Travis tilted his head, eager to hear the answer himself. But before Cassandra could say anything, another voice rang out from the porch.
“Cassie?”
The distance did little to disguise the wonder on Meredith’s face—wonder that quickly transformed into happiness so radiant that Travis wished he’d been the one responsible for it. Then she let out a little squeal and charged down the steps as if she hadn’t just spent two days in bed after being kicked in the head by a mule.
Her cousin broke away from Everett and ran to meet Meredith, surprisingly unconcerned about the hem of her pretty pink dress dragging in the dirt. The two women embraced, and at once, Travis recognized the bond between them. Meredith loved her cousin the way he loved his brothers.
“How did you ever convince Aunt Noreen to let you come?” Meredith asked as she gently untangled herself from the embrace.
“I didn’t ask.” Cassandra waved away Meredith’s arched look. “She never would have agreed, so there was no point.”
“But she’ll be livid about you exposing yourself to the scandal of the situation.”
“I’m here with my father and a man of the cloth—surely that will protect me from any imagined taint. I couldn’t miss your wedding. Not after all we’ve shared. I would have rented a horse and ridden here unescorted if I’d had to.”
Meredith laughed softly. “You? On a horse? That would’ve been something to see.”
Cassandra pulled a face and shuddered. “A horrendous sight, I’m sure. But I would have done it had Papa not relented and allowed me to join him in the wagon.”
Travis’s impression of the little princess bumped up a couple of notches. Perhaps there was a woman of character behind all the flirtatious smiles, after all. But the quick glance she darted toward Jim before linking her arm through Meredith’s left no doubt that her being here still spelled trouble.
“The first thing we have to do,” she said, as she steered Meredith toward the house, “is find you a different dress. You can’t get married in that old thing.”
“But I don’t have—”
“Yes you do. I packed your trunks.” Cassandra paused long enough to toss a softly pleading look Jim’s way. “If one of these strong Archer men would be kind enough to bring them inside for us?”
In answer, Jim strode to the back of the wagon. Travis followed. It was only fitting that he help cart his future wife’s belongings. Crockett could deal with Everett Hayes and the preacher.
The women left the front door ajar behind them, and when he and Jim entered the house, the aroma of cinnamon and baking swirled around them. Jim twisted toward the kitchen and raised an eyebrow but didn’t pause on his way down the hall. Travis, on the other hand, took a moment to breathe in the delicious scent. He hadn’t smelled anything like it since his mother passed on.
Cassandra was showing Jim where to set the first trunk when Travis arrived at the bedroom, so he took the opportunity to sidle up next to Meredith. “What’re you baking?”
“Cinnamon rolls. They just came out of the oven.” She dipped her chin as if embarrassed, although about what he couldn’t figure. “I hope you don’t mind. I know it probably seems silly considering the unusual circumstances surrounding the wedding, but I thought it would be nice to have some way to mark the occasion. You didn’t have much sugar left, so I decided against a cake. I found a tin of cinnamon buried behind the coffee and thought sweet rolls might be an acceptable substitute.”
He grinned. “I can’t wait to taste them.”
She smiled back, and a little frisson of pleasure coursed through him. Reluctantly, he stepped away and pulled the trunk off his shoulder to place it against the wall next to the one Jim had brought in. Travis turned back to Meredith, but before he could continue their conversation, Cassandra maneuvered between them and expertly shooed him out of his own room.
“Thank you, gentlemen. Why don’t you show my father around while I help Meredith change?”
She closed the door before Travis could answer, which was probably for the best, since she was bound to dislike his response. There was no way he’d be showing Everett Hayes anything on his land except maybe the charred shell of his barn. The man was in business with Mitchell, and despite the ties he had to Meredith, he was the enemy.
“I have a surprise for you.” Cassandra released the door handle and spun to face Meredith, her eyes glowing with secret glee. “Come see.”
Meredith’s tummy fluttered in anticipation as she followed in Cassandra’s wake. Her cousin unbuckled the straps of the first trunk and threw open the lid with a flourish. “It’s polished muslin instead of satin brocade, but it’s blue and there’s plenty of lace. What do you think?”
She twirled around, an Egyptian blue-and-ivory-striped gown pressed to her torso.
Tears welled in Meredith’s eyes. “You’re letting me borrow your courting dress?” Aunt Noreen had commissioned that dress from a local seamstress, and to the best of Meredith’s recollection, Cassie had only worn it once.
“No, I’m giving it to you. Consider it a wedding gift. I let out the hem last night, so it shouldn’t be too short.” She slid an arm under the skirt and held it out for Meredith’s inspection. “My stitches aren’t quite as fine as the dressmaker’s, but no one will be looking at your feet.”
“Oh, Cass. It’s b-beautiful.” She barely got the words out before a sob lodged in her throat and cut off her ability to communicate.
Cassandra laid the dress on the bed and rushed to Meredith’s side. “Now, don’t start crying,” her cousin admonished in a teasing voice. “You don’t want your eyes to be all red and puffy when you exchange your vows with Travis.” She reached into the pocket of her skirt and retrieved a handkerchief, then paused with her hand only half extended. “You are marrying Travis, aren’t you?”
Meredith nodded vigorously as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
Cassandra let out a hearty sigh and handed her the lacy handkerchief. “Good. For a minute there, you had me worried.”
Meredith dabbed her eyes and blew her nose before setting the soiled handkerchief aside and lifting her chin. Cassie was right. Travis wouldn’t want to see her all red-eyed and weepy. He’d told her he admired her courage and fortitude. He wouldn’t want a maudlin bride. She drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
Cassandra nodded her approval and gave her a gentle push toward the bed, where the dress lay. “Now, let’s get you changed.”
Meredith smiled at her cousin as she reached for the buttons at her neck. “So, dear fairy godmother, did you bring me glass slippers, too?”
Cassandra laughed. “Didn’t you hear? Glass slippers went out of fashion last century. All the fairy godmothers are providing kid leather nowadays.” She knelt down by the trunk again and rummaged around until she finally pulled out Meredith’s Sunday button-up heels. “See?”
The two giggled just like they had as girls huddled together on Cassie’s bed, reading Perrault’s tale of Cinderella. Meredith’s worries floated away on the laughter. She felt lighter than she had in days.
Stepping out of her simple work dress, Meredith reached for the blue-striped skirt of Cassie’s courting costume. “You really are my fairy godmother, you know,” she said in all seriousness, fitting the skirt over her hips. “I was trying so hard to be practical about this impromptu wedding, telling myself that little things like a dress and a cake and a bouquet of flowers didn’t really matter, but deep down I ached over not having them. Then you roll onto the ranch with everything I need to make this day special. Including yourself.”
Cassandra helped her with the fastening at the back of the skirt, and once it was in place, Meredith twirled around and wrapped her arms around her cousin. “Getting married without Mama and Papa is hard enough, but I was certain that Aunt Noreen would keep you away, as well. Having you here is like a miracle, Cass. A lovely miracle that gives me hope for my future.”
The two hugged each other
tightly for a moment, then separated. Cassandra reached for the solid blue polonaise with the striped trim that fit over the skirt and held it out so Meredith could slip her arms into the sleeves. As it settled into place with its elegant draping in the back, Meredith snuck a peek at herself in the bureau mirror. “I’ve never worn anything so fine, Cass. I feel like a princess.”
“Well, you should.” Her smiling eyes met Meredith’s in the glass. “Your prince is certainly handsome. No wonder your infatuation lasted all these years. The Archer men are a comely bunch—those rugged physiques and the mysterious air surrounding them. Did you ever learn why they are so adamant about keeping to themselves?”
After twelve years, the Archers were grown men and no longer faced the dangers that threatened them when they were children, but even so, Meredith couldn’t bring herself to share what little she knew. It seemed disloyal to Travis somehow, and if he was to be her husband, he deserved her loyalty. Perhaps if he grew to trust her, he would grow to love her as well.
Meredith turned away from the mirror and gathered up her shoes along with the button hook Cassie had dug out of the trunk. “I’ve been laid up in bed, Cass, recovering from an injury. We haven’t exactly had time to delve into the Archer family secrets.”
“I suppose not. More’s the pity.” She sat on the bed behind Meredith and began undoing her cousin’s braids. “I guess I forgot about your injury in all the wedding excitement. You seem to be much recovered.”
“The dizziness has passed, for the most part, but my head still aches a bit. Oh, and the area behind my left ear is rather tender,” she warned as Cassandra tugged a hairpin free near the spot where Samson’s hoof had collided with her skull.
Cassie’s hands immediately gentled. “I’ll be careful.”
Once the braids were undone, she ran the brush through Meredith’s hair and Meredith closed her eyes as the bristles massaged her scalp, sending delightful tingles along her neck.
“It’s too bad we don’t have time to roll your hair in rag curls,” Cassie said. “You look so pretty in ringlets. But the wave from your braids will give us just the right volume for a lovely French twist. And I have ribbons to dress it up even more. Travis won’t be able to take his eyes off of you when we get done.”
Meredith allowed herself a smile as she submitted to her cousin’s artful ministrations. She knew she was no great beauty, and the prettiest hair in the world couldn’t hide her limp or make up for the fact that she was a bride of duty instead of love. But if Travis could look at her this morning with appreciation flaring in his eyes when all she’d worn was a faded housedress, perhaps seeing her in full bridal finery would dissolve any lingering regret he harbored from drawing that short straw.
She’d vowed to the Lord last night to do her best to be the wife Travis needed, but in her heart of hearts, she desperately wished to be the wife he wanted.
17
Travis paced along the front of the house. An hour. Meredith and her cousin had been closed up in his room for an hour. How long did it take a woman to change her dress, for pity’s sake? He was going to be out a full day’s work at this rate.
Crockett was doing his best to keep the visitors entertained. Well, the parson, at least. The two of them were sitting on the porch discussing sermon topics and spiritual flock tending as if they had known each other for years.
Jim and Neill had returned to work on the lean-to, promising to come as soon as the women were ready. That left Travis with Everett Hayes, a man he respected little and trusted even less. They’d run out of things to say to each other after the first five minutes. So now, Everett Hayes sat on the porch eyeing the Archer pines as if he were measuring them for his mill while Travis paced the yard in front of the house, tension coiling tighter in his gut with each pass.
By the time the front door finally opened, he’d wound himself so tight, he nearly sprang out of his boots.
Cassandra stood in the doorway, one of those dazzling smiles on her face. “Thank you for your patience, gentlemen. We’re ready for you to take your places in the parlor.”
As she slipped back into the house, Travis mumbled, “It’s about time.”
Everett Hayes had the gall to wink at him. “Better get used to it, Archer. Things are never the same after you install a woman in your house.”
“That is true,” the parson said as he pushed up out of his chair, his expression slightly censorious as he glanced at Everett. “But if the Lord is installed, as well, the changes can bring blessing to a man.” He shifted his attention and peered at Travis. “Marriage is a sacred union, son, and not something to dread. As Ecclesiastes says, ‘Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. . . . A threefold cord is not quickly broken.’ Keep God woven into your relationship and this union will make you stronger. But if you treat it as a burden, it will become one.”
Travis stared into the kind eyes of the preacher and nodded. This was not the time to fret over work going undone or to stew about Everett Hayes and his connection to Mitchell. This was the time to focus on family, old and new. For that is what Meredith would be after today—family. And as such, she deserved his consideration and his patience. The work would keep.
“You all go in,” he said. “I’ll fetch Jim and Neill.”
Travis made his way toward the lean-to, and when his brothers came into view, he called out a greeting and waved them in.
Neill jogged over to meet him. “It’s time, Trav?”
“Yep.”
“It’s sure gonna be strange having a girl livin’ here.” Neill leaned against the wall of the shed, his knees and elbows poking out at odd angles. “I reckon I’ll hafta start pullin’ on my trousers before I go use the outhouse at night, huh?”
Travis fought to keep a straight face. The boy looked seriously aggrieved by the inconvenience. “Yep, I reckon so. But at least you won’t have to worry about the washing anymore.”
Neill’s face brightened considerably at that. “Jim told me that she’d be taking over the cookin’ but he didn’t mention nothing ’bout the washin’.” He bounced away from the shed and gave a little hop toward the house. “C’mon, Trav. Get a move on. We gotta get you hitched!”
Travis chuckled. “Go clean up at the pump, scamp. I’ll be there in a minute.” Neill trotted off, and Travis turned to Jim. “You think the kid’s glad to get off laundry detail?”
“He might change his tune when all his duds start smellin’ like flowers,” Jim groused.
“Why would they start smelling like flowers?”
Jim shrugged. “Just stands to reason that if a woman starts handlin’ a man’s clothes they’d start smellin’ like her. And women smell like flowers.”
“Meredith doesn’t smell like flowers.” Travis frowned. He remembered the rose scent the schoolmarm used to douse herself in. He’d never misbehaved in class for fear he’d suffocate if he had to stand in the corner next to her desk. Meredith smelled nothing like that. She smelled . . . well . . . like Meredith. Like cinnamon and sunshine.
“Cassie does.”
Travis hadn’t noticed anything particular about the way Meredith’s cousin smelled, but he wasn’t about to argue. Instead, he clapped his brother on the shoulder and quirked a grin at him. “We’ll all have some adjustments to make—Meredith included. And no matter what our clothes end up smelling like, the woman’s family, now. Remember that.”
Jim’s mouth curved slightly upward. Then he nodded and clasped Travis’s arm, sealing the silent pact. Archers stood together, no matter what. Not even frilly-smelling laundry could tear them apart.
Jim released his grip and moved past. Travis pivoted to follow, but something caught his eye near the fence surrounding the garden plot behind the house. Near the gate stood a small brushy shrub, its branches intertwined with the wooden pickets. Most of the tiny white blooms that had dotted it earlier that fall had faded, but one section still blossomed. Travis altered his course.
Meredith
might not smell like flowers, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t like some. His mother had always kissed his cheek whenever he picked wild flowers for her. She’d fussed over them and put them in a jar with some water and told him what a thoughtful boy he was for bringing her such a pretty present. It seemed like a paltry offering now that he was older, but maybe he’d get lucky and it would make Meredith smile.
Hunkering down beside the fence, he took his pocketknife and hacked off the thick stems holding the largest clusters of flowers. The reddish centers of the calico asters stood out against the spiny white petals as he ordered and reordered the stems, trying to decide which arrangement looked the best. Not having a clue how to make such a judgment, he finally just shoved them together and pulled a white cotton handkerchief from his pocket. After the awkward job of rolling the fabric diagonally against his thigh with one hand, he wrapped it around the stems like a bandage around a wounded arm and knotted it off.
Travis shoved his hand deep into his trouser pocket to make sure his mother’s ring was still there. He’d removed it from the string tie after bringing in the trunks and fashioned the black ribbon into a floppy bow under his shirt collar in anticipation of his imminent marriage. Only the ceremony hadn’t been as imminent as he’d thought, so the thing had strangled him for the last hour. But his bride was finally ready to put him out of his misery and get the deed done.
Hating to be the last one arriving at his own wedding, Travis jogged up to the back porch and entered the house through the bathing room. He paused long enough to check the straightness of his tie in the shaving mirror, then inhaled a deep breath and strode through the kitchen and down the hall to the parlor.
The parson stood at the front of the room near the woodstove, an open Bible in his hand and a welcoming smile on his lips. His brothers stood in a line in front of the sofa, while Everett and Cassandra Hayes held places near the bookcase.
The one person he didn’t see was Meredith.
Then a soft rustling from the corner behind him drew his attention. “It’s not too late to change your mind, you know.” Meredith’s husky whisper met his ears before he’d fully turned.
Short-Straw Bride Page 13
