Short-Straw Bride

  Myra nodded. “Mm-hmm. Two days ago. He tol’ me you promised to bring a new one this week.”

  “That I did.” She opened her bag and pulled out her copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. “I don’t think you’ve read this one yet, Myra. It was only published a few years ago, so it wasn’t among the books my father used to loan you.”

  “Joshua might have to fight me for it, then.” The older woman winked at Meredith and tucked the book under her arm.

  Meredith laughed and followed her friend into the classroom. Myra Jackson kept the small building as tidy as herself, which was saying a lot since the woman’s apron was always starched and pressed, her black hair always combed into a perfect knot, and her dress always so pristine that dust wouldn’t dare approach its folds. Meredith reached a hand to her own hair and sighed. Freedom had more than taken its toll. No wonder the children had stared.

  Taking a minute to repair the wind’s damage, Meredith remained at the back of the class while Myra called the group to order and asked them to take out their primers. The worn books were the same ones her father had started the school with over a decade ago. They’d been well cared for, though. Unfortunately, there were never enough to go around, which was why she’d asked Travis if she could borrow Neill’s old schoolbooks.

  Taking the slender volumes from her bag, she distributed them to the adults who sat on benches at the back of the room. The surprised faces and reverent strokes of the covers warmed her heart. These parents hungered for learning even more than their children did, yet they insisted the younger generation have first access to the few books and other materials available. Such noble souls. She wished she could do more for them.

  As Myra asked one of the female students to stand and read a passage aloud, Meredith moved to the front of the room and quietly began writing a series of arithmetic problems on the blackboard.

  Despite a lack of formal training, Myra had done her best to continue where Meredith’s father had left off, teaching the local children the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic. And when Meredith mentioned to Moses her idea of teaching at the school, she’d made it clear she had no intention of supplanting Myra in any way. She only wanted to make herself available to assist.

  Myra, however, responded as if Meredith’s offer were a gift from above. The first Saturday they met, she pulled Meredith into a fierce hug and praised the Lord right there in the schoolyard. She’d been praying, she’d said, for the Lord to provide a teacher for her advanced students, someone capable of preparing them for future studies or for professions that would utilize their minds instead of breaking their backs. She dreamed of her students one day becoming teachers themselves, or shopkeepers, or even doctors. Education opened doors, and Myra was bound and determined to fling wide as many portals as possible.

  So, for the three hours Meredith spent at Myra’s school every Saturday, she taught advanced mathematics, grammar, and history to the half-dozen students who already excelled in the more elementary lessons. Joshua was particularly bright, and Meredith had high hopes of him continuing his studies at Wiley College up in Marshall. Her father would’ve been thrilled to have one of his former students attend the new school, and she couldn’t deny that she, too, would be proud to have played some minor role in the boy’s success.

  But first she needed to help him master algebra.

  Turning to face her group of students, Meredith caught Joshua’s eye as he slid into his seat after seeing to her horse. She smiled and motioned him forward. “Joshua, would you please come to the board and work the first equation?”

  “Yes, Miss Meri,” he said, matching her quiet tone so as not to disturb the rest of the class.

  And so it began. Each of the older children took turns working problems, and when not at the blackboard, they practiced on their slates. If one student made an error, another could volunteer to make the correction. Once the algebra problems had been completed, Meredith administered the oral quiz she had prepared over the Boston Tea Party. The students had only one history text between them, but they had worked out a system that allowed each person to take possession of it on a different day, and she was pleased by how much they had retained.

  The students had just started reciting their grammar lesson when the light from the doorway abruptly dimmed. Meredith glanced up to see a large man standing in the entrance.

  “Moses?” The concern in Myra’s voice sharpened Meredith’s attention.

  Why had he come? Had Josiah been hurt? Or . . . Travis? Meredith took an involuntary step closer to the aisle, her heart thumping painfully in her chest.

  “I need a word with Miss Meri.” He pointed the hat he held in his hand toward her, his gaze finally leaving his wife to settle on Meredith.

  “Finish your recitations, children,” she murmured as she took her cloak down from the nail on the side wall. “And study lessons seven and eight for next week.”

  Her students nodded but did nothing to break the unnatural hush that had fallen over the schoolroom. The quiet only amplified Meredith’s unease, and every time a floorboard squeaked as she made her way to the door, the echo frayed her nerves further. By the time she reached Moses and followed him outside, her hands were shaking.

  Moses tried to lead her a discreet distance away, but she grabbed hold of his arm, needing answers more than privacy. “Has something happened to my husband?”

  “No, ma’am.” He turned to face her, his earnest expression spearing relief through her. “Everybody be fine.”

  She exhaled a heavy breath. “Thank heavens.”

  “But there sure ’nough be trouble of some kind, ’cause Mr. Travis, he done tol’ me to fetch you right quick.”

  Meredith slipped her arms into the sleeves of her cloak and worked the fasteners. There was no question—she would return at once. Travis needed her. “Do you have any idea what the trouble is?”

  “No, Miss Meri. But it might have somethin’ to do with their visitor.”

  A visitor? Meredith jerked her attention from her buttons to the grim line of Moses’s mouth.

  “I noticed a strange horse in the corral when I come in from the barn. It weren’t wearing the Archer brand.”

  Meredith’s pulse picked up speed again. Had one of Roy’s men come to make more threats? For the first time, she realized how Travis must feel when things began spiraling out of his control. The horrible helplessness that swamped her at the thought of her family being in trouble while she was too far away to help made her ill.

  “I need my horse.” She rushed past Moses only to see Josiah leading Ginger toward her.

  Moses came up behind her and lifted her into the saddle. Meredith thanked him and kicked Ginger into a gallop. This time the wind in her hair brought no feeling of freedom, only a growing urgency as she raced home.

  24

  When Meredith rode into the yard, she scanned the barn and outbuildings for any hint of what the trouble could be, but nothing seemed out of place. None of the men were in evidence, either, which sent a frisson of alarm skittering down her back. Meredith reined Ginger to a halt in front of the house and jumped to the ground, ignoring the twinge of pain that shot up her weak leg. She tossed the lead line around the porch railing and pounded up the steps.

  “Travis?” His name echoed through the house as she threw the door wide.

  The sound of muffled voices drifted to her through the parlor wall. Meredith hurried the short distance to the entrance and nearly collided with her husband as his form filled the doorway. He looked blessedly hearty, if a bit haggard. She laid her palms upon his chest, needing the solid feel of him to reassure her that he was indeed unharmed.

  “You’re all right?” The breathless whisper escaped before her mind could stop it. The man probably thought her a nitwit. Of course he was all right. He was standing right in front of her, for goodness’ sake.

  Yet something that flashed in his eyes dissolved her chagrin. He claimed her hands in his larger ones and gave them a ge
ntle squeeze before a wail from somewhere behind him broke the spell.

  “What on earth . . . ?” Meredith tilted her head to see around her husband’s shoulder. A familiar set of blond curls peeked at her over the back of the settee. “Cassie?”

  Her cousin pushed away from a beleaguered-looking Jim, whose wet shirtfront attested to the length of time he’d offered himself as a human handkerchief, and twisted to peer at Meredith.

  “Oh, Meri. Thank the Lord you’re home.” Her reddened eyes and blotchy complexion spurred Meredith to her side. Cassie had been known to shed a strategic tear or two when trying to get her way, but Meredith had never seen her so distraught.

  Squeezing onto the settee between her cousin and the sofa arm, Meredith grasped Cassandra’s hands. “What happened?”

  Cassie’s face crumpled. “Papa’s done something awful, Meri. Truly awf-f-fullll.” The last word ended on another wail as Cassie threw herself into Meredith’s arms.

  Wrapping her cousin in a tight embrace, Meredith glanced around the room at her brothers-in-law, questioning them with her eyes.

  They all wore the same bewildered expression, offering no help whatsoever.

  “We haven’t been able to get much out of her,” Travis said softly, his hands gripping the wooden trim on the back of the settee near her shoulder. “She insisted on waiting for you.”

  “Well, I’m here now.” Meredith spoke more to Cassie than Travis. She patted her cousin’s back a final time, then gently clasped her arms and sat her up straight. “Whatever Uncle Everett has done, we will deal with it.” Meredith reached a hand to Cassie’s hair and began rearranging the disheveled curls. “Now, let’s get you presentable so you’ll feel better. You really are quite a wreck.” She smiled fondly at her cousin to take the sting from her words. Yet the delicate prick to Cassandra’s vanity sparked the exact reaction Meredith intended.

  Her cousin immediately set about putting her appearance to rights, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks, smoothing her skirts, and straightening her posture. The quick self-conscious glance she directed toward Jim as he rose from the settee didn’t go unnoticed, either. Cassie wouldn’t be falling apart again—not in front of the men, anyway.

  “I never thought Papa would steal from his own flesh and blood.” Cassie gave a little sniff. “It’s not like him at all, you know. But when Mama insisted it was the only way to save the business, he gave in.” Cassandra placed her hand atop Meredith’s, her earnest face pleading for understanding. “You must forgive him, Meri. His financial troubles are much more dire than I imagined. I’m sure he felt this was the only way.”

  “Cass, you’re making my head spin.” Meredith’s forehead crinkled as she tried to make sense of the convoluted story. “What, exactly, has he done?”

  “Before I tell you, promise me that you won’t hold it against me. I want no part of this scheme. I said as much to Papa, but Mama slapped my face for talking back and said I’d do what was right for the family, that I’d been pampered long enough, and it was time for me to do my duty.”

  “Aunt Noreen actually struck you?” The shock of it pushed Meredith back against the arm of the sofa. Her aunt had always doted on Cassandra. Meredith couldn’t even remember the woman speaking to her daughter in a harsh tone.

  “Yes.” Cassie’s chin wobbled, but she fought to keep the tears at bay. “That’s when I knew that I couldn’t cajole Papa out of the idea. There was too much at stake. My only chance to escape was to beg you to take me in.”

  “You are always welcome in my home, Cass. You know that. But you really must cease all this beating around the bush and tell me what is going on.”

  Her cousin lowered her lashes as if too ashamed to meet Meredith’s gaze. “Instead of signing over Uncle Teddy’s land to you upon your marriage, as he and Uncle Teddy arranged, Papa plans to use it as a dowry. For me.”

  “He’s stealing my land?” Meredith could barely get the words out, so deflated was she by the revelation. “The home I grew up in?”

  A warm hand settled on her shoulder and stroked the skin at her neck. Travis. His quiet support kept her from shattering. But she couldn’t look at him. What would he think? That land was the only thing of value she’d brought to their marriage. She’d hoped to pass it down to their children one day, just as his father had passed down the Archer ranch to him and his brothers. Her dowry had just been stolen from him to be given to another.

  To Cassie.

  Meredith stiffened. The only reason Uncle Everett would use the land as a dowry for Cassandra would be to entice a prosperous suitor into making an offer. A man who would value the land.

  Meredith’s stomach lurched. She prayed her intuition was wrong. “Who do they expect you to marry?”

  Cassie finally looked up, her eyes twin pools of sorrow. “Roy Mitchell.”

  Tension speared through Meredith’s shoulders beneath Travis’s fingers. He tried to massage some of it away, but his own muscles had bunched so tight, he doubted it was very effective.

  How could Everett Hayes be such a weak-livered dunce? What little respect Travis held for the man due to his relationship with Meri evaporated. Even if Hayes was fool enough to believe Mitchell innocent of the attack on Travis’s barn, he should have enough qualms to prevent him from handing over the daughter he claimed to love simply to boost his deteriorating business.

  He glanced at each of his brothers, all of them wearing the same stony-eyed expression, and made his intention clear by moving to stand directly between the backs of the two women sitting on the settee. Travis slid his hands along the wooden trim of the sofa until his spread arms encompassed them both. Meredith loved Cassandra like a sister. That made her family. Archers protected family.

  Crockett, Neill, and Jim all met his stare and gave their nod of assent. Jim held Travis’s gaze the longest and took a deliberate step closer to their visitor as he clenched his jaw in determination. His meaning was clear. Jim had just staked a claim. And made himself responsible for Cassandra’s welfare.

  “You can’t go along with it, Cass.” Meredith shoved up out of her seat and started pacing, her uneven gait agitated and unsteady as she crossed the rug. Travis moved farther into the room, wishing he could spare her this latest betrayal.

  Cassandra shifted to the edge of the settee. “I know. That’s why I came here. You were obviously right about Mr. Mitchell. He must have only been after your land if the bride accompanying it makes so little difference to him. I can’t marry someone who cares nothing for me.”

  “It’s worse than that.” Meredith spun to face her cousin. “He’s dangerous. Or did you forget about him sending men to set fire to the Archers’ barn?”

  The younger woman tilted her chin at a quizzical angle as she slowly rose to her feet. “Papa assured me that was a misunderstanding. That it was one of Roy’s competitors who set the fire.”

  “I heard him give the order, Cassie. There was no misunderstanding.” Meredith crossed her arms over her chest. Instead of lending her a look of determination, however, the movement gave her an air of vulnerability, as if she strove to protect herself from another family member’s disbelief.

  “Papa wouldn’t lie to me. I’m sure of it.”

  Travis strode to Meredith’s side, the instinct to protect her driving him forward. His jaw tensed as he glowered at the young woman before him. “Your papa wants to believe in Mitchell’s innocence because he needs the man’s partnership.” His words came out clipped and impatient even to his own ears. Little Cassie would just have to deal with it, though. He couldn’t stomach another Hayes gainsaying Meri in order to make excuses for the man who destroyed his property and plotted to steal his land. “Money clouded his judgment, and he accepted the word of a stranger over family.”

  “Isn’t there the slightest chance you misheard, Meri?” Doubt clouded the girl’s features as she scrambled to keep her doting father from sliding farther off his pedestal.

  “No,” Meredith answered, her voice
rich with compassion. “I’m sure of what I heard. But even if there was a chance, would you be willing to risk your future happiness on such short odds?”

  Cassandra bit her lower lip and shook her head. Meredith rushed to her side and wrapped her arms around her.

  “What am I going to do?”

  Meredith smiled that brave smile of hers that always made Travis’s chest puff with pride. “We’ll think of something. For now, though, you’re going to come to the kitchen and help me make supper.”

  “You know I can’t cook.”

  Meredith tucked her cousin under her arm like a mother hen with a chick and led her toward the door. “Well, it’s about time you learned, don’t you think?”

  Meredith twisted her neck to meet Travis’s gaze before she swept out of the room. He felt her thanks without her having to say a word, and the fact that he could read her looks as well as those of his brothers made him pause. She was becoming part of him.

  Once the women’s voices receded, Travis turned back to face his brothers. They all gravitated toward the center of the room.

  “What’s the plan, Trav?” Neill asked.

  “She ain’t marrying Mitchell.” Jim glared at Travis, daring him to argue.

  Travis clapped him on the shoulder. “Cassandra will stay here under our protection until we decide what needs to be done. In the meantime, it might be a good idea—”

  A pair of shots echoed in the distance, cutting Travis off. He instinctively looked to the window. Cassandra’s father had made good time.

  “Have you noticed that we’ve had more visitors in the last few weeks than we had all of last year? Maybe we should consider opening a hotel.” Crockett’s sarcasm earned him a punch in the arm from Jim.

  Travis bit back a reply. He couldn’t deny that things had started spiraling further and further out of control ever since Meredith showed up on their ranch, but even with all the trouble, he didn’t regret her appearance. How could he? She was family.