Summary: Saucy Sally has a birthday wish that will take a fortune to fulfill. How does she solve this problem? By picking some pockets of course! Written in answer to the 2025 Brandaversary R-Rated Story challenge. Many millions of thanks to Pat D in PA for beta-reading and encouragement along the way!

Rating: MA/R (language, sexual situations & descriptions)

Word Count: 13,039

Saucy Sally Picks a Pocket

A warm fire, his pipe, and a cup of coffee enjoyed in his red leather chair were the best things this side of heaven. At least they were tonight in Ben Cartwright’s eyes as he relaxed with his two older sons after a long day’s work and a hearty meal. He smiled as Adam lazily strummed his guitar while Hoss tried to talk him round to a game of checkers. Joe was out for the evening with a young lady and Ben was warily keeping an eye on the time. He hoped his youngest would return the girl to her family at a respectable hour and it was early yet. Still, Joseph had a way of finding trouble wherever he went lately. Early evening or not, Ben still worried the boy might end up tangling with an angry father or brother before the night was over.

A knock at the door disturbed his anxious musings but the patriarch didn’t move from his comfortable spot. Hoss was already up to greet whoever was here.

“Clem! What’re you doin’ all the way out here?” Hoss asked. He shook hands with the deputy sheriff and opened the door wider so the other man could enter. “We’re just having some coffee, come help yourself.”

Smiling, Clem stepped into the house, gladder to see the roaring fire in the great stone hearth than anything else. “Don’t mind if I do. Touch of fall in the air tonight caught me off guard. Ben, Adam,” he greeted, extending his hand to each of the men.

“Sit right by the fire then,” Ben encouraged. “We can ask Hop Sing to warm up some supper if you haven’t eaten.” He poured some of the warm drink into a delicate tea cup and passed it to Clem when the man was settled in front of the hearth.

The offer of supper brought a smile to Clem’s face, but he shook his head no. “No thank you, I had a bite not long ago. Wouldn’t do to insult Hop Sing by not finishing a fine plate and I’m too full for that.” He took a restorative drink, sighing as it and the fire warmed him. The deputy always marveled at how well constructed the great room of the Ponderosa was, its fireplace large enough to warm the huge space easily yet never make one feel overheated. That sort of coziness was hard to achieve in large house.

Leaning forward in his comfortable blue chair, Adam looked at the deputy with interest and asked the question on all their minds. “This a social call?” While the family considered Clem a friend, he didn’t often drop by for visits, especially unannounced. Roy Coffee never hesitated to, but they’d known him much longer.

“It’s not,” Clem confirmed. “It isn’t the typical lawman call I make out here though. I don’t need anyone for a posse, there’s no warnings to pass on or problems with any of your men in town.” He drank more coffee and tried to gauge the reactions, and the potential interest, of the three men. “Frankly,” Clem continued, “what brought me out here is a bit of regular old sheriff work that I need some outside help with.”

Hoss grinned and exchanged a look with Adam. “If I weren’t curious before, I sure am now.” He situated himself more comfortably on the settee, crossing one leg over the other, as if settling in for a good story.

Clem took in the eager glint in Hoss’s eyes, the cool and calculating expression on Adam’s face, and shifted uneasily. “Wait until you know what I’m askin’,” the deputy cautioned. He cast a look into his cup and gathered his thoughts.

Ben sensed the other man’s nervousness and sought to put him at ease. “Clem, you know that you’ll have our support,” he reminded the man. “Why don’t you just speak plain?” He offered a friendly smile while reaching for the coffee pot to refresh his cup.

“I could use one or two of Virginia City’s most upstanding citizens to help me catch a thief. Been a rash of petty thefts at the Silver Dollar. Pickpocketing,” Clem clarified. “I’m almost certain it’s one of the two songbirds they’ve got. You’ve seen them; how they go around touching and the like while they sing. Loose money and wallets disappear but just on the nights they’ve got songs going. Only I can’t figure out which of the gals is the thief.” He smiled, but there was no warmth or humor in it. “I need some bait to figure that out and they won’t try it on me or the other deputies. They know us and I don’t think the pickpocket would try us.”

“You want us as the bait,” Adam surmised. “Isn’t there a chance they’d recognize us, too?”

Clem shook his head. “That’s not the point. You’re not the law and you’re not… Well, everyone knows the Ponderosa and the Cartwrights. I can’t think of a better target. Men worth the risk, but ones I can trust. Ones whose testimony will hold weight in court. Sam’s afraid he might lose business and wants to press charges,” he explained. Personally, Clem hadn’t seen the saloon more packed than on the nights those two women sang, but if it kept up for much longer, it just might hurt business. The Silver Dollar wasn’t the only saloon in town.

“I think it’d be better if there were two of you, but I’ll take just one, if you’re willing. I know it’s a lot to ask.” He looked hopefully at the three men before finishing off his cup of coffee. “Any chance of another cup?”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Ben chuckled. “That’s one thing we always seem to have at the ready.” He poured Clem a second cup while considering the kind of help the deputy needed. It was unusual but not unreasonable. He found himself thankful that Little Joe wasn’t home to hear the request. His youngest would volunteer in a heartbeat and there couldn’t be a worse candidate for bait in Ben’s mind. Any good sense Joe had seemed to disappear at the sight of a pretty face. Not to mention he was barely old enough to be in a saloon in the first place! Just thinking about Joe caused him to cast a glance at the ornate grandfather clock near the front door for the umpteenth time that evening.

Adam, too, had a younger brother on his mind, but it wasn’t Little Joe. He watched his middle brother, noting his growing discomfort. The way Hoss adjusted his position on the settee signaled his unease and his face, usually open and sunny, was clouded with uncertainty.

Hoss was feeling somewhat morally conflicted; on the one hand, he wished to assist Clem, both to uphold the law and to assist a man he considered a friend. If anything else was being asked, he’d be the first to offer.  On the other, he didn’t feel at all confident about pulling off the sort of bluff Clem had in mind. Hoss’s head wasn’t turned as easily as Little Joe’s, but he had a big heart. What if the gal needed help? Could he really turn her over? Probably not. Besides, he didn’t rate his acting skills all that high and he got easily flustered around women. The more he thought about it, the more Hoss knew he was not the man for the job. He shot an agitated look towards Ben and shifted on the settee once more.

The scratch of the settee’s legs on the polished floor, shifting slightly each time Hoss did, echoed loudly. Adam was certain the big stones of the hearth amplified the sound and hid a grimace at the rather high pitch and promptly decided to intervene before Hoss grew any more nervous. Sitting back in his chair, his mouth curving upwards into an amused grin. “Sounds like an interesting way to spend an evening. I’m in.” When Hoss sagged with relief, and the settee screeched on the floor a final time, Adam gave his brother a wink. “Is the beer on Virginia City?”

“Hadn’t got that far in my planning,” Clem chuckled. The worry lines on his face eased a bit now that there was a volunteer. “I suppose we can chip in the cost of a beer.” He grinned when Adam waved his hand dismissively.

“You can count on me as well,” Ben offered. “Might liven up an evening. I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be.” He shrugged his shoulders a bit. “Adam’s more likely to attract the lady in question, but I can at least offer another set of watchful eyes.”

It wasn’t often anymore that any of the women in the Silver Dollar paid attention to him for more than a friendly hello and perhaps a drink. He tried to set a good example for his sons, at least in Virginia City! Ben occasionally visited a few discreet, higher-class places on business trips when he felt the need for female company.

“I’m much obliged to both of you.” The deputy took another drink of his coffee and allowed himself to lean back against the stone of the fireplace. The warmth that radiated from the surface was comforting and Clem relaxed even further. “The songbirds are scheduled for Friday and Saturday night. If you’re both free on Friday, I’d like to try and catch the pickpocket then.”

“I know I’m free,” Adam answered. “But I can’t speak for Pa.” He looked at Ben with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Is there room in your busy social calendar for a trip to town? I know it’s a lot to ask.” He grinned as Hoss snickered, and the Cartwright patriarch huffed.

Ben didn’t often venture into Virginia City in the evenings just to drink. If he wasn’t already in town or a social event was taking place, he was typically found at home with a brandy and a book in this very chair. Uninterested in the soiled doves and opposed to gambling as a general rule, he preferred it that way. Brows drawing together in a frown, he asked, “Are you trying to imply something, boy?” He didn’t have to raise his voice much for it seem amplified in the room.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Adam replied. He attempted an air of innocence but the teasing in his tone was a bit overdone. “I just think it’ll come as a surprise for people to see you at the Silver Dollar ogling one of the girls on a Friday night, that’s all.”

“That’s rather the point, isn’t it?” Ben rebutted. He sat back somewhat forcefully in his chair which emitted a distinctly different sound as it scraped against the wooden floor than the settee did. “Don’t go acting like I’m so old I’ve forgotten how to appreciate a beautiful woman. And you just remember all that charm of yours was inherited from me.” He gave Adam a self-satisfied look. “Now, what’s the plan Clem?”

“We should all be in place by seven. You’ll be watching the singers, ready and waiting for one of them to take the bait. I’ll be in the back by the stairs. I’ll come in after the singing starts. If you see something get taken from someone else, come find me,” Clem explained. “If you’re the one that gets pickpocketed, you can stop her right there and bring her back to me. Or you can let her take it and tell me as soon as you can. I’ll collect her and get your wallet back.”

Adam considered it for a moment. “Hoss, maybe you can come along and keep an eye on things? Stay close to the bar and make sure neither of the women slips out or hands anything off to anyone.”

The other man’s face brightened. “That I can,” Hoss agreed easily. “One of ya can signal me when ya know somethin’ and I’ll make sure everyone stays in the saloon. Me an’ Sam both.”

Clem gave Hoss an easy smile. “Sounds like we’ve got a plan.” He drained the last of his coffee and gently put the cup down on the table. The delicate little things made him a bit nervous and Clem never had understood why the Cartwrights seemed to like them so much. “As much as I’d like to stay and pass the evening with you all, I should be getting back into town. Looking forward to putting this little crime spree to rest come Friday.”

Rising from his chair, Ben walked Clem to the door.

———–

All four Cartwrights made their way to Virginia City on Friday evening. For once, Ben was thankful that Little Joe had previously arranged plans with a young lady and would be in her company that night. Little Joe was still learning how to handle himself there and needed a close eye on him, lest he get in over his head with drink, gambling, or brawling. They couldn’t split their focus if they were going to help Clem. To that end, he insisted that Adam and Hoss keep their agenda close to the vest. While Joe was unlikely to abandon the pretty Julie Dowd, Ben didn’t want the boy tempted to do so.

They left their horses at the livery stable before walking to the Silver Dollar. The sounds of revelry reached their ears before they got to swinging doors. The saloon was busier than it typically was for a Friday that didn’t fall on a payday. The usual poker games were going, men sat around shooting the breeze and talking or drinking with the girls, but the size of the crowd was larger, Adam noted. Pickpocket or not, the singing brought in customers. He gave Hoss and Ben a nod before making his way towards a table.

Adam chose his seat carefully, so he wasn’t distracted by a poker game, nor overly burdened with conversation. He greeted acquaintances as he eased into a chair and turned down the offer to share the bottle of whiskey at the table. Beer was more appropriate for the evening’s activities and with his hat tilted low he was the picture of nonchalance while waiting to order one.

A familiar face emerged from a cloud of cigar smoke at the next table over, its pert nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell. Margie’s whole countenance changed as she caught sight of Adam and squeezed her way past a few men to reach him. “Hey stranger,” she greeted. Her words were almost shouted at him despite being next to him as she fought to be heard over the lively buzz of the saloon. “Beer?”

Nodding, Adam’s fingers caught Margie’s wrist gently before she could leave. “Is it always like this?” He didn’t need to specify what ‘this’ was; the sound of a glass shattering nearby only emphasized the over-the-top energy tonight.

Margie shrugged, causing a strap of her ruby colored dress to slide off her shoulder. “Just on song nights. Bit much, ain’t it? Be right back with your beer.” She squeezed his hand and moved away. Feeling his eyes on her, she exaggerated the sway of her hips while walking to give him something to really enjoy before the crush of men eager for the songbirds to come out swallowed her up. Hopefully, that time was coming sooner rather than later. The pianist always sounded better when playing for the singers. When he wasn’t, it was as if he was hammering on the keys the way men worked in a mine! One of these times, Margie was going to smash a glass over his head, so he’d know what that pounding did to hers!

Luckily for Adam, his beer arrived safe and sound and he was treated to another viewing of Margie’s shapely behind as she retreated, her feather-adorned skirt swishing around equally lovely calves. Putting aside thoughts of how much he enjoyed putting his hands on all the curvy delights Margie possessed, Adam made small talk with the other men at the table. The sheer noise of the saloon precluded any possible attempts at serious discussion, which was for the best under the circumstances.

As Adam settled in at a table and nursed his beer, Hoss took up his position. He called out a hello, leaning casually at the bar until Sam had a chance to take his order. Already filled in on the plan earlier, Sam greeted Hoss as he always did, shouting a greeting before making his way towards him. “Howdy Hoss. Can I get you a cold beer?”

“Read my mind,” Hoss grinned. “That sounds real good. How you been?” Often seen at the bar talking together, no one paid the pair any attention. They shared snippets of news back and forth with a natural ebb and flow that came with Sam serving drinks. Everything from how late the stage was that day to which girl Joe was sparkin’ this week was talked about as Hoss kept a watchful eye on the room.

The Cartwright patriarch found a seat at table near the center. While it only allowed him visibility of part of the saloon, Ben knew that between Adam and Hoss, the rest of the area was covered. His position was strategic, placing him relatively near the piano and what was likely to be the best area for the singers to dance during their numbers. Aside from that, it was spaced away from Adam, and his tablemates were dissimilar to his son’s. It didn’t make sense to sit together, or offer the same type of target, after all.

Familiar with all but one of the men, Ben found himself in good company.  Noticing the whiskey bottle was nearly empty, he signaled Sam for another. He offered the bartender a smile when the man approached with the fresh bottle. “A beer for me, please, Sam,” he added. The voices of the men seated nearby rose to chide him, but Ben raised a placating hand. “Just to start. Nothing removes the dust of a ride into town from a man’s throat like a cold beer.” He didn’t have to wait long for the mug to arrive and raised it in the air, gesturing at his fellow businessmen. “A toast, gentlemen? To an evening’s entertainment.”

“And what an entertainment it is,” one added, a devilish look on his face. “I’ll surely drink to that.” Glasses clinked loudly, but the sound was drowned out by the poker game one table over. The players had called, and one man shouted jubilantly at the realization that he won while the other threw down his cards and cursed loudly in anger before standing so quickly his chair fell over with a crash. Ben held his breath, half anticipating an accusation of cheating, or at the very least a fist fight. With the number of men packed in here, each with one drink or more inside them, the situation could quickly spiral out of control. It was a relief when the angry player merely kicked at the overturned chair before pushing his way to the bar.

Moments later, the din came to a sudden halt as Delilah stepped out from the back hallway and made her way towards the piano for her performance. She wore a tight-fitting, low-cut gold-colored dress that shimmered even in the saloon’s dim lamplight. The neckline, if one could call it that, barely kept her breasts inside the gown. There was anticipation at each performance that Delilah’s singing and dancing might cause them to escape their fabric confines and offer the saloon a very special show. It hadn’t happened yet, but the men who regularly attended the songbird evenings were counting on it occurring at some point. A few even had bets placed on when it would.

A man at the bar elbowed his friend beside him, drawing Sam’s attention. “Tonight’s the night, eh?” The bartender rolled his eyes and moved away once he realized a ruckus wasn’t about to start.

“I got my bet placed for tonight. Do you?” He downed his beer and gestured at Sam for another.

“Sure do. Middle o’ the second song tonight, they’s gonna bust right out. Glory be, I cannot wait to see it.” He readily envisioned the twin globes of womanhood falling out of Delilah’s costume, preferably right in front of him of course. “Naturally, I’ll jist get right in there.” He mimicked putting his face between Delilah’s ample bare breasts and shook his head from side to side.

“Not if I win and it’s me getting’ an eyeful,” his friend countered. “Gonna give ‘em a good squeeze.” He mimicked the action in case it wasn’t clear. “And a little…” He demonstrated the way he’d tweak Delilah’s nipples should he get the chance. “Pull a little, too. Gals like that.” The words were offered with a level of surety that made it clear that was what he thought and there was a distinct lack of experience to back up the statement.

“You know, you could do all that and more if you paid for their time,” Sam pointed out, his voice carrying down the bar. “The girls don’t give anything for free. Whatever bets you’re placing on a wardrobe mishap are a waste of time. They don’t take chances of that.”

Leaning on the end of the bar, Hoss frowned at the way all three men talked about Delilah. Though if he was honest, the gentle giant wasn’t sure what it was the two young hands were talking about when it came to bets. Waving Sam over, he asked, “What are they goin’ on about? They bettin’ on her clothes?”

The bartender tried to answer but a sudden increase in the hoots, hollers, and boot stomping for Delilah made it impossible to do so verbally. Instead, Sam shook his head and used his hands to imitate the singer’s breasts falling out of her dress, bouncing enticingly, though it lacked the charm of the real thing as the bartender acted it out. Hoss immediately looked towards Deliliah, waiting for the crowd to quiet, and turned red. He took it in stride when Sam chuckled and clapped him on the back good naturedly.

The pretty saloon singer gave the room an appraising look and tapped her foot with feigned impatience. “I won’t yell over all you,” she teased. “You gonna listen, or not?” Only after the accompanist played a jaunty tune did the crowd grow quiet, allowing Delilah to begin the first of two numbers. The song was a well-known ballad and many of the men joined in as she sang, skirt twirling to reveal colorful petticoats beneath and hints of shapely leg. She teased as she moved around the saloon, blowing kisses, tapping noses with a finger, and sidled up to several of the men who sang along with her. She bounced along with the music, and so did her assets.

Delilah had a special set of men that were favored with her charms: reliable drink buyers, regular upstairs clients, skilled poker players with money to burn, and a few business owners. Dusty cowhands smelling of their work and unreliable with funds, were largely bypassed. Delilah sashayed by with a wink and a smile but carefully kept out of arms-length. She sat on the lap of one of Ben’s tablemates and twirled the end of his mustache but barely gave the Cartwright patriarch a glance.

Delilah’s attentions were equally selective during her second number, a slow, romantic ballad of lost love and heartache. Though her movements were slow to match the pace of the tune, they were no less deliberate. Of the Cartwrights, only Hoss was given any of her time. He was in the right place, sober looking, and not as dusty as most of the clientele, making him an easy choice to swoon against for a few seconds. The strong arms held her gently yet readily released Delilah when she was ready to twirl away, earning Hoss the only genuine smile of the evening.

When the ballad concluded, the saloon roared its appreciation of her efforts. As Delilah blew kisses and slowly receded from view, the Cartwrights shared brief looks and assessed the situation. Adam, still in possession of his wallet, gave a slight shake of his head while Hoss shrugged his shoulders. He, too, still had his money and hadn’t seen Delilah attempt to pick anyone’s pocket or anything out of the ordinary. Chances were, it was the second woman who helped herself to things that didn’t belong to her.

Out of nowhere a man nudged Adam in the ribs and gave him a grin. “Got a nice voice, don’t she?”

“She does actually,” the man in black conceded. “You never know with saloon acts.” Adam drank some of his beer and mulled over Delilah’s singing. “There’s some rough talent looking for refinement I think,” he continued. “Almost a pity she’s wasting it on us.” The man next to him scowled, clearly taking Adam’s words as an insult to the songbird’s admirers. “I said almost. Our gain.” Raising his mug in salute to Delilah, Adam handily defused the situation. The last thing anyone needed was a fight!

They didn’t have to wait long for Sally to make her appearance and the sight of her caused the saloon to roar into life, the reception for Delilah paling in comparison. A collective of rough voices bellowed her name at the top of their lungs and men at the bar began pounding their fists against it, seeking her attention. A table of poker players broke out in a chorus of, “Sally, Sally, Sally, love you we do!” The singer glanced their way and beamed in appreciation.

Stepping forward away from the piano and under the brightest light in the room, Sally let the men feast their eyes on her. She wasn’t called Saucy Sally for nothing! Unlike Delilah, who dressed the way one expected a saloon girl to, Sally’s style was the opposite. She wore a lacy, scandalously low-cut chemise and frilly drawers; a corset that barely contained her bountiful assets and accentuated a trim waist; and dark stockings on her long, lithe legs. The laced boots on her feet made them arguably the most covered part of her person.

Somewhere among the hazy, smoke saturated saloon, amid the drunks, smelly cowpokes, drifters, gamblers, and assorted other men who gathered here to see her was the next pot of gold. Or at least a few dollars more for the kitty she and Delilah were building. Saucy Sally wielded her power over the men night after night as they whistled and cheered, emptying a pocket or two as their thunderous appreciation of her talents shook the rafters and windowpanes alike.

Sally allowed the men to ogle her for a moment longer, letting their eyes hungrily drink in her womanly form, some in adoration, others expectant, and others still fantasizing about the ways they might like to use her. When the stench of stale alcohol and tobacco began filling her nose, Sally put a finger to her lips asking for quiet. The chaotic roar ended almost at once and she smiled, beginning to hum lightly. She winked as a few men began to hum the tune along with her. “I do believe they’re ready,” Sally purred to the accompanist.

As the first notes of the song were played, Sally flounced over to a table and sat down heavily, scattering the cards as she did so. “I’ve tried it once or twice…” She leaned forward, kissing the nearest man’s nose. “And found it very nice.” After playfully pulling the man’s hat down over his eyes, she stretched invitingly across the surface and offered a ‘come hither’ look at the gamblers. “Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again!”

Grabbing a handful of cards, she tossed them in the air and sprang up from the table as the saloon erupted in cheers. Light on her feet, she moved to another table and another group of men, trailing a hand across a shoulder here and nuzzling a cheek and a neck there before launching into the chorus. “Roll me over in the clover. Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again!” She flitted away, stopping at another table where she took a cigarette from a cowboy’s mouth and had a long drag, returning it to his mouth while blowing the smoke in his face. With a grin she reached across for a mug of beer and offered a look down her corset in exchange for a drink, setting the glass down with a loud plonk. Men whistled in appreciation of a view they all imagined. “Now this is number one and he’s…”

The Cartwright men were beside themselves as the song continued, each for entirely different reasons. Sally worked her way towards Hoss, delighting in how petrified he looked. The closer she got, the more agitated he seemed to be, and not in the way she was accustomed to. Determined to play with him as she did everyone else, Sally jumped high, causing her breasts to nearly bounce out of her corset, and reached for Hoss’s hat, snatching it off his head.

Hoping she’d be satisfied with the hat, Hoss backed a foot away from her only to find Sally in pursuit. Hands out to try and ward her off, the songbird simply leaned into them, letting him touch her pillowy mounds. The entire saloon groaned in envy of the big man, though Hoss was humiliatingly conscious that every eye was focused on he and Sally. Shocked and flushing crimson from head to toe with embarrassment, he snatched his hands away from her and put them at his sides, backing up even further.

As Hoss let go and moved away, Sally stumbled slightly and only just managed to catch herself on the bar. She spied Hoss, now backed against the wall near the swinging doors and put his hat on her own head before proceeding to trap him there. Sally closed the space between them and turned her back towards Hoss and began grinding her buttocks against his groin.

“Ma’am, ma’am! You oughtn’t do that,” Hoss called out weakly. Sally didn’t pay him any attention, or rather, wasn’t giving anything but his cock any attention!

“Now this is number three,” Sally thrust back harder, beaming at the whine Hoss made and the erection she felt against her backside. “Fancy fucking, fast and free!” She started the chorus, and Hoss looked helplessly at Sam, who was roaring with laughter. Even Adam was no help; the eldest Cartwright brother was facing away from Hoss, shoulders shaking with laughter. Finally, Sally moved on, tossing Hoss’s hat back at him as she continued her bawdy journey around the saloon.

Once he stopped laughing at Hoss’s predicament, Adam found it difficult to keep his mouth shut as he watched Sally work the crowd like a seasoned professional. Everything about the situation was confusing—she looked so young and innocent, but her song was deliciously dirty. He was charmed by her ability to shock him; no easy feat. He struggled to stay focused on the reason he was here in the first place and yet appear interested enough to bait her.

Before Adam knew it, Sally had hopped up on the table in front of him. She promptly rolled onto her stomach and playfully poked the belly of one of the other men. Her finger dipped into a mug of beer, scooping out foam which she blew onto a second man’s face. The way the man moaned in response was obscene.

“Now this is number four, cut the notch, I’m keepin’ score!” She bounced back up and put her shoe on Adam’s chest.  He instinctively leaned the chair back, putting it on just two legs. “Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again.” On the word again, she jabbed her foot, hard. Arms flailing, Adam tried to keep his balance and right the chair, but it was no use. Both spilled onto the floor with a heavy thud that drew a loud “Ow!” from the oldest Cartwright son. Mirth erupted as he sputtered indignantly, and no one laughed louder or harder than Hoss. Before he managed to get up, Sally slid off the table and stepped over him before sashaying away.

“Roll me over in the clover. Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again!” Sally repeated the chorus a few times, to the piano player’s consternation, as she tried to decide on her prize for the night. When she found him, her eyes lit up and she made her way towards him, leading the saloon in the chorus. Dressed in a crisply pressed gray suit and sharp silver vest, the Cartwright patriarch looked especially handsome tonight. Add in the gray hat he wore on top of that fine head of hair, and he was a sight to behold. She wondered if he dressed so nicely just to come here tonight. Either way, his fat wallet was going to be a joy to take.

Despite the job he was there to do, Ben hoped to avoid becoming Sally’s target. He was mortified for the young woman, singing such a bawdy song to a room full of men lusting after her, as she egged them on. He watched as she came closer, twirling away from the many eager arms that reached for her, listening to the hoots of hollers of those vying for her attention.

It wasn’t that the song offended him. No, Ben was a man of the world and had been around the world, in fact. He’d seen and heard things far worse than this dirty little ditty, and enjoyed them, too. Ben had even enjoyed women like Sally back then. Now, on the rare occasions he sought female companionship, he didn’t go looking in saloons for girls as young as Sally appeared to be. When he recognized that he’d become her prey for the evening, his heart plummeted. Somehow it felt wrong to play games with a girl so young, pickpocket or not.

Almost before Ben realized it, Sally was perched somewhat unsteadily on his knee. She put an arm around his neck, leaning close, offering him an intimate look at the creamy expanse of her breasts. Fearing she might topple over, Ben’s own arms circled her waist to keep her stable. Sally took that as an invitation to lean even closer and pressed her breasts against him. “Well, aren’t you handsome,” she whispered. Delilah suddenly reappeared beside the piano and carried the chorus as Sally’s hand began rubbing Ben’s chest lightly, eyes locked on his.

As abrupt and unexpected as Delilah’s reappearance was, so too was the way Ben’s body betrayed him. Oh, he knew exactly what Sally was doing—she was surreptitiously feeling for the location of his wallet! Yet the brush of her soft hand against his chest, the heady scent of her perfume, and the very nearness of her, stirred his cock to life. All the self-control Ben prided himself on possessing seemed determined to abandon him. She was far too young for him, barely more than a child really, and that wasn’t even the purpose of his being here!

She noticed his discomfort at once and it made her smile. After locating his wallet, Sally’s hand strayed lower, deliberately rubbing against the growing bulge in his trousers. “I do like me an older man,” she whispered. “They’re just better.” Sally pouted prettily when he caught her hand and firmly moved it away from his cock, his touch gentle but firm.

You have a job to do! Use this to your advantage somehow. Think, Cartwright! Releasing her hand, Ben gave Sally an appraising look. “Later,” Ben murmured. The single word became a question with a raised eyebrow. If she took his wallet, this could give him an opportunity to follow her and catch her red-handed with it away from the crowd. Given her obvious popularity, a confrontation in the saloon wasn’t likely to be the wisest choice. Ben could well imagine her calling for her army of admirers to intercede and the response was sure to be violent. He wasn’t looking to pay for a whole saloon worth of damage tonight.

She winked in confirmation of his proposal and began to rise from his lap. As she did so, Sally pulled his face into her chest, setting off a roar of laughter. With the warmth of her holding him tight, she skillfully removed Ben’s wallet and slipped it into a pocket of her drawers, hidden amongst the frills. It was done fast and seamlessly, the sign of a well-honed talent. Theft now accomplished, Sally let go of Ben’s head and giggled softly as the man reared back so forcefully his chair moved at least an inch. Hair mussed, face scarlet, Sally realized he was embarrassed and nearly felt bad for him. He won’t be coming later after all; pity. That was probably for the best, given she’d lifted his means of payment for her time. Regretful at the missed opportunity for a what Sally was sure was a skillful lover, she flounced to finish her song.

Adam and Hoss were beside themselves. The younger of the two had kept a keen vigil on the saloon door from nearly the very moment Sally helped herself to Pa’s lap. The way that gal looked at Pa as though she was dying of thirst and he was a cool spring, and how dadgum uncomfortable he was, it was too much for Hoss to take. He had to look away before it got any worse and missed the sight of Ben’s face being shoved into Sally’s boobs. As he heard her move away from Pa, resuming her song in a different area of the saloon, Hoss turned back and rather wished he hadn’t. Pa’s face was the fiercest shade of red he ever saw, though whether from anger or embarrassment, or both, he couldn’t tell. I know just how he feels. The way Pa’s hair was messed up said something had happened and he didn’t want to think about what.

Looking to Adam for guidance on how to proceed, Hoss found his elder brother was just as discomfited by the entire scenario. Where Hoss had simply turned tail, Adam pulled his hat down low. When Sally started to rise, he’d adjusted the brim just in time to see Pa get a face full of her womanly charms. While they were lovely, and Adam would happily trade places and examine them closely, he had no desire to see Pa that way. Add in the embarrassment not just visible on the Cartwright patriarch’s face, but seemingly coming off the man in waves, and it was almost too much to take. Sally had masterfully embarrassed all three of them tonight.

The first thing Ben did was reach for the bottle of whiskey on the table and help himself to a glass. After downing it rather quickly, he felt for his wallet and wasn’t surprised to find it gone. He tried to catch Adam’s eye, which took longer than it should have as both his sons were avoiding straight looks in his direction. When Ben managed it, he nodded, then inclined his head towards the back where Clem was waiting.

As Adam rose to alert the deputy sheriff, Ben attempted to pull himself back together. He smoothed his hair down as best he could and tried to think of anything at all that might suppress his erection. Anger might be the right way to go, and he felt plenty of it just then. Anger at Sally for stealing hard-earned money from men too infatuated with her or too drunk to notice the trickery, and with himself for the way his body reacted to her. By the time Sally finished her first song and ended the evening’s performance with a rousing rendition of Charlotte the Harlot, Ben had himself firmly under control once again.

After alerting Clem that a theft had occurred and which songbird did it, Adam took up a position with the deputy sheriff in the hallway. Clem remained near the back stairs while Adam watched for a sign from Hoss that Sally was coming that way. Ben would follow shortly and confront her about the missing wallet so Clem could take her into custody. That was the plan at least and if this evening had taught the Cartwrights anything, it was to be ready for surprises.

At the bar, Hoss nodded when Sally concluded her performance and was giving what appeared to be her last goodbyes for the evening. He only felt relief as she began making an exit, moving further away from him in the process. While Sally hadn’t come near him during her second number, he hadn’t enjoyed a minute of it, fearing she might. Hoss was certain another encounter would be the end of him in more than one meaning of the word.

Adam saw the nod from his brother and turned to warn the deputy. “They’re on their way.” The pair stepped back into the shadows to avoid detection as Sally moved down the dimly lit hall with Ben on her tail.

She heard the footfalls of a steady, powerful stride behind her almost immediately and slowed her steps even before the man—for it was clearly a man—spoke to her.

“Miss?” Ben tried to sound friendly, even if he was wary of her tricks.

Sally turned towards the sound of Ben’s voice, offering him a wide smile. “Who’s miss?” she asked teasingly. “It’s Sally. I’ll even let you call me Saucy Sally if you want.” She moved closer, pressing herself against him and began fingering the black string tie he wore. “Here I thought I mighta ruined things for me an’ you.” For a moment, she did nothing but play with the tie to make it lie limply against his broad chest. When she finished, Sally’s hand moved to his shoulder and trailed slowly down his arm. Sally cooed at the powerful muscles she felt beneath the suit. He’ll be a hell of a ride. For once, I’m gonna enjoy myself!

Ben stood there, allowing her to touch him while her gaze roved over him appreciatively, and willed his body not to respond this time. He thought of branding calves, dead cattle, anything else that might keep his penis flaccid.

Ready to continue her exploration of this man in detail, Sally slipped her hand into his and murmured, “Let’s go upstairs.” As he grasped her hand, she saw his eyes grow dark and Sally shivered with excitement as she turned to lead him down the passageway.

Only they didn’t move.

Ben’s hold shifted from her hand to her wrist in an instant, stopping Sally mid-stride. Caught off guard, she stumbled a bit, putting her free hand against the wall for support. Rather than smile and flirt, Sally’s eyes narrowed as she reappraised the well-dressed older man. “I thought you were a gentleman, Ben Cartwright. I’m not providing a free show for any of the saloon that peeks down the hall,” she asserted, her voice bold and sure. Her free hand moved from the wall to her hip to make her stance more authoritative in the face of the tall, strong man still holding her wrist. “It’s upstairs or it’s nowhere!”

“Nowhere,” Ben replied easily. He leaned towards Sally, locking his eyes on hers. “You have my wallet, and I’d like it back, please.” Though the words were polite enough, the cool authority of his tone made it clear Ben wasn’t making a request.

Her eyes widened in alarm for the briefest fraction of a second, but a steely mask came over her face just as quickly. “I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about. Either come up or take your hands off me!” Sally’s voice rose an octave, with hopes that Delilah might hear and come to her aid. Or, at the very least, alert Sam.

“I’m all done playing games, young lady,” Ben warned. “You’ve got two choices. Hand it back to me now or see what happens if you don’t.” He didn’t want to search her person for the wallet, but he’d do just that if she pushed him. Before the conversation could go any further, out of the corner of his eye Ben saw something sailing through the air towards them. Instinctively he ducked, pulling Sally with him as a chair went over their heads. It hit the lone lamp in the hallway, putting it out and sending the area into darkness as glass showered around them, and crashed into the two figures in the shadows. Ben couldn’t see who it hit or how badly, but curses and groans told him the chair had struck someone.

When the lamp went out, Clem and Adam were left to blindly make a split-second guess of how best to avoid the wooden chair careening towards them. Adam hit the floor as quickly as he could, groaning at the impact of the sudden drop. Clem tried to flatten himself against the back door as much as possible, going so far as to suck in his stomach to aide the effort. Despite his efforts, leg of the chair struck Clem in the face, knocking his head back into a pane of the door’s glass window. He cursed loudly and began picking shards of glass out of his hair before realizing that was a fool thing to do in the dark.

At the sound of someone hitting the floor hard, Ben dropped Sally’s hand and moved towards the noise. “Adam! Adam, son, are you hurt? Someone get me a light!” Feeling for the body on the floor, Ben turned Adam over onto his back only to have his eldest push his hands away. With a scowl, Ben started fumbling to light a match to see the damage. Though if Adam was pushing him away, he couldn’t be that hurt.

Somewhere behind them, a female called, “Run, sissy, run!” As the match burst into life, Ben caught sight of a second chair being tossed in that direction and dove on top of Adam. It landed against the wall beside them, the back of the chair splintering on impact.

“Delilah’s got one hell of an arm, along with a decent voice,” Adam grumbled as he and Ben sat up.

“Delilah?” Ben asked, lighting another match.

Before Adam could answer, the girl in question dashed past them, heading for the back door. Still a bit dazed from taking a chair leg to the face, Clem’s reaction time was off and Delilah slipped right past him. The hall was suddenly bathed in bright light as Hoss appeared with a lantern in hand, just in time for Ben to see Sally take off up the stairs. Adam and Ben got to their feet, shared a brief look, and took off in pursuit. The younger man went out into the alley after Delilah while the patriarch took the stairs two at a time.

Hoss looked at the back door, then glanced at the stairs, and finally over at Clem. “I’m stayin’ out of it. Them two can have those girls,” he decided. Bringing the light closer to Clem, he winced at the large purplish bruise developing on the deputy’s right cheek bone. “Better go ask Sam for a steak for that face ‘fore it gets any worse.”

Clem nodded, wincing as he did so. “While I do that, will you find another deputy and send him after Adam and Delilah? Tell him to take her in and send Adam back this way. We still got Sally to sort out, but Miss Delilah’s gonna answer for this.” He indicated the bruise on his face.

Upstairs, Sally slammed the door shut and leaned against it, chest heaving as she breathed hard. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Where’m I supposed to go now?! As she tried to fight off the growing panic and think of an escape plan, Sally heard something that chilled her to the bone. Thundering footfalls on the stairs. Someone was coming up after her and there was no need to guess who. Knees quaking, she reached for the key to lock her door, only to find the lock empty. Nothing there, waiting to be turned and secure the only thing standing between her and Ben Cartwright: a single, solitary door.

I’ve gotta find that damn key! Dropping to her knees, Sally started searching with increasing desperation for one brass-plated door key. She ran her hands along the wood floor, under the thin rug, and beneath her dresser, panting in desperation the longer she went without it. All the while, the sounds of another search going on sent her heart racing with each door Ben opened and closed again. He’d come to the right one soon enough. “Where’s that fucking key?” Sally ground out.

She pulled out a drawer and tossed the contents onto the floor, sinking down beside them to search wildly through the frilly drawers and stockings. Coming up empty, she picked the whole lot up and threw them across the room. Angry at her failure, Sally kicked her bed with the toe of her shoe. She regretted the action at once as her toes began to throb painfully.  “Oww! Fucking shoes, too damn tight!” Grabbing at her injured foot, Sally hopped in place, letting out a string of curses in several different languages. It was amazing what one could pick up in a saloon. Her pursuit of the key and the reason for it were momentarily forgotten.

——-

Despite taking the stairs at speed, Ben alighted on the second floor too late to see which room Sally ducked into. Though a door had surely been closed as she did so, he hadn’t been near enough to hear it, leaving him with many options to choose from. Shrugging slightly, he began with the one nearest him, throwing the door open with a bang. No one was inside, so Ben moved on, striking out a second and third time as well. The fourth door was locked and he pounded on it, calling Sally’s name.

A burly bearded man responded, shirtless with his cock hanging out of his opened trousers. He opened the door wide, revealing a nude young woman in the bed. “That’s Lily,” he said simply.

Just past the other man’s shoulders, Ben could see the buxom young woman, her raven hair spread across the pillow. Spotting him, she offered a lazy grin and waggled her fingers in greeting. “You bringin’ a friend? I don’t mind, but it’s extra.”

Closing his eyes in dismay, Ben silently cursed Clem for ever coming to his door with this plan, and himself for ever being foolish enough to agree to take part in it.

“No, I ain’t.” The man put a large hand on Ben’s chest and scooted him out of Lily’s view. “Git on about yer business.” Considering the matter dealt with, the door was promptly slammed in Ben’s ruddy colored face.

The Cartwright patriarch turned away, giving serious consideration to the thought of washing his hands of Saucy Sally and turning the whole mess back over to Clem. He might have done so, if not for her shout and the loud, rapid-fire cursing that allowed Ben to follow the sound of Sally’s voice. He bit back a smile at a few of the more colorful phrases, more likely to be heard on board a ship than in a saloon.

Arriving at the correct room, Ben turned the knob and gave the door a push. Dark eyebrows rose sky high as he observed Sally hopping on one foot, holding the other, as she continued to utter every vile thing she could think of. Laughter bubbled up within him, but Ben quickly tamped it down. Theft was not funny, and he refused to give her the idea that it was. Rather than chuckle or even interrupt Sally’s tirade, Ben merely stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, left eyebrow quirked, and waited.

He wasn’t kept in suspense for long. The angry sputtering soon tapered off, and Sally hobbled towards her bed, collapsing on it with a magnificent pout. Ben’s presence went completely unnoticed, his pursuit and the search for the key far from her mind. Head down, her fingers worked the laces of her black boot and eased it off her sore toes with a whine.

“Well, that was quite the tantrum.”

Sally’s head shot up in alarm at the sound of Ben’s deep voice emanating from the doorway. The evening’s events rushed back, causing her to take a sharp breath while fingering the wallet still hidden in the pocket of her drawers.

He pinned her with a stern look and moved a bit further into the room. “Finished then?” Ben didn’t expect an answer to the rhetorical question and merely continued. “You’ll find this will go much easier if you stop playing games. I know you have my wallet. I felt you remove it, despite your efforts to turn my mind elsewhere. And I saw you checking just now that you still had it. You’re out of places to run, Sally. Hand it over and we’ll go have a talk with Deputy Foster.” There was no polite veneer to Ben’s words anymore, unlike his first attempt to gain her cooperation downstairs. Now, his tone commanded obedience. Given the energy spent on her tantrum, Ben anticipated getting it this time around.

Once more, the night offered a Cartwright a surprise as Sally screamed in frustration and pitched her shoe directly at Ben’s head before making a dive at the open window.

————

Out on the street, a man dressed in black was quickly losing his patience with the songbird he carried over his shoulder. Delilah’s fists beat a steady tattoo on his back that accompanied her shrill demands that he let go of her. Adam was sorely tempted to do just that; by dropping her into the nearest trough to cool her down! Rather than give in to that urge, Adam continued to make determined strides towards the sheriff’s office.

Bursting through the door with Delilah still shouting dramatically, Adam merely gestured at the cells and didn’t bother with an explanation. Tom wasn’t quite ready to jail someone just on a Cartwright say-so, if one could call it that. Though he headed in that direction with the keys, he gave the other man a questioning look. “This the pickpocket then?”

Adam sighed heavily. “Not quite; Clem sent her over.”

The key turned in the lock, but the cell door didn’t open. “Oh?”

“Hit him in the face with a chair.”

Scowling, Tom swung the door wide open and gestured for Adam to drop his charge. He did so—none too gently, right on the floor. Any delight Delilah felt at learning she’d managed to injure the deputy disappeared as she made a hard, undignified landing on her backside.

Leaving Delilah in Tom’s hands, Adam hurried back to the Silver Dollar to check on Clem and find out what was happening with Madame Pickpocket. As he jogged in that direction, something hanging out of one of the second story windows caught his eye. Skittering to a stop, Adam’s brows furrowed as he tried to comprehend what exactly he was seeing. It looked like someone attempting to crawl out of a window. The only people upstairs at the Silver Dollar were the girls and their clients.

The color drained from his face as realization dawned. The figure was definitely a woman—no man was shaped with the lovely curves highlighted in the moonlight. He took off at a run for the saloon, preparing himself to catch the woman if she made it out and tried to jump from the roof. Adam couldn’t help wondering what sort of monster was driving her to make such a dangerous escape. Lips thinning, fists clenched, his eyes growing dark and cold, fury towards the man in that room filled him. As soon as she’s safe…

All at once, a second figure appeared in the window and took hold of the girl’s shoulders. Adam was close enough now to get a good look at both individuals and his eyes widened in astonishment.

Sally! And Pa. The anger and urgency drained away, leaving Adam baffled as he stared at the vignette playing out in the window just above him.

“Oh, no, you don’t, young lady! You get right back in here!” Ben thundered, pulling Sally back inside the room.

The tone of Ben’s voice made Adam wince and rub the back of his neck in discomfort. Madame Pickpocket had no idea about the danger she was in! His mouth formed an ‘o’ and both eyebrows rose high under the brim of his hat as the sounds of a fight drifted out into the night. There’s no way I’m missing this. Running into the saloon, Adam yelled towards Clem that Pa had Sally cornered upstairs and went to watch the show.

———

Given the way the evening had gone, perhaps he should have expected her to throw the shoe at him. Ben let out a yell of surprise and ducked just in time to avoid taking it in the face. His hat was not so lucky and both items of clothing landed somewhere behind him. Standing up and dusting himself off, Ben turned to look for the hat but stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of Sally attempting to climb out the window. She can’t be serious! “Jumping Jehoshaphat!” He ran towards the window, only to be greeted by a kick from a shoeless foot.

“Get away from me!” Sally ordered. She tried hard to make her voice sound stern, but it was no match for the thunderous look on Ben’s face, nor the bellowing that followed.

One hand covering his groin for protection, Ben slapped her foot away with the other. “Oh, no, you don’t, young lady! You get back in here!” Patience now depleted, he put his hands on her shoulders and hauled Sally back into the room in one fluid motion. Keeping one hand there to ensure she didn’t try another escape, Ben started to pat her down with the other as respectfully as possible. He was going to get his wallet and turn this young woman over to Clem if it was the last thing he did!

Sally glowered at Ben as he firmly held her in place and began to search her person. He wasn’t invasive, but that wasn’t the point. Her eyes darted around the room looking for something, anything, because she was not ready to give in. Ben Cartwright could shout and threaten all he liked, but Sally was determined not to let him win. She just knew he’d confiscate all the money she’d stolen.

His hand finally landed on the object he was looking for, hidden in a pocket of some sort beneath some frills. “Take it out of there and give it to me. Now!” Ben ordered.

She reached towards her drawers to do as he asked, then grabbed for something on the nightstand just behind him. Riding crop in hand, she swung it with all her strength and felt a surge of satisfaction when Ben cried out. His hand fell away from her shoulder and Sally swiped at him a second and third time, moving towards the window once more.

Clem and Adam arrived just in time to see Ben’s shoulder take yet another hit with the riding crop. Both winced in sympathy. “Should I step in?” Clem murmured.

Adam shook his head, even as the crop landed again with a resounding thwack. “Pa wouldn’t appreciate anyone thinking he couldn’t handle the situation himself.” He looked between the smug songbird with the crop and Ben’s sharp look of ire. Even though the anger wasn’t directed at him, Adam sucked in a breath at the intensity of it. If anyone needs help, it’ll be her.

A triumphant grin settled on Sally’s face as she held the riding crop out to ward Ben off. Finally, something was going in her favor! She had a real chance of escaping now. The fat wallet in her drawers would more than make up for the loss of the rest of the money hidden in her room.

Just as Sally convinced herself that she’d managed to cow Ben, he took a large step towards her. “Don’t come any closer!” Her tone was less sure now, but she bravely swung the crop again, aiming for his face; and missed.

Clem glanced at Adam and chuckled at the look on the other man’s face. Rarely did he see the smile on Adam’s face that was there just now. Full dimples, eyes crinkling at the corners, the grin was wide and unabashed. He swore Adam’s eyes were actually twinkling.

The man in black crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. He could only shake his head at Sally’s folly. Here it comes.

“THAT IS ENOUGH OF THAT YOUNG LADY!” Ben shouted.

Adam nodded to himself. And there it is.

Ben made a grab for the crop as Sally squealed in alarm and attempted to smack him with it yet again. Grasping it firmly, Ben yanked hard to take it from her. While he had strength on his side, Sally had stubbornness and when he pulled, she came right along with it. The girl crashed into Ben with enough force that he stumbled backwards and took Sally, still holding on to the crop for dear life, along with him. One arm went out to feel for the rail of her bed to steady himself, but Ben’s efforts were sorely undermined when his boot slipped on a silky chemise floor.

With a shout, the pair fell backwards onto the bed, and the crop went flying. Clem and Adam, still completely unnoticed by Ben and Sally, followed the crop’s trajectory, their heads looking up towards the ceiling and back down again when it landed near their boots. The two men glanced up in unison as Sally screeched and attempted a dive from the bed towards the implement. Her endeavor was cut short as Ben locked an arm around Sally’s waist and hauled her over his knee.

Still standing in the doorway Adam’s eyebrows inched increasingly up his forehead as he watched the spectacle unfold with interest, right up until Sally was bottom up for a spanking. Wincing, Adam shook his head. Pa’s not really going to… A solid crack of Ben’s hand across the seat of Sally’s drawers provided the answer to that question. Adam tugged on his ear and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’m going to get a drink.” The sound of Clem’s chuckle followed him down the stairs.

He found his brother at the bar and joined him there, motioning Sam for two fresh beers, certain Hoss could use one just as much as himself. Neither man said a word until the glasses arrived, and each had taken a good drink of the cool liquid.

“Where’s Pa? And Sally, for that matter? I ain’t seen either one of ‘em since Delilah was hurling chairs. That was a sight, weren’t it?” Hoss grinned as he recalled the bravery of that little gal, then took another drink.

Adam traced the rim of the glass with a finger, lips pursed. “Oh, they’re still upstairs. Having a little talk.” He raised his eyes and met Hoss’s gaze.

The middle brother frowned, knowing he was missing something but not entirely certain what it was. “Talkin’?” Hoss repeated. “Why ain’t they doing that at the sheriff’s office?”

The eldest raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “A necessary talk, brother.” He took a slow drink of beer and watched the astonishment bloom on Hoss’s face.

“You don’t mean…” Hoss swallowed hard, not bothering to finish the sentence. His brother would know what he meant. The wry grin Adam threw his way confirmed Hoss’s suspicions, causing him to shake his head and sigh sadly, his gentle heart going out to her. “Poor little gal.” The sympathetic thoughts for Sally were interrupted as Adam began choking on his beer.

Poor little gal, indeed.

——-

The initial panic that rose in Sally’s chest at being well and truly caught subsided the moment she realized Ben intended to spank her. Rather fond of that sort of thing, provided it didn’t get too rough, she couldn’t decide whether to laugh in relief or at the sheer unoriginality of it. Wisely, Sally did neither, keeping that information all to herself.

As the firm, measured swats began to fall, she bit back a sigh of pleasure. The stinging warmth spread across her cheeks and went straight to her core. Skilled at playing this game, Sally cried out in protest as Ben’s hand moved back and forth, smacking each cheek in turn. “Oh! Ow! You don’t have any right!” He couldn’t see the smile on her face, and she took considerable care not to moan as the sensations of pleasure built inside of her. It wouldn’t do to let Ben know how much she was enjoying this. After all, he thought this was punishment.

Before long, Sally was wiggling and rocking over Ben’s knee, desperately seeking friction for her clitoris to amplify her arousal. Unaware at present that Sally was enjoying being disciplined, he saw her squirming as continued defiant behavior and addressed it as such. “Keep still, young lady,” Ben ordered sternly.

Forgetting momentarily what role she was meant to be playing, Sally responded in a bratty tone, “Let’s trade places and see if you can keep still!” She realized her mistake immediately, as the swift smack to the undercurve of her backside was hard enough to make her gasp. The ones that followed were equally painful. Dammit; overplayed my hand.

“You keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll continue this conversation using my belt,” Ben promised. “Do you understand me?”

Sally shivered and this time, it wasn’t in delight. He meant that and she didn’t enjoy being whipped the way she did a nice spanking. Although this one was quickly moving away from pleasurable towards downright painful! “Yes, sir,” she replied, doing her utmost to sound contrite. Oh, please let it work! Almost as if by magic, Ben’s hand stilled and Sally smirked.

The Cartwright patriarch nodded at her words. “That’s more like it. Are you going to stop this nonsense now and behave? Return my wallet discuss all this pickpocketing with Deputy Foster?”

And here is the dilemma, Sally thought. Oh, she was more than aware that the night was going to end with her in a cell. There was no avoiding that outcome anymore. The only question was whether or not she’d get an orgasm before they locked her up. Should she say no, Cartwright was going to undoubtedly continue spanking her, and there was the chance of a climax so long as it didn’t get too painful. No guarantees on that score. If Sally agreed that she’d behave herself, he was sure to let her up and then there was no chance of getting off; sexually or criminally.

Ben frowned at the back of Sally’s head when she didn’t respond. Likely pouting. Or trying to gauge her chances at trying for the window again? Silence in and of itself was an answer, and not the one he was looking for. Shrugging, he raised his hand high and resumed the spanking with considerable vigor.

“No no no no no!” Sally yelled. She squirmed with abandon again, but this time not in pleasure, but an attempt to move her backside out of the line of fire. Dammit, doesn’t he ever miss?! It was time to cut her losses. “I’m ready!” she squealed, throwing a hand behind back to block his hardened palm. “I mean it, I’m ready, I’ll give your wallet and… and whatever else you said.” Frankly, she’d been so focused on how lovely the spanking felt at first that she wasn’t paying as much attention to his words as she should have.

Ben’s hand stilled once more, but he didn’t allow Sally up just yet. “If this is a trick, so help me…” He let the threat hang in the air, allowing her imagination to fill in the blanks.

The young woman shook her head. “I promise, I’m done. This ain’t fun anymore.” Eager to prove herself trustworthy, Sally retrieved his wallet from her drawers and thrust it back at him.

Sighing heavily, he took the wallet and helped Sally up from his lap. “Get something decent on and we’ll go to the sheriff’s office. Find your shoe while you’re at it and make sure you don’t throw it again.” Sally raised her chin defiantly and Ben’s eyebrows rose in warning. They stood there, attempting to stare one another down, until finally Sally threw her hands up in the air and began searching for her shoe.

Too evenly matched, she thought. And he was serious about that belt.

A chuckle drew Ben’s attention to the doorway. At the look of displeasure the older man threw his way, Clem turned his laughter into a cough and covered his mouth with his hand. Ben crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the deputy. “And just how long have you been standing there?”

Clem cleared his throat and tried not to smirk. “Long enough,” he answered, careful to keep his tone even. “Thought you might need a witness in case she decided to bring charges, that’s all. You had everything under control and didn’t need me for anything else.” He offered a conciliatory smile.

“Charges?” Sally’s head popped out of the top of a blue dress. “Charges against who? For what? We talkin’ about charges for the show you just got?” She quirked an eyebrow at the deputy. “’Cause we oughta be.”

Now it was Ben’s turn to hide a smirk; he failed at it miserably, earning a glare from Clem. “No, not that,” he hurried to correct Sally. “Charges against Mr. Cartwright here. Or rather, so nobody could make accusations of anything untoward happening.”

She nodded slowly as she processed his words. “No, I ain’t gonna lay charges on Mr. Cartwright. He put up a good fight.” Sally offered him a smile. “Besides, it ain’t right to bring a charge for that—” She pointed at the bed, clearly indicating the spanking that had taken place there. “When I enjoyed most of it.” Sally threw Ben the sauciest look she could muster.

Ben’s jaw dropped and he stared blankly at Sally. That doesn’t make any sense.

Clem was equally dumfounded but managed to recover much faster. He grabbed Sally’s wrist and pulled her out of the room; they were halfway down the stairs when the older man fully processed her words.

“YOU WHAT?!”

————-

Thirty minutes and a cup of coffee later, Ben found himself flabbergasted yet again. He sat on the corner of Clem’s desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe if I pinch hard enough, I’ll wake up from this never-ending nightmare. He released his nose, disappointingly found himself still in the jail, and sighed. “Let me try to get this straight,” he began, looking Sally in the eye. “All this—” Ben waved his hand at the pile of wallets, cash held together with money clips, and assorted bags of coin on the desk. “Is for your birthday?”

Everyone in the room cringed a bit as the volume increased on the word ‘birthday.’ “Yes,” Sally responded. “Well, actually, no,” she revised. “Just a part of it.”

Ben looked heavenward and prayed for strength while his sons snickered behind his back. A dark look silenced them in an instant. Even Clem was keeping quiet, unwilling to interfere with the Cartwright patriarch’s interrogation when he was in high dudgeon like this. Once his sons had looked away, wilting ever so slightly under his stern gaze, Ben looked back at Sally and Delilah. “One of you please explain with an answer that makes sense.”

Delilah peered up at Ben through her lashes, far more intimidated by him than her sister was, despite being the older of the two. “Sal needs shoes. Hers are too small and they’re really startin’ to hurt her. Good ones cost a whole lot though. And we wanted to do somethin’ special for her birthday. We don’t never celebrate really, but she read somethin’ in a book and—”

Sally elbowed her sister, hard to make Delilah wince. “That’s none of their business,” she hissed.

Leaning against the door of the sheriff’s office, Adam stirred at Sally’s words. Rather than ask the insulting question of whether Sally was literate, he couched it in another, polite way. “What were you reading?” He ignored the scowl Pa gave him for interrupting and offered the young woman an encouraging smile, dimples and all.

Refusing to be embarrassed, Sally met his look and found only kindness in Adam’s eyes. Her posture became less tense as she allowed her shoulders to relax. “It was a travel magazine, not a proper sort of book. Had these real nice sketches of San Francisco. The harbor?” She watched him nod in recognition of the place. “I bet it’s awful pretty in person. I never seen an ocean, or any sort of big water.” A little sigh of longing escaped unbidden from her lips.

Adam could sense her longing and, having been there himself many times, understood. Sketches didn’t do the wonder of seeing it any justice at all. “And you wanted to go,” he concluded, sympathy coloring his tone.

“My birthday was last week. I turned nineteen. Nineteen whole entire years I’ve been alive and ain’t gone nowhere or done nothing.” Sally looked away, unwilling to see his kind look turn to pity. “When I saw the sketches, I thought we could go for my birthday, Delilah and me. See it in person and, if we saved enough, get her some singin’ lessons. She’s much better than I am an’ could be a real singer if she got some good lessons. But it ain’t easy to save on what we make. After a couple months, there was hardly nothing at all.”

Delilah nodded, confirming her sister’s assessment of their meagre savings. “We weren’t never going to save up enough. Not in our whole lives. Maybe for Sally to get better shoes, but not more ‘n that. Then Sal thought…” She looked at her sister and fell quiet, making an intense study of her worn green dress. A patch on her knee was nearly see-through now; it was so worn.

The gentle giant sitting near the entrance shifted in his seat before speaking up. “Miss Sally? I’d be mighty happy to buy you a pair of shoes,” Hoss offered. “You just gotta make me one promise.”

The young woman eyed him suspiciously. “I ain’t givin’ out free favors, boy. If that’s what you’re looking for, keep them shoes.” She watched Hoss’s face turn redder than a big, ripe tomato and reconsidered him. “No, you’re not that sort,” Sally decided. “What is it you want?”

“Next time I’m at the Silver Dollar? Don’t come dancing at me.” Hoss gave her a shy grin that only grew wider when she beamed at him.

“That’s a promise I can make and keep.” Sally stuck out her hand and felt a bit of a thrill when Hoss rose to shake it. Maybe this day wasn’t going to end so badly after all. At least she’d have good shoes while she kicked her heels in jail for a spell.

Thinking on somewhat similar lines to his brother, Adam cleared his throat. “I know a few people who give voice lessons in San Francisco. I’d be happy to write letters of introduction for you, Delilah. You really do sing very well and with some training, you’d be a wonderful addition at Piper’s or anywhere like it.” The speed with which Delilah flew from her chair into his arms was alarming, but Adam had plenty of practice catching damsels in distress—and otherwise.

Every eye then turned to Ben, who was finding it difficult to hold on to the level of consternation he entered the office with. Sally had spent quite some time picking the pockets of men who likely had little to spare and didn’t show much remorse for it. Yet, if he looked at her now, dressed more demurely, paint scrubbed from her face, Ben could see she was little more than child. Barely older than Joseph!

Clem could see Ben’s resolve faltering and shook his head. “Don’t say it. I’m beggin’ you Ben, don’t say it.”

Ignoring the younger man’s plea, Ben stood up and looked Clem in the eye. “I’m not pressing charges.”

The deputy took off his hat and threw it on the desk, growling in frustration. “After all this! How’re they gonna learn Ben, if you don’t press charges? They’re just going to do it again!”

The Cartwright patriarch shook his head. “I’m going to take them to San Francisco.” He held up his hand to quiet Sally and Delilah as they started squealing with joy. “Sally will see the harbor, Delilah will be enrolled in voice lessons, and I’m going to find the pair of them proper employment and see they stick with it before I return. And if there’s any trouble at all during this trip—and I do mean any, not just pickpocketing,” Ben pointed a stern finger at Sally. “You, young lady, will get a spanking and I’ll make sure it’s one you don’t enjoy.”

The younger Cartwright’s heads spun around quickly, goggling at Sally as though the young woman had just sprouted three heads. They expected her to refute the outrageous accusation; complain, stamp her foot, anything at all to indicate that it wasn’t true. It simply couldn’t be!

Sally’s only response was a slight blush and a cheeky smile that seemed to issue the older man a silent challenge: We’ll just see about that!