UNBROKEN PROMISE

~15~Do you mean spankings?

Mama Becca leaned back in her chair, her sharp eyes fixed on me as I finished the last bite of the warm cornbread she'd set in front of me. The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and baked apples, the pie she'd just put in the oven filling the room with a comforting sweetness. But despite the cozy atmosphere, I could feel her gaze lingering, waiting for the right moment to speak.

She always had a way of drawing you into a conversation you weren't sure you were ready to have.

"So," she began, her voice calm but probing, "how's Logan been treatin' ya lately?"

The question hung in the air, and I fidgeted with the edge of my napkin. I had known it was coming. Mama Becca didn't miss much, and she'd been asking after me every chance she got since I arrived. It wasn't that Logan had done anything wrong-he hadn't. But something about how she asked made me feel like I needed to give a better answer than "fine."

I swallowed and managed a small smile. "He's been kind," I said, which was true. "Real kind."

Mama Becca raised an eyebrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. She wasn't one for half-answers, and I could tell she wasn't going to let me off that easy. "Just kind?" she pressed, her voice as gentle as it was firm.

I hesitated, glancing down at the table, where my fingers were busy tracing invisible lines on the wood. I wasn't sure how much to share, or if I even wanted to. Logan had been nothing but kind to me-strict most times, sure, but always fair
"Well... he doesn't really say much," I admitted. "He's polite, and he's been good to me....."
And yet, there was that lingering uncertainty in the back of my mind, the nagging question about this "discipline structure" he'd mentioned to me.

Mama Becca waited patiently, clearly sensing there was more to my answer.

"Well..." I began, shifting in my seat. "He did mention somethin' about discipline. You know, how things are done around here."

Mama Becca's eyebrows raised slightly, and she leaned forward, her arms resting on the table. "Ahh," she said knowingly. "He talked to ya 'bout that, did he?"

I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush. "Yeah. I didn't really know what to make of it at first. He said it's just how things are done 'round here, but... I don't know. It's all still so new to me."

She was quiet for a moment, her eyes thoughtful as she considered my words. Then, with a slow nod, she began to speak.

"It's a way of life here, sweetheart," she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of experience. "It ain't just about rules or punishments. It's about keepin' order, about teachin' respect, and makin' sure everyone knows their place in the family. Logan, he's followin' in the footsteps of his Pa, and his Pa before him. It's how things have always been done."

I listened intently, my hands resting in my lap as I tried to absorb her words. I had heard about the old ways, the traditions passed down through generations, but I hadn't fully grasped what it meant to live by them.

"It ain't easy, especially for someone like you, comin' from the outside," she continued. "But Logan, he ain't doin' it out of meanness. He's tryin' to keep things right, keep you safe, and make sure you know you're cared for."

I nodded slowly, though I still wasn't sure how I felt about the whole thing. "But... what exactly does that mean for me? I mean, he talked about discipline, but he didn't go into much detail."

Mama Becca smiled, a soft, almost motherly smile. "Well, darlin', discipline means different things for different folks. But here, it's about makin' sure you understand when you've done wrong and helpin' ya learn from it. Sometimes, that means a firm word or two. Other times, it might mean somethin' a bit more... physical."