Page 268 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

“If you wish me to be honest, your lack of a relationship isn’t because of your appearance. Men appreciate a bit of softness in their lives. No, honey, it is because you are too young to act so old. You spend more time making sure others enjoy their lives than living your own. Instead of feeling as if you have to fix the lives of anyone you know, stop dispensing advice to all your friends and take mine. Go out and meet people… young folks. Let them know the sweet girl who is my daughter and I promise that you will find the love you deserve.”

Betsy had thought that was what she had been doing in her pen-pal correspondence. She groaned with the realization that Jane was right—she was a fuddy-duddy! It was obvious that while she was glad she’d been able to help these men get through what had to be some of the darkest hours of their lives, she could have been an eighty-year-old granny writing the same letters. Of course, if she were a granny, that would mean she’d at least have experienced some passion in her life.

Sighing deeply, she spent the next hour writing back to her pen-pals, tucking a hand-made card from her students into each letter. Her little pupils adored drawing cute pictures and writing words of encouragement to the soldiers overseas. Betsy congratulated George on his engagement while trying not to allow the ridiculous resentment of Sherry’s happiness show in her response. She wished him the very best and knew she’d never write to him again.

Her emotions were all over the place. How could the words from a stranger meant for another have her heart aching? What would it be like to have a man care for you so deeply that he felt not only the need but the right to chastise you for what he considered naughtiness? While she wasn’t one to be free with her affections, neither was she a total innocent. She’d gone on her share of dates and had even kissed a few yet had never felt the urge to give into their desire to go further. She’d certainly never allowed a man to caress her breasts! Then how could it be that simply reading ink on a piece of paper had her wondering what Mr. Bossy’s—no, make that Jack’s—hands on her bare flesh would feel like?

“Betsy Riddle, you should be ashamed of yourself!” she softly chided. It was clear she was ignoring her own words when her next thought was that she still would like to discover the answer… even if it was her bottom he was caressing.

With another look over her shoulder as Jane called out that she was leaving, Betsy read the return address on the most recent letter and then reached for the box Jane had left on the table. Thumbing through the disorganized pile of letters, she retrieved any that bore the name of Major Jackson Novak. A little voice told her that what she was about to do could be considered invasion of her best friend’s privacy. Another little voice, which appeared far bolder, reassured her that Jane’s gift of Mr. Bossy would include learning all she could about him. How else was she to do that without reading every word he’d written? It took her a half-hour to read through the letters, watching a budding relationship grow with each one. However, it did appear that Jack was far more interested in a future with Jane than she with him and yet even that scenario didn’t feel right. It was like Jane had said. The man seemed to be more of a big brother than a possible suitor. He always thanked her for her wishes he remain safe from harm and, as the months had passed, began to gently and then more firmly chastise her for what he considered activities that could cause her harm.

Pushing those thoughts aside for a moment, Betsy began a list of what seemed to be Jack’s interests… well, those other than her roommate’s proclivities for fun. She smiled to learn he was a huge fan of baseball. He was also from Texas and, wow, seemed to have a huge family. He spoke about his siblings and the ranch where they’d grown up in the hill country outside of Austin. A vague memory of sending cookies and Christmas cards to all her pen-pals and some of Jane’s flashed through her head. Had Jack been one of those recipients? After finishing the letters, she took several minutes to think about what she was considering. While her pen-pals were good men, suddenly they seemed like boys. She didn’t particularly care that Jack was a major, but he sounded so much more mature. Did she really want to correspond with a man who seemed much sterner than her usual soldiers? Her rapid pulse told her the answer and after replacing the envelopes into the box, she retreated to her bedroom, dug in her desk drawer and returned to the kitchen. Opening the gift she’d received for Christmas from her grandmother, she smiled at the scent of lilacs that wafted up from the pale purple paper. Taking out the first sheet, she began to write.

Dear Jack,

I come to you with mixed emotions as well. I confess that your last letter has caused me to think about the path my life is taking. I’m sorry that you don’t approve of my behavior…

“Geez Louise, girl, that is about as boring as the price of soy beans,” Betsy mumbled to herself as she crumpled the sheet and tossed it into the trash. Remembering what Jane had said about the fact that these were men first and soldiers second, she pulled a fresh piece of paper from the stationery box. By the time she’d written a letter that might be acceptable, there were three additional balls of purple paper in the bin.

Did she really dare send this one? What would Jack think of her reply and, God forbid, what would her mother think? Imagining both her mother’s advice and the fun that Jane was even now having on her date with Joe, Betsy straightened in her chair, folded the paper in half and slipped it into a matching purple envelope. She licked the three-cent stamp and then gathered up all the letters she’d completed. Afraid that she’d lose her courage if she simply put the letter into the box on their porch and raised the flag, she slipped on her shoes and walked several blocks to where the large community mailbox stood. She hesitated for just a moment, feeling a sudden surge of guilt at her deception but then, remembering Jane’s statement she was “giving” Mr. Bossy to her, she allowed the envelopes to drop from her hand. It was too late now. And besides, Jack Novak was halfway around the world, and letters were known to be lost in transit, and even if it did arrive in his hands, maybe he’d choose not to respond.

Walking back home, she could hear the sound of the nightly newscast coming from the open windows of the houses she passed. Glancing at her watch, she hurried her steps. Once back home, she flipped on the radio and straightened the living room a bit as it warmed up. If she couldn’t be on a date with a real man, at least she could listen to the Bing Crosby Show. She listened to the tail end of the latest newscast about the war efforts and made a mental note to purchase another war bond the next time she went to the bank.

As Bing crooned his songs, she carefully and meticulously set her hair in row after row of pin-curls. Applying her Pond’s cold cream to her face, she listened intently to one of her favorite programs, The Adventures of Ellery Queen. When it was over, she turned the radio off, kicked off her slippers and climbed into her bed. In her letter, she’d asked Jack if he preferred to listen to the radio or read a book. Of course, she hadn’t been brave enough to mention her current reading choice. Opening her nightstand drawer, she pulled out Lady Chatterley’s Lover and began to read. However, within two pages, she put the book aside. For the first time, Oliver was not doing anything for her. Instead, all she could think about was a man named Jack Novak.

Turning onto her side, her hand tucked under her pillow, she drifted into sleep. Her dreams placed her on the lap of a certain Army major whose arms were wrapped tightly around her. Softly whispered words assured her that though she’d been a naughty girl, she was his girl. Her hand slipped from beneath her pillow to rub against her bottom cheek as if to soothe away the ache caused by a spanking. When the phantom Jack bent to place a kiss on top of her curls, she smiled and snuggled closer, never feeling more cherished.

Chapter Three

“Oh, it’s so good to have you back safe again, Major.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Knoll. It’s good to be back.”

She stood and motioned toward the closed door behind her. “The general will be with you in just a few minutes. Sit down and relax, you look exhausted. I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

Jack smiled at the British woman who so reminded him of his mother. “Thanks, Mrs. Knoll.” If he hadn’t realized he was among his own countrymen before, he did now with just the mention of coffee. Though she was a Brit herself, she knew enough about him to know his preference to coffee over the tea she and her compatriots preferred.

He took a seat, his hat held in his hands as he waited. He seemed to be waiting quite a lot lately, but he didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to think. As always upon returning from a mission, he’d been summoned to Allied HQ near London. Jack grinned when he realized that he wasn’t wondering about his debriefing, but instead was thinking about Jane’s response to his last missive. They’d been corresponding for a few months and while he’d enjoyed the arrival of her letters, he had to admit that their exchange might be ending soon. It seemed Miss Jane Kennedy wasn’t the woman for him. He was positive she was a wonderful gal, one who loved fun and would make some man a wonderful wife… but his gut was telling him that she wouldn’t be settling down anytime soon. While he was ready to find that one special woman, one who believed in the value of a what Jane called an “archaic way of life,” he’d yet to find her. With the war, it seemed that more and more young women were discovering that the world was changing.

Jack knew all about change. He’d grown up in Central Texas on a small ranch where everyone’s parents or grandparents seemed to be either Czech or German, having come to America at the end of The Great War. Though his heritage was Czech, their numbers were in the minority and German was the only non-English tongue freely spoken. From childhood, Jack had German speaking neighbor kids as friends and his studies naturally included German, where he excelled. He worked hard in his studies, knowing that his parents couldn’t afford to send him to college. His determination to further his education was evident when he graduated as Valedictorian from his high school. He’d given his speech, thanking those who had helped him reach this point in his life, all the while knowing he would be leaving within two weeks. Jack’s mother had cried, and his father had been proud when Jack had received the notification that he’d been accepted into the military academy at West Point. The requirement to serve in the Army after graduation wasn’t a deterrent. He considered it an honor to serve his country and knew he couldn’t ask for a better education.

He graduated as a second lieutenant, quickly made first lieutenant, and then captain once he was stationed in Hawaii. He’d been there on the day the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor. He’d watched as planes dove and bombs exploded. Like every man who witnessed the destruction, lost friends, and saw the veil of safety torn away, he’d not hesitated to pack his gear and travel across the world in order to report to the newly established OSS in Europe. He had no doubt that his present position and assignments were based on the fact that he was fluent in German.

“Jack, come on in.”

Jack snapped to attention, a bit chagrined that the general had caught him unawares. “Sorry, sir,” he said, standing.

“Nonsense, I’m aware that you haven’t exactly had the opportunity to sleep.” The general stepped aside to let Jack enter. Mrs. Knoll entered right after him, carrying a tray with coffee cups, a pot of coffee and a plate of cookies… or biscuits as they were referred to on this side of the Atlantic. After she’d served both of them, she took her leave. The general made small talk as Jack finished his first cup and poured another.

“So, son, tell me, what’s the status of the mission?”

Jack spent the next two hours giving detailed information about his latest foray behind enemy lines. Since the United States had officially entered the war, Jack and several others in the OSS had been working to gain the trust of members of the resistance in France. Jack’s affinity with language allowed him to converse not only in German but he had also quickly picked up enough French to communicate. His engineering degree helped him plan how best to disrupt everything, from lines of communication for the German command to destroying railroads, bridges, and anything that would hamper their supply lines. It was slow work, but Jack was a believer in what he did. He’d worked alongside not only men, but women, who were willing to risk their lives fighting in the shadows. It was dangerous but absolutely necessary to keep evil at bay.

“Another successful mission,” General Helmsley said, clapping him on the back. “I hear that you almost didn’t make it back this time.”

“I have Lieutenant Markers to thank for my life. That man is one hell of a pilot. I swear to God he’s got some bat DNA in him. The man can sense obstacles that I can’t even see.”

The general nodded and grinned. “I’ve heard tell of his skills. Think it might be time to promote him?”

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