Short-Straw Bride (28 page)

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Authors: Karen Witemeyer

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC042030, #FIC042000, #Texas--History--1846-1950--Fiction

BOOK: Short-Straw Bride
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Meredith drew in a few deep breaths and willed her mind to disregard the agony in her leg. She could rest when she got home—home to Travis.

Travis
. Meredith concentrated on her husband, on her plans to encourage his attentions, to become his wife in truth. Gripping the oak branch with both hands, she levered herself to her feet again, a groan vibrating in her throat.

They were close, maybe only a quarter mile away.
I can do this.

Ducking her head against the sleet that continued to pelt down on her head, she planted the walking stick firmly against the ground and lifted her right leg. The moment her foot came down and took her weight, however, the weakened limb gave way.

“No!” Angry tears filled her eyes as her hip collided with the earth. Why did her body have to be so feeble?

Ginger sidestepped her mistress and swung her head back around, her big brown eyes seeming to convey the truth Meredith was loath to accept.

Time to part company.

Meredith pushed up onto her good knee, blew out a heavy breath, and nodded. “All right, then. Go fetch the men, Ginger.” She swatted the paint's rump with her walking stick. “Hyah!”

The horse trotted off, still favoring her back leg.

Using her arms, Meredith dragged herself over to a nearby pine and leaned her back against the trunk. Only then did she remember the key on the chain around her neck. The Archer gate would block Ginger's path.

She closed her eyes for a moment, her mind turning heavenward.
Help Travis find me, Lord. And don't let him worry too much. Or blame himself.

The more she thought about Travis and the conversation they'd had that morning, the more Meredith's heart ached for her husband.
Don't let this accident reinforce his fears. Bring him beyond that, to the assurance that can only be found in depending wholly on you.

Exhaustion pressed upon her and kept her eyelids closed. She'd just rest for a few minutes, regain her strength. Then she'd crawl home if she had to. Travis needed her.

30

T
ravis and Neill rode in from the range, rain and sleet sliding off their hat brims and oilskin ponchos. When the house came into view, Travis nudged Bexar into an easy lope. What he wouldn't give for a hot cup of Meri's coffee right about now. If he was lucky, she might even have some of those oatmeal cookies left over. Well, if Crockett, Moses, and Josiah hadn't already finished them off.

Those three had had it easy that afternoon, working under the cover of the barn roof. Nevertheless, Meredith had most likely packed up half the kitchen for Moses in payment, including the cookies. Travis couldn't begrudge the man the treat. He and Josiah had worked as hard as any Archer over the last couple of weeks. They deserved a healthy payment.

He'd come to respect Moses's abilities, his work ethic . . . shoot, the man himself. He and Josiah were going to be missed now that the barn was finished.

Crockett must have heard their approaching horses, for he pulled wide the barn doors and allowed Travis and Neill to ride directly inside.

Josiah stepped out of a newly fashioned stall and moved forward to take charge of Bexar. Travis tossed him the reins as he dismounted, scanning the shadowy interior for Moses. He finally spotted him up in the hayloft, examining the ceiling.

“Any leaks?” Travis called out.

Moses grinned down at him, his white teeth glowing against his dark face. “No, sir.” He patted the barn wall to his left. “She's holdin' together real fine.”

“I suspected she would.” Travis strode to the ladder and met Moses on his descent. “You've done well, my friend.” He offered his hand.

Moses shook it. “Mr. Jim's the master carpenter. I just supplied some extra labor and a bit of experience.”

“More than a bit.” Travis winked at the big man, then pulled his soggy hat from his head and tried to reshape the brim. “We wouldn't have had the barn up in time for this storm without your help.”

Crockett joined them at the base of the loft. “Yep. It's going to seem strange not having you and Josiah around every day.”

“I can still meet up with Josiah on Saturdays to go fishin', can't I, Trav?” Neill's raised voice drew Travis's attention to where the boys stood rubbing down the horses. The two had become fast friends, and Travis had no intention of forcing a separation.

“Absolutely. The Jacksons are welcome here anytime.”

Neill nodded with all the cockiness of a young man coming into his own, but he couldn't quite stifle the grin that lit up his face. It was nearly as bright as the one he sported the Christmas they gave him his first rifle. Meredith had been right about the boy needing a companion his own age.

Meredith
. The urge to see her spurred him forward.

“Why don't we walk over to the house and get you some hot coffee before you head out?” Travis clapped Moses on the arm. “I'm sure Meri's got a pot warming on the stove.”

“Uh, Trav?” Crockett edged closer, his eyes uneasy. “She's not back yet.”

Travis stiffened. “Not back? You mean you let her go out in this mess?” Fear-spawned rage flared with such unexpected force, he had his brother by the collar before he even realized he'd moved. “I trusted you, Crock. If anything happens to her, I swear I'll—”

“Whoa!” Crockett brought his arms up in a sharp motion and broke Travis's hold. “She left two hours ago, before the storm hit. You're the one who gave her permission to leave as long as it wasn't raining. Don't go laying this on me.”

Travis backed away, drawing a trembling hand over his face. Crockett was right. This was his fault. He never should have let her sway him from his better judgment. He should have—

“Josiah and me will check the path by the creek,” Moses said, striding toward the barn entrance, buttoning his coat as he went. “Myra mighta sent her back that way when she saw the ice. It's shorter.”

“Neill, go with Moses,” Travis ordered, his mind racing ahead. “If you meet up with her, send up a couple shots. Crock and I will check the road.”

Neill left with the Jacksons on foot while Travis and Crockett saddled fresh mounts.

“Sorry.” Travis glanced over at his brother as he tightened the cinch. He didn't have time for a lengthy apology, but Crockett didn't seem to need one. He nodded his acceptance as he fit a bit into his horse's mouth.

“We'll find her, Trav.”

Travis planted his foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself into the saddle. “We better.”

Not waiting for his brother to finish, he set off at a canter and overtook Neill and the others before they reached the gate. The wind whistled in his ears, the wind and something that sounded vaguely like a horse's neigh.

Meri
.

When he rounded the last stand of trees, Travis spotted Ginger's distinctive chestnut-and-white patches.

“Thank God,” he breathed. But his relief lasted only a moment.

If Meri was at the gate, why couldn't he see her? It was possible she had just arrived and dismounted, but his gut told him otherwise. Travis slowed his gelding and leapt from his back before the animal came to a complete halt.

“Meri!” He called her name as he dug in his trouser pocket for the key he always kept there. “Meri!”

Travis shoved the key into the padlock. When it clicked open, he yanked the steel clasp free of the chain and tossed it into the dirt. Grabbing the middle rail of the gate, he pried it open with one hand, just far enough to squeeze himself through. He held out a calming hand to Ginger, noting the way she shied from putting weight on her left hind leg.

What happened? Had Meri been thrown? Was she even now lying hurt somewhere? Travis scanned the ground as far as he could see, cursing the trees he loved for obscuring his vision.

Turning his attention back to the horse, he captured the bridle and patted the paint's neck. Her coat was soaked. Ice crystals had accumulated in the dip of her saddle and in the dark strands of her mane. The ground had been churned into a muddy mess from her hooves.

God have mercy.
Travis staggered back a step. How long had she been out here? How long had
Meri
been out there waiting for help while his locked gate kept Ginger from alerting anyone of trouble?

Stupid! Travis fisted his hand around the pommel and leaned his forehead against the seat. Meri had warned him about the gate, told him he didn't need it anymore. But did he listen? No. He knew what was best. He knew how to protect those he loved. Idiot!

He raised his head to the sky, not caring about the sleet that stung his face. “Help me find her, Lord. I need you. Please.”

A firm hand on his shoulder brought his head around. Crockett's determined expression reignited Travis's spirit.

“Send the paint back toward the barn, then follow me with the horses.” Once again in control of his emotions, Travis handed Ginger's reins over to Crockett. “Moses,” he called to the man crouched down a few feet from him, examining hoofprints in the mud. “Help me track her.”

“Don't worry, Mr. Travis,” Moses said as he pushed to his feet. “As long as the rain don't start pourin', we oughta be able to follow her tracks good enough.”

The men advanced on foot, Crockett and Neill keeping the horses behind the rest to ensure the tracks were not obscured. Travis's focus remained glued to the ground, jumping from one hoofprint to the next as he half-jogged down the path.

“Here!” Josiah shouted from several yards ahead. “Mr. Travis. Over here. I found where the horse entered the road.”

Travis lifted his head. “You sure?” The tracks were getting harder to spot as the rain wore them down. He couldn't afford to waste time following a false lead.

“That's about where me and the boy cut through to go home,” Moses said in a low voice, assurance lending power to his words. “If she done took the shorter route, she woulda been headed here from that direction.”

Careful not to tread on any of the existing tracks, Travis raced up to Josiah's position. The markings were harder to spot among the pine needles and leaves, but when he examined them, he had to agree that they were most likely from Meri's horse.

“Good work, Josiah.” Travis braced his palms against his thighs and pushed up from his crouch. He peered into the darkness of the forest, his gut clenching. He should be feeling relief that they were getting close, but all he felt was an increasing sense of urgency.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled his wife's name into the shadows. “Meri!”

No one moved as they listened for an answer. Nothing came.

“Neill, stay here with the horses.” Travis motioned impatiently to his youngest brother. “Mark our place in case we have to retrace our steps. Moses?” He turned and pleaded with the man he'd come to trust. “Show me the way.”

With a sharp nod, Moses took off through the trees. Travis followed on his heels, scanning the surrounding trees. He called out Meri's name every dozen steps or so, his heart pleading with his ears to capture a response over the rustling of their footfalls against the leafy ground.

When it came, he nearly stumbled.

“Hush!” he ordered. The men halted abruptly, their labored breathing the only sound beyond the wind and sleet.

“Meri!” He closed his eyes and willed the response to come again.
Please, Lord. Help me hear.

A small sound carried above the wind. Soft yet distinct.

Thank you!

Travis sprinted past Moses and veered slightly to the right, something deeper than instinct guiding him. A tiny movement at the base of one of the pines caught his attention.

“Meredith.” Immediately he changed course. He'd nearly passed her by, the dark brown of her cloak blending in with her surroundings. Thank God for white petticoats. If that ruffle hadn't winked at him from near her boot tops, he might never have seen her.

Travis dropped to his knees at her side. “Meri? I'm here, darlin'. Are you hurt?” He ran his hands lightly over her arms and down her legs, assessing for breaks. Alarm surged through him when he realized how wet her skirts were. Ice particles had collected on her clothing just as they had on her horse's mane, making the fabric stiff. Her limbs must be frozen through. She didn't even react when he touched her, as if she were too numb to feel his hands.

“I'm sorry, Travis.” Her voice whispered over him, stilling his movement. He turned his face from examining her leg and watched the hood of her cape lift as she raised her chin. She was conscious. Yet her face was so pale, he feared that state wouldn't last for long. “The storm came up too fast . . . Ginger fell . . .” Meredith's eyes glazed. “I didn't want you to worry . . .”

Her chin slumped forward then, as if it required too much energy to hold up.

Travis levered his left arm beneath her legs and his right between her back and the tree trunk, pulling her tight into his chest. Close to his heart. He pushed to his feet and called to his brother.

“Crockett. The horses. I need to get her home.”

Crockett dashed through the trees, hollering Neill's name. Travis followed with his precious burden, thinking to save every second he could by shortening the distance between him and the horses. Moses and Josiah shadowed him, their worried faces offering him little comfort.

Thankfully, Neill and Crockett galloped through the trees a moment later. Crockett dismounted and held his arms out to Travis. “Let me take her while you mount. Then I'll hand her up to you.”

Travis didn't want to let her go, even for a moment, but he knew his brother was right. He gently transitioned her into Crock's arms, then mounted his gelding. Wishing he had the better-trained Bexar with him, he did his best to still the gelding with the pressure of his knees while he reached out for his wife.

“All right. I'm ready.”

As he bent to collect Meri, his horse sidestepped, agitated by the weather and all the odd happenings. Instantly, Moses appeared at the beast's head. He took the bridle with a firm hand and ordered the animal to be still.

Travis solidified his hold on Meri and drew her up onto his lap. She burrowed her hands under his oilskin in search of warmth as she secured herself to his waist. Even through his flannel shirt, her fingers felt like ice.

“Get that gal home, Mr. Travis,” Moses said as he released the bridle.

“Thank you, my friend. For everything.” Travis hugged his wife's half-frozen form to his chest and made for the ranch as fast as the storm and the extra weight on the horse's back would allow.

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