Short-Straw Bride

by Karen Witemeyer

  Travis’s eyes widened. “Tonight? That can’t be more than a couple hours from now.”

  “I found that pretty suspicious, too.” Meredith pushed her arms through the sleeves of her husband’s coat and crossed them over her belly. “I told Mr. Wheeler that when I saw Cassie yesterday morning, she’d had no intention of wedding Mr. Mitchell. He just smiled and said she’d changed her mind.”

  Meredith searched Travis’s face for some clue as to what he was thinking, but his stoic mask gave nothing away. She’d expected outrage or a promise to mount a rescue effort or something. Yet all he did was scowl and stare into the empty space between her and the corral.

  “We are going to help her, right?” Meredith tried to claim Travis’s gaze by searching out his eyes. “I know Cass. She’d never willingly marry that man. Roy must be threatening or manipulating her somehow.”

  “Of course he’s manipulating,” Travis growled. “And not only your cousin. He’s attempting to manipulate me, as well. Which is why we can’t rush off without thinking things through.”

  Travis twisted his neck back toward the woods. Only then did Meredith hear the sound of riders coming in.

  “Mitchell needs both our properties to solidify things with his investors,” Travis said, turning back to her. “If we play into his hand, we risk giving him exactly what he wants. We need time to figure out what game he’s playing before we can hope to beat him at it.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll talk about it more when the boys get here.”

  Travis strode away from her to signal his brothers, and Meredith couldn’t help but feel a little abandoned. Her mind insisted that anticipating Roy’s machinations was the wise course, but her heart wanted a take-charge hero ready to ride to the rescue.

  Forty-five minutes later, all the Archers stood in the center of the barn, still arguing over the best plan of action.

  “What if you’re wrong, Travis? I won’t take that risk.” Jim refused to back down, and Meredith, for one, was glad.

  “We don’t even know for sure that Mitchell has her,” Travis insisted. “More likely it’s a ploy to lure us away and leave the ranch open to attack. Only this time, they’ll raze everything, not just the barn. It’s the only hope he has of driving us off the land. Either that or he has an army of men waiting to ambush us at the cabin. Dead men can’t protest an illegal sale, after all.”

  Crockett pushed away from the post he’d been slouching against. “You did say Cassie was fine when you left her this morning. Right, Jim? Wheeler arrived barely an hour after you did. Mitchell would’ve had to abduct Cassie and her family, find a minister willing to perform a forced ceremony, and set out for Meredith’s cabin in that same time frame. I find it hard to believe that he could pull that off in under an hour with no advance warning.”

  “He could if he had help.” All eyes turned to Meredith. “You forget that Jim saw my aunt leaving the house before he left. She wants this union. She believes it’s her family’s financial salvation. In her eyes, Roy Mitchell is a saint. I imagine she went directly to his office this morning and probably even aided the man in kidnapping her daughter.”

  Jim stalked up to Travis and growled in his ear. “If Mitchell had Meredith, you’d go after her. You know you would.”

  She could tell by the way the two eyed each other in challenge, that Jim’s statement hadn’t been intended for her ears, but she couldn’t stop herself from hoping it would be persuasive. Cassie was in peril. It was time to send in the cavalry.

  Jim finally stepped away and let Travis mull over all that’d been said. The quiet ate away at Meredith, but she held her tongue, praying that the Lord would give her husband the wisdom necessary to make the right decision.

  “Before Pa died, he made me swear to protect our family and our land. I won’t leave the ranch unguarded or let the three of you walk into an ambush without proof that Cassie is truly in danger.”

  Jim made to protest, but Travis stopped him with a look. And in that moment, something shriveled inside Meredith. The land always came first with Travis. The land and his brothers.

  “However,” Travis continued, “I agree that we cannot risk Cassie’s life, either.”

  Meredith inhaled a shaky breath. Please, Travis. Please let us help her.

  “Therefore, I think the best course of action is to let Jim scout out the cabin. The rest of us will stay here in case Mitchell attacks. One man will be harder to spot, but you’ll also have no one to watch your back.”

  Jim nodded, obviously eager to take on the task despite the risk.

  “Once Jim determines if Cassandra is in fact at the cabin, he’ll return and alert us to the situation—how many men Mitchell has, where they’re holding her, and so forth. If she’s there, we’ll go after her. If not, we’ll stay here and elude Mitchell’s trap.”

  It wasn’t exactly the cavalry charge she’d been hoping for, but at least it left the door open for a later one.

  “I can go with Jim,” Meredith volunteered. “I know the property. I can show him the best way to get close to the cabin without being seen.”

  Jim seemed to be considering her offer until Travis glared the consideration right out of him.

  “Not a chance.” He turned his glare on her. “If Mitchell got his hands on you, there’s no telling what he would do. At the very least he’d use you to get to me. We can’t afford that.”

  “Because it would put your precious land in jeopardy, wouldn’t it?” Hot tears threatened to fall, but she forced them back. Any affection he felt for her ran a distant second to his loyalty to the ranch. She’d been a fool to think there could ever be more. “The land always comes first. Doesn’t it, Travis?”

  Unable to hold the tears at bay any longer, she sprinted past him, her only thought to escape. She headed for the house, but before she reached the porch, strong arms latched onto her from behind and spun her around.

  Meredith tried to pull away, but when she saw the pained look in his eyes, she ceased. Even with his callous, overly rational behavior, she loved him too much to hurt him.

  “Meri, honey. I know you’re worried about Cassie. I am, too.” Travis’s face hovered above hers, his dark eyes sincere. “But I’m also worried about Jim and Crockett and Neill. We have to take precautions.”

  She said nothing.

  He sighed and loosened his hold on her arms in order to cup her face. His thumbs stroked her cheeks, rubbing away the moisture there with such tenderness it almost set her to weeping again.

  “I can’t let you go with Jim. It’s too dangerous. If something happened to you, I . . .” He glanced up to the sky. His fingers trembled slightly against her face.

  Meredith trembled, too. Waiting. I couldn’t bear it, she imagined him saying. Or . . . I would be devastated. How she longed to hear words that would prove her wrong, to prove that his heart was truly engaged.

  Travis’s eyes lowered to meet hers. She held her breath.

  “If something happened to you, Meri, I’d never forgive myself.”

  Meredith exhaled, and her hopes leaked out with the used air. He still saw her as a responsibility, a duty. Perhaps a pleasant one, but a duty nonetheless.

  “I need to know you’re safe,” he continued, passion firing his words. “I’d give my life to keep you safe.”

  “I know you would,” she said, a sad smile turning her lips upward. Her warrior. So protective. So honorable. He’d no doubt feel the same ardor for anyone under his care.

  Placing her hands on his shoulders, she lifted up and touched her lips to his. Just for a moment. A sweet, achingly wistful moment.

  Then she stepped away. “I’ll be in the house.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  As Meredith climbed the porch steps, she knew what she had to do. Travis wasn’t the only warrior in the family. No, she had her own protective agenda. Cassie was more a sister to her than a cousin, and though she couldn’t explain how she knew, Meredith was certain that
Roy had not been bluffing about the wedding.

  Cassie needed her. And right now that need outweighed everything else.

  35

  Meredith watched at the kitchen window until Travis disappeared into the depths of the barn to continue plotting with his brothers. When she could no longer see him, she snuck out the back door and crept down to the corral. Clicking her tongue, she called to Ginger and eased the corral gate open just enough to squeeze the horse through. Darting glances back toward the barn entrance every few seconds, Meredith led her paint around the house and into the woods.

  A saddle was out of the question. Too many Archer men around the tack room. She used to love to ride bareback around the homestead as a kid. Surely she could still manage the feat. Meredith found a stump and used it as a mounting block, then urged Ginger toward the road at a fast clip, keeping to the trees.

  She didn’t have much time. She had to get back to the house before Travis did. If he discovered her missing, the men would divert their attention from defending the ranch to finding her—which could mean Jim would be delayed in going after Cassie. No, it was essential that she be back at the house when Travis came in from the barn. Then, once he and the boys took up positions around the property, she could duck out the back, wind her way down to the creek, and follow it up to the road. She’d have to climb through the barbed-wire fence, but an extra blanket tossed over the barbs to keep her skirts from snagging should help her squeeze between the wires.

  It was a sketchy plan, but it was the best she had at the moment.

  Meredith steered Ginger out of the trees in order to pass through the newly ungated ranch entrance, then cantered a few strides down the road before dismounting. She led the mare back into the trees and tied her lead to one of the fence posts marking the property line. An observant rider would be able to spot Ginger’s white patches through the sparse cover, but she imagined Jim would be too focused on his destination to look back toward the ranch.

  Grateful that the house was only a quarter mile from the road, Meredith picked up her skirts and retraced her steps at a jog. A stitch in her side slowed her down about fifty yards from the house. Pressing a hand to her waist to battle the ache radiating there, she walked the remaining distance, stretching her stride as wide as possible.

  If Travis was his usual, incredibly thorough self, she might be fortunate enough to return to the house before the men emerged from the barn. She doubted he would release them until they’d considered every eventuality and gone over their respective duties at least twice. However, Jim would be hard to corral for long, so she couldn’t count on more than fifteen minutes. And she was pretty sure she’d already used at least ten.

  The house finally came into view—along with the men. They all stood gathered around a mounted Jim. Their hats were off and their heads were bowed. Her conscience twinged at the sight of the Archer brothers taking the time to pray over their brother’s safety and the situation at large, but she ignored it for the moment and took advantage of their inward focus and closed eyes to dash around the rear of the house unseen.

  Once inside, she breathed a sigh of relief, or would have if her corset-laced lungs hadn’t already been panting from her brief trot through the woods. Meredith strode through the bathing room and immediately grabbed the half loaf of bread left from lunch and began slicing it into thick pieces. The easiest way to disguise her intentions was to have Travis find her where he expected—in the kitchen. The vegetable soup she’d originally thought to prepare for supper would have to wait for another day, but she could throw together some scrambled egg sandwiches for the men to take with them on guard duty.

  She had just cracked the seventh egg into the skillet when the front door opened. Heavy footfalls echoed in the hall. Meredith whisked the eggs frantically with her fork, then moved the skillet directly over the firebox to speed the cooking, hoping that Travis would attribute the perspiration on her forehead to the stove’s heat and not comment upon it.

  “Jim’s on his way, Meri.” Travis’s quiet voice carried over the sizzle of the frying pan.

  Meredith kept her back to him as she stirred the eggs, afraid Travis might somehow discern her subterfuge in the lines of her face. “I’ll have these done in just a minute. You and the boys can take sandwiches with you.”

  He made no comment, but she could sense him nearing.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have these ready before Jim left. He’s going to be hungry.”

  Strong hands cupped her shoulders. “He’ll be fine.”

  His touch felt good. Too good. Meredith stepped out of his loose hold and started heaping eggs onto the bread slices she’d set out. Head down, she built the sandwiches, trying to ignore her husband’s presence. Which, of course, was impossible. She’d never been more attuned to another human being in her life.

  “Meri, stop.”

  Her hands stilled as she wrapped a napkin around the third and final sandwich.

  “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  Slowly she turned. His light brown eyes shone with a depth of emotion that made her heart pound.

  “I swear to you, Meri—the minute Jim confirms that Cassie is at the homestead, we’ll all ride out like the devil himself is on our heels. We won’t leave her to face Mitchell alone.”

  He meant every word. She could see it in his face, hear it in his voice. But another voice echoed in her mind, as well—one asking what would happen to Cassie if Jim failed to return. How long would Travis wait before leading the charge?

  Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She didn’t want to defy her husband. Truly she didn’t. It could destroy the trust between them, destroy the chance of love ever taking root in his heart. But she had no choice. She couldn’t sit uselessly in the house under Travis’s protection when her knowledge of the homestead could mean the difference between success and failure for both Jim and Cassie.

  And with Jim’s head start, the longer Travis stayed in the kitchen, the less time she’d have to make that difference.

  In a desperate grab at the happiness that seemed to be slipping from her grasp, Meredith seized her husband’s face between both her hands and kissed him with all the love she’d stored up for him since she was ten years old. It only took a moment for Travis to recover from his shock and respond with equal fervor. Yet when she felt his arms wrap around her back and start to draw her close, she forced herself to tear away.

  “Here,” she said, shoving the sandwiches at him as much to hurry him along as to keep herself from walking back into his arms. “Make sure your brothers eat.”

  Then, before he could say anything else, she dodged around him and dashed down the hall to her room. Thumping the door closed behind her, she sagged against the wall and brushed a stray tear from her cheek while she waited for the telltale sound of Travis’s boots against the floorboards.

  They came down the hall and paused. Meredith squeezed her eyes closed. Just go, Travis. Please.

  After a long moment, the sound began again, this time fading as Travis crossed to the front door and finally exited onto the porch. His deep voice carried through the walls as he called to Crockett and Neill.

  Regret ate at Meredith, and second thoughts flashed through her mind. Then a picture of Jim crystallized behind her closed lids—a picture of him falling to the ground, as still as death. Her eyes jerked open, and her throat closed on a gasp. He was in as much danger as Cassie, heading alone into what was sure to be a den of vipers. She might not be able to bring the cavalry, but she could at least supply him with enough inside information to help even the odds a bit.

  And she could watch his back.

  Meredith grabbed her cape from the wardrobe and moved to the window. Lord, keep him safe until I can catch up. Direct my steps and give me the courage to do what must be done. Guard Cassie and . . . She paused and shifted the curtain just enough to peer out into the yard, where her husband and his brothers were dispersing to their assigned positions. Help Travis forgive me.

&
nbsp; She released the curtain and turned to leave the room, but when she passed the bureau, she remembered the small tablet of paper Travis kept in the top drawer along with his watch and other odds and ends. After digging out a stubby pencil, she scribbled the few words her raw heart demanded she say, then grabbed an old blanket from the chest and hurried through the house to the back door.

  Once outside, she made for the creek without a single backward glance. Regrets were a luxury she could no longer afford.

  36

  The old game trail was still where she remembered it being. Meredith urged Ginger off the road a couple hundred yards short of the main entrance. The path was almost imperceptible, completely overgrown with brush, but Ginger obediently followed her mistress’s silent instruction and plowed through the oak saplings.

  Meredith followed the landmarks she recognized more than the path itself, and when she reached the pine she’d long ago dubbed The Survivor, she drew Ginger to a halt. Not long after her accident with the trap, lightning had struck the tall, elegant tree. Half of the tree turned brown and brittle, too damaged to support life, but the other half remained green and healthy, flourishing with a will to overcome the adversity thrust upon it. Meredith stared up into the glorious green boughs on the east side and absorbed the hope they had always offered.

  As a young girl, the tree had encouraged her to persevere and not let her own injured limb hold her back. Today, though, it inspired strength and fortitude. Meredith breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of the pine and allowing it to solidify her purpose. Time to find Jim.

  If Jim had followed the usual Archer strategy of shadowing the road, he should be somewhere in the pines to her right. She’d made up some time by taking the game trail, but there was still no way to guess his precise location. If only there were a way to signal . . . The birdcalls! Neill had been teaching her the distinctive Archer call before the last storm hit. She’d not yet perfected the warble, but she could match the swooping pitch fairly well.