gear with a happy groan. She sucked in a breath, smelling smoke and evergreens. Van and Tyson had taken over the setting up of their tent, shooing her away from the "men's work," so she went to kneel next to Rondale.
Pent up joy had her smiling as she watched him suffocate sparks. She cleaned her dandelion greens and blackberries, leaving them to soak before inching up to the Georgian. He growled in frustration at the flint and steel, as he scraped his knuckles bloody with only smoke as his reward.
"Ah need a lighter," he snapped and sat back.
"You're doing fine," she said.
"How did cavemen do it?" he snarled as he examined his injured hand.
Andria shifted on her knees, removed most of the kindling he had placed, and leaned over to blow lovingly at the smoking bit of tinder. Smoke burned at her eyes, but she simply blinked it away, continuing to blow. The tiny embers sparked to life and happily began to burn. She smiled, carefully feeding it until it was a nice crackling fire.
"Ya did it."
She shot him her brightest smile. "You got it started; you've got the scars to prove it. I only blew on it."
He grinned and puffed out his chest. "These ain't nothin'. Ah got worse from a gator love bite. Ya want to see?"
"Here now," Tyson plopped down and wagged his finger. "No wife stealing."
She giggled as Rondale turned beet red.
"Ah wasn't stealin'--"
"Relax, Ron, I'm only teasing." Tyson grabbed Andria around her waist and pulled her over his lap, so she was lying face down. She shifted into a more comfortable position over his thighs and grinned into the dirt.
"You know, I've missed this," she said.
"Being spanked?" Grecia asked as she came to sit next to the fire.
"No, camping. I haven't been in a while."
Tyson hummed as he put his hand up her skirt and ran his fingers over her bottom. "I have, too. It's not the same when you go alone. You gotta go in a group."
She nodded. "Or go to a camp site. Though, the ones with amenities are too much like hotelling."
"Or RVing. You're not experiencing the great outdoors when you can watch TV." Tyson slapped her bottom (Andria yelped and threw him a dirty look) before he withdrew his hand. "There's no lasting damage from the strapping this morning. You up for something more?"
"You're asking her?" Olivia asked incredulously.
"Until she's used to it, yes. This is all still new to her. I don't want to ruin her first experiences by over-doing it." Tyson patted Andria's bottom as he spoke, lightly warming her up until she was gasping. He might think she was good, but she could still feel where the belt had crisscrossed over her backside. After all, Van had spanked her on the train, too.
"Just a little before-dinner pat," he cajoled.
"Okay." She nodded with a sigh and smiled at him over her shoulder before settling in for a nice, light spanking. He'd probably just slap his palm over the top of her skirts. She was sure she could handle that without embarrassing herself. He might even use his belt. That hadn't been so bad. He did say a little pat.
"Van, pass me the hairbrush."
Her head snapped up and she tried to wiggle around to look at him. "The hairbrush? Not your belt?"
"You almost sound disappointed," he said with a grin as Van slapped the brush into Tyson's hand. "No belt this time. That's more an after dinner thing."
Glancing at the ivory inlay of the wooden brush, she chewed on her lip "But that's my brush. For my hair." She felt she needed to remind him of that.
Tyson pushed her back down. "Don't worry. Van will still be able to brush your hair with it when I'm done."
She stared at the ground, attempting to memorize how each pine needle lay as she waited, more to distract herself. It seemed an eternity before the first crack broke the silence. It sounded like a gunshot and she jumped with a shout. She was more startled than hurt. It took several seconds for her to register that what pain she did feel was more from waking up the effects of previous spankings.
And then it seemed he rained the swats down on her. They were almost love taps as he struck first one buttock and then the other, but they sounded so loud to her ears that she jumped with every one. She matched each smack with a squeaky gasp and a small wiggle. Her entire body felt like it was coming alive. Heat that started low in her belly and seeped outwards to her nethers bloomed. Her heart tripped over itself in both trepidation and excitement.
The brush changed tempo and stinging ants swarmed over her bottom. She wiggled more as her breathing came in heavier. For all that it hurt, it also felt so good.
"Careful, Tyson," Van snapped. "You'll catch her skirts on fire."
"Hold on." Tyson tucked her skirts around her legs, effectively trapping them in tightly wound cotton. "That's better."
"Speak for yourself," she muttered, not resenting the restraint as much as she made it sound. It only added to the experience. It was getting harder to keep her breathing even.
He patted her hip sympathetically with his hand.
She buried her head into her arms with a moan just before the brush came down again. Her heels came up to feebly protect her offended bottom as a soft mewl of pleasure passed her lips.
"Now, now, none of that. Keep your legs down and I'll give you a surprise," Tyson murmured and straightened out her legs.
Nodding, Andria told herself she wouldn't budge, but then the brush landed upon her sitspot and her heels came shooting back up as she threw back her head on a strangled cry. As her shout ebbed away, it suddenly came to her: the spanking was almost like making out. It had started slow and easy, like teasing kisses. It had worked up to the more frenzied caresses. Now he was ripping the preverbal clothes from her body.
He tapped her ankles with the brush until she lowered them and then smacked her sitspot again.
"Aaah!" She kicked her feet into the dirt and bucked, flinching away from the hard swats before lifting her bottom up for the next blow. The spanks blurred together as her mind focused only on the heat. It covered her, it surrounded her. She was infused with it.
Then he was back to the little, love taps on her bottom. He slowly brought her back to her surroundings. She saw the pine needles again, surprised they hadn't caught fire under the heat of that spanking.
"Okay. All done." Tyson spread his knees and let her drop, panting, between them. He lifted her up and held her tight.
She bounced on her knees, as much to rub herself against him as it was to uselessly to try to ease her stinging seat. She pressed herself into his chest as she reached back with one hand to cup her bottom.
He lowered his voice and whispered into her ear, "Keep that up and I'm going to have a hard time getting up."
Andria froze, becoming aware of a hard lump pressed against her belly, but the sting of her bottom made it hard to stay still. Her clothes scratched like steel wool and she clutched at his overalls. Tyson reached around her to very carefully pull her skirts up to her thighs and away from her bottom. Memory of when she'd last been held like this by Tyson flittered across her mind.
Slowly, a grin spread across her lips and she began to giggle, then laugh, and then she was howling into Tyson's period shirt.
He leaned back, raising an eyebrow at her, looking very much like Van. "What?"
"I'm--" She paused as her sides began to cramp. "Oh my God! I'm having an animated moment."
Tyson gaped at her and then grinned before he also started laughing. "Can you see--"
"Flippers!" They howled together. The two held onto each other, screaming with laughter.
"My flipper upon your ass-ss," they sang before falling into gales of laughter again.
"I don't even want to know," Van said as he sat down cross-legged on the ground. "Give me my wife, Ty."
Andria gave Tyson a light kiss before she went eagerly to Van and he settled her on his lap. He lifted her skirts up from under her so her bottom touched only air as she sat in the hollow between his thighs. Despite his consideration, she still wiggled uncomfortably. He swept her clothes around them so she was still modestly covered before he slid his arms around her waist.
"So, what's my surprise?" she asked.
Tyson grinned. "You couldn't keep your legs down."
"Aw, c'mon," Grecia said. "You can't expect a girl to stay still for a brush spanking after giving her a strapping earlier."
"Don't forget the hand spanking Van gave her on the train," Brian added.
Andria jerked and her cheeks felt hot as she looked at him.
He gave her a small apologetic smile. "I was looking for a bathroom and saw Van pull you into a sleeper cabin. I heard you guys all the way on the other side of the car."
Her face felt like it was on fire and she put her head in her hands as she groaned. "And then the priest walked in on us."
Brian and Grecia laughed. Rondale grinned.
"It's all right, dear," Celia said. "You're among the like-minded. We've all had something similar happen to us."
"Oh yeah. The stories I could tell you," Grecia said.
"Do tell," Brian leered and leaned over to chew loudly on her neck. She shrieked with giggles before they tumbled away from the fire to play wrestle.
Tyson frowned at her, guilt written into every line of his face. "I'm sorry, Andy. I didn't know Van had spanked you today. I would've given you some more time before taking the brush to you. My only excuse is that I was thinking about using it the entire train ride and hike up here. I got impatient. I'm sorry."
"It's okay." Andria felt her cheeks cool as she reached over to take Tyson's hand. "It didn't hurt that much."
The guilt was replaced with mock pain as he put a hand over his heart. "Didn't hurt? Oh, say it isn't so. I will have to take up with a dominatrix and relearn the craft. Believe me when I say, it will be torture for me."
She laughed.
"Sounds as if you have done that already," Matt said.
"Got a job as an assistant to a professional dominatrix while I was in college. She gave me room and board, as well as a paycheck." Tyson smiled, his eyes going distant. "Learned more from her than I ever did in the classroom." He shook his head, returning to the present with a laugh. "But it's not something I'd care to repeat."
Putting more wood onto the fire, Olivia gave Andria a slight smile, the first inkling of real friendliness the beautiful woman had offered anyone. "How are you feeling? That wasn't an easy spanking you just had, and on top of two others today."
Andria wiggled on Van's lap, feeling the sting, but shrugged. "Kinda feels like something between a sunburn and a bruise."
Van gripped Andria's hips in his hands to push her up onto her knees. He leaned back as he held up the back of her skirts. "Your bottom is a nice shade of cherry with eggplant polka dots."
"What?!" She twisted around to try to look at her own bottom.
Tyson whistled when he leaned over to look at her backside. "Yeah. Note to husbands, take it easy on the bride until the bruises fade a bit."
Reaching back, Andria felt the heat and gooseflesh of a recently spanked bottom along with a few thick lines from the strapping. She wished she'd brought a mirror so she could see it for herself as Van pulled her back down onto his lap. Her bottom only throbbed, the sting had disappeared and she continued to wiggle around on his thighs to cause fresh flares of heat.
She liked how it felt.
* * *
Andria made up her salad as Olivia put a pot of beans on the frying bacon. Her hands moved by rote as she looked at the amount of food being fixed. Her mind buzzed quickly as she did the math. She counted up the days the Sam McGee Company had estimated it would take to get to Dawson, where they could re-supply before panning for gold. Her eyes slowly slid towards the food supplies before going back to the pot.
It was the first day on the trail, she reminded herself. Olivia was just learning. A day or two of a little extra food wouldn't hurt, but if it continued for much longer than that, they would run out of food before they even reached Dawson.
She returned her attention back to the salad as she thought of the extra food stuffs she and Tyson had bought. Her gut told her to leave it in the tent and not let anyone else know about it. She didn't want the cache to be relied too heavily upon.
As the beans began to boil, Celia passed out tin plates for everyone. Andria offered salad to everyone, but only her husbands took some. Her plate had less on it than anyone else.
Tyson pushed the blackberries away before taking a big bite of dandelion leaves. He scrunched up his face, but swallowed.
Andria laughed, not feeling the least bit hurt. "They're nasty, aren't they?"
"Just a little," he said, smacking his lips in a way to get rid of the taste in his mouth.
"Try it with the berries," Van said, eating a forkful of greens.
"You don't mind dandelion leaves?" she asked.
"Ty was too young to remember, but there was a time when dandelion greens were all we could afford to eat." Van took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "I gotta admit, you make it better than Mom. I didn't think anyone else could make it edible."
Andria flushed, pleased at the comment. "Did she boil them first?"
He cocked his head to one side as he thought back. "No," he said after a moment. "She gave them to us raw as you have here."
She turned to face him, almost happy to talk wilderness survival with another person. "The trick is in the washing. Soak them, then wash them again and again in fresh water. We don't have a lot of water and we didn't have an extra pot or I would have boiled them. I did the best I could in just rinsing them really good. Another trick is in what you put on top of the greens. Bacon and berries are really good for that. The fat helps coat the leaves and the sweetness of the berries gives a contrast to the bitterness that brings out the sweetness even more."
Van nodded, taking another bite. "I suppose you also know how to make dandelion wine and make it taste good."
She beamed at him. "Yes, I do! Dandelion flowers are just as good as the greens, unfortunately it's too late in the year or I would have put some on the salad."
Tyson rolled the bacon, beans, berries, and leaves together into a mush on his plate before taking an experimental bite. His eyes flashed wide in surprise. "Mm, this is good!" He shoveled a couple of bites into his mouth.
"It's also very nutritious, which will be a bonus on this hike. It's a good source of fiber, Vitamin A, C, E, K, B6--"
"Hey," Tyson laughed. "Didn't anyone ever tell that food that tastes good shouldn't be good for you?"
Pointing her fork at him, Andria gave him a stern frown. "By the end of this trip, my friend, you will learn that food that is good for you can also taste good. I make great camp fire food and all of it will be nutritiously sound."
She finished off the rest of the salad, laughing as Tyson kept trying to steal bites of food from her plate. When everyone was finished, she gathered together the dishes and used her dandelion rinse water to wash them clean.
Slowly, couples faded away to their tents. Matt guided Celia away like a prince leading the love of his life into a bright future. Brian and Grecia went to their tent hand in hand, smiling the shy, innocent smiles of new love. Olivia swept into her tent, leaving Rondale at the fire, glancing her way in trepidation.
Andria stayed neared the fire, waiting to bank it.
"Go on, Ron," Tyson said gently. "The longer you wait, the harder it will get."
The Georgian sighed and nodded before slinking away to find an uncomfortable night of sleeplessness.
"That goes the same for you," Van said to her.
"The fire--"
"We'll take care of it," he told her. "Go on. We won't be able to give you much privacy on this trip. Take what little you can get."
"Oh." She blushed, realizing he was trying to be chivalrous. She gave the brothers a smile as she crept away to use the bushes before she disappeared into their tent. Quickly, she jerked her clothes off. The cold night air sent a shiver through her body. She reached for the leather satchel that had the bought foodstuff and her smuggled modern conveniences. She put on the thermal long johns, wincing as the cotton scraped over her much-spanked bottom, before she put her period clothes back on.
She was just finishing buttoning up her blouse again when the tent flaps parted.
"You decent?" Tyson asked.
"Sometimes," she told him, smiling over her shoulder at him.
"Do you need more time?" Van asked.
"I need a flashlight. Where did you put the hairbrush, Ty?"
Van picked it up from the corner of the tent and crawled inside. He guided her back as his hands gently picked pieces of twigs and leaves from her hair. She closed her eyes, relaxing as he undid her braid in the dark and smoothed out her long tresses.
She listened to the sounds of the night, getting sleepy to the music of crickets and a soft wind in the trees. The rustle of Tyson setting up a bed and the feel of the brush's bristles in her hair only added to the calm.
Van braided her hair again. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders before she felt the soft brush of his lips on her neck. She smiled as she lay down, rolling underneath a blanket. At ease, she curled on her side and closed her eyes. She listened to Van take off his clothes. There was no leap in her pulse to think of him naked, no uneasiness, either. It felt natural to roll into his arms when he lay down.
Snuggled against Van and with Tyson at her back, Andria felt more at home in the canvas tent at that moment than she had in years of sleeping in own bed.
* * *
"Who else got a rotten night's sleep?"
Andria smiled as a round of groans followed Brian's question. "After a few more nights, you'll become accustomed to it."
"Until then, we're going to feel every rock and root a mile under us," Matt said as he cracked his neck.
"I've always wanted to play the princess and the pea," Celia said, her eyes distant and her voice soft with unfilled dreams as a smile played at her lips.
Tyson lifted his head from his coffee cup, his green eyes sparkling as a slow smile came to his lips. He glanced at Andria. She frowned at him in confusion until he lovingly took her hand, saying, "Lady, my mother won't give me up. I need a princess. Do her test, I beg you." He pulled her hard against his chest, tossing his cup aside, gazing deeply into her eyes. "My fool says you cannot fail."
Forcing down a smile, she quickly recalled the fable and fell into her role. "Prince, your mother is a witch of a woman. How can I possibly succeed? She'll think up some devilish scheme to keep us apart."
Tyson turned slightly, pointing at Van. "Fool! Tell her your plan."
Van raised an eyebrow at them.
Andria couldn't keep from laughing any longer. "We're having an animated moment."
"So, now what?" Tyson asked as he released her and picked up his coffee cup again. He frowned at the wet dirt and pine needles that coated it.
"We go back to Dyea and pick up another load of supplies." Van stretched as he got to his feet before holding out his hand to Andria and assisting her up. "Is there something we've left behind that you suddenly find a need for?"
Biting her lip, she thought about it. "My common sense?"
Tyson laughed. "Honey, we didn't leave that behind, we lost it."
She giggled and Van kissed her lightly upon her forehead before the brothers headed back down the trail. Brian leapt on Grecia, making loud smacking noises over her neck, which had her shrieking and giggling before he bounded away.
Matt rolled his eyes. "Youth," he said.
"Shall we show them how it's done properly, my dear?" Celia stepped gracefully into his arms and he swung her around into a perfect dip. Their lips met and locked. Andria and Grecia laughed as the minutes ticked on. Rondale quietly left to walk down the trail before Matt stood, righting Celia, and walked, dignified, away.
"And that's how it's done," Celia said, dreamily.
Olivia stomped back to the tent she was forced to share with Rondale.
Andria frowned. "I suppose it was rude to publicly display how well we're getting along with our partners when they aren't."
Grecia rolled a shoulder in a shrug as she started to pick up around camp. "Ignore her. She's just a bitch."
"Grecia!" Andria shot a look back to the tent, but there was no movement or sound from inside to suggest Olivia had heard.
"What?" She followed Andria's gaze and snorted. "Please. You should have heard the things she was saying about you last night."
"That's enough, Grecia," Celia said sharply.
Andria slowly fell onto a sitting rock, feeling more hurt than she knew she should. It was nothing, just gossip. Olivia had taken an instant hatred to her, but talk wouldn't, or at least it shouldn't, hurt her. The best thing to do was what she had done at school: Lift her chin and ignore the whispers.
So, she stood, grabbed her cowbell and slingshot, and headed for the bushes.
"Where are you going?" Celia asked.
"Foraging."
* * *
Andria's step was light on her way back to camp with a precious bundle of berries, nuts, and wild roots held in a bowl made from her skirts. It was a good day and she hadn't realized how much she had missed trips like these. Being out in the wilderness ringing her cowbell and humming a merry tune reminded her of some of the camping expeditions she'd gone on with her father. She remembered how he'd kneel down beside her in the grass or mud, pointing at tracks, plants, rocks, anything of interest that she would need to know if she was going to survive in the woods.
Singing 'Oh What A Beautiful Morning', Andria left the bushes behind and walked into camp.
Rondale looked up from his coffee. "Where've ya been?"
"Foraging," she said, holding up her skirt basket.
"Alone?"
Something in his voice caught her attention and she slowly lowered her skirts so the food tumbled gently into an empty pot. "Uh, yes?"
Rondale frowned at her, which looked forced and unnatural on him. "Do ya know how dangerous it is out there?"
Andria glanced around at the other women. Grecia was trying very hard not to look at them as she folded up blankets in her tent. Celia was watching Rondale, confusion etched into her aged face as she helped prepare dinner. Olivia was openly smirking, not even bothering to hide her enjoyment with work.
"I obeyed all the safety rules," she finally told him.
"That's not good enough." He set down his mug as he stood and approached her. "Ah think ya need to be taught a lesson."
Someone gasped and Andria couldn't be sure it wasn't her as her jaw dropped. Not only had he sounded incredibly clichéd, but almost like he was reading a line in a bad porno movie. And he was unbelievably out of character.
Before she could respond, he had lifted his booted foot up onto a cold cook fire stone and pulled her down over his bended knee.
"Wait a minute," she said as he lifted her skirts and petticoats. Cool air blew through the breather holes of her thermal long-johns and she started fighting. "You can't do this!"
"Looks like ya smuggled in some modern clothes. That's also going to cost ya." His palm slapped against her hindquarter and she instantly stilled. It hadn't hurt. In fact, she hardly felt it. He really did have a weak arm, but she couldn't believe he was doing this.
"Rondale, she's not your wife," Celia said gently. "Do you really think you should be spanking her?"
"Do you think her 'husbands' will with how infatuated they are?" Olivia said with a toss of her black hair. "He's doing the right thing."
She'd spoken so gently, so encouragingly, Andria couldn't believe it was the same woman talking. The only thing that kept her from shouting 'No!' at the top of her lungs was that she was an employee of the Sam McGee Adventure Tours Company and this is what she was hired for. It still stung her pride. She hadn't done anything wrong and, as his hand continued to spank her bottom, it began to rankle.
"Maybe this will teach ya to follow the rules." He laid several more swats to her backside before letting her up. "Now, Ah want yer promise ya'll never go out alone again and take off those long-johns."
"Go to Hell," she replied, unable to keep back the angry retort as she straightened her skirts.
Rondale stood where he was, his leg still raised, as he visibly floundered. A bad actor unsure of what to do after a co-star flubbed her lines and there was no director to keep things going. As she started cleaning and preparing her foraged food for eating, he lowered his leg and went back to his coffee.
All she could think about was how she hadn't deserved the spanking. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to cry. The more she wanted to cry, the harder it was to hold back the tears. The harder it became, the more she cried. The more she cried, the more she thought about how she hadn't deserved it. It was a horrible cycle that had her feeling sick to her stomach.
That was the sight that Van and Tyson met when they came around the trees into the roped off camp area. Andria was bent over a pot, silently crying into a salad of foraged greens and berries. They dropped their packs where they were and rushed to her side.
"Andy!" Tyson reached her first, pulling her into her arms. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"R-ro-ron," was all she could get out between her sobs.
Van thundered to his feet. "You son of a bitch!"
"Oh no." Tyson let go of Andria and jumped to his feet. "Van, no!"
Andria wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up. Van had lifted Rondale several feet up off the ground by his shirt, a fist raised to punch him, kept back only by Tyson's hold on him. She rushed forward, squeezing between Van and Ron. "He spanked me. He just sp-spanked me."
"Let him go, Van," Tyson said. "He didn't hurt her. Let him go."
Slowly, Van released the Georgian, who stumbled back as soon as he was free. "Keep your hands to your own bride and leave mine alone," he growled softly, his green eyes hard as stone.
She put her hands on his chest and felt the muscles jump, but eventually relax under her touch.
Tyson eased his hold on his older brother.
"Are you okay?" she breathed.
Van lowered his eyes to her. "I should be asking you that."
"I'm fine." She shook her head. "I was just upset. I don't feel I deserved it."
"What did you do?" Tyson asked as he gently guided his brother back to their tent and her salad, away from the Georgian.
"I went out foraging."
"Alone?" Tyson asked, surprised.
"I did nothing wrong," she snapped. "I was always in hearing distance of the camp; I was only out during daylight hours. I sang, danced, rang my cow bell--"
"That's true. We heard her," Grecia broke in.
Van glanced at the green-haired pixie, his hands fisted at his side. "I'll be right back," he said and then disappeared into the bushes.
"What was that all about?" Brian and Matt came up. The college student's eyes were wide.
Tyson collected the fallen packs, putting them where they belonged, before he sat next to Andria. For a moment, she didn't think he would answer when he sucked in a quiet breath. "Our father wasn't a nice man and Van couldn't always stop him from hurting us. He over-reacted, Ron, and I'm sorry for that, but you never should've spanked Andria. You have your own bride."
Brian looked disappointed at Rondale. "Oh, not cool, man."
Ron lowered his head, not looking at anyone.
"After his upbringing, he spanks people. How safe is that?" Olivia asked, but there was a thread of excitement in her voice and an unnatural gleam in her gaze as she looked off where Van had disappeared.
Tyson turned his green eyes on her and Andria shivered at the expression he wore; one that Van wore whenever his thoughts delved into whatever darkness there was in his mind. "I've been beaten and I've beaten. I've been spanked and I've spanked. There is a world of difference between the two. Van is no more dangerous than the rest of us."
She started to rise, but Tyson grabbed her wrist. He shook his head at her, his green eyes dark and hard, making her shiver again. "I learned to give him his space when he needed it. He needs it right now."
Very slowly, she dropped back down. She pulled her foraged goods towards her, blindly fixing food for their dinner. She kept glancing off into the treeline where Van had disappeared. Olivia had finished cooking, again, too much in Andria's opinion, when Van returned to the campground. He took his tin plate in silence, sitting between Andria and Tyson.
He didn't speak throughout dinner, despite Andria's attempts to pull him into the conversation.
Tyson tried to make up for it with humor, keeping most everyone laughing until they disappeared to their tents. When it was only the three of them left at the fire, Tyson also fell quiet.
"Is Ron all right?" Van asked after a moment.
"He's fine. The guy just has a death wish. Not surprising, considering his occupation."
Andria lightly placed her hand on his knee. "Are you all right?"
He looked at her, looking surprised. "Of course."
Shaking her head, she gestured at the air. "Of course? You were gone for hours, Van."
"That's what makes him all right," Tyson said quietly. "Consider it a compliment. It means he likes you. If he didn't care, he wouldn't have left at all."
Van held out his hand, an offer for her to curl up against his side. She couldn't resist the temptation for the comfort found in his arms. She scooted close and leaned into him. He wrapped his arm around her as she laid her cheek on his shoulder. He kissed her brow.
"I'll be all right," he whispered into her hair.
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