Page 3 of Short-Straw Bride


  “He’s back from the Archer spread already? That doesn’t bode well.”

  The Archer spread? As in Travis Archer? Meredith strained to hear more, but Roy’s voice faded as he walked deeper into the alley.

  Meredith ambled down to the far end of the display window, careful to keep her eyes on the hats while diverting all her focus to her ears. A wagon rolled past, harness jangling and horse hooves clomping, making her want to scream in frustration as the men’s words got lost in the din. Giving up on the hats, Meredith moved to the building’s corner and pressed her shoulder against the brick, getting as close as she dared without being seen. Thankfully, the noisy wagon turned down an adjacent street, and she could finally catch pieces of the conversation again.

  “. . . can’t be convinced to sell?”

  “Wheeler offered him twice what the property’s worth . . . man threatened to shoot . . . ain’t selling, boss.”

  “. . . connects the northern properties to the railroad. . . . my investors will pull out. I have to . . . one way or another.”

  “I thought . . . Hayes spread, too.”

  “That’s in the bag. You . . . that crippled gal was hanging on to me. I’ll have my . . . deed before the month is out. No, Archer . . . only serious obstacle.”

  Meredith sucked in an outraged breath. Crippled gal? Of all the nerve. If he thought he was going to get his greedy hands on her father’s legacy that easily, he couldn’t be more wrong. Why, she had half a mind to—

  “. . . issue my threat?”

  Threat? What threat? Meredith shoved aside her indignation and fixed her attention back on the men in the alley.

  “Yep. Wheeler warned . . . didn’t sell there’d be consequences.”

  “Good. Burn . . . . tonight. Target the barn. Then . . . offer half the previous price to take . . . off their hands.”

  Meredith gasped. Roy had just ordered an act of arson with the same nonchalance as he’d ordered their beefsteak at the hotel.

  God had given her a sign, all right, and it clearly read Stay Out!

  But what about Travis? Fires could be deadly. She had to do something to help him.

  One set of footsteps echoed in retreat while a second grew louder. Meredith lunged awkwardly back to the window, her pulse throbbing.

  “Have you decided which you like best?” Roy came up beside her, once again the solicitous gentleman. Revulsion crept over her, but Meredith forced herself not to shy away.

  She wanted to spit on him or slap him or shove him off the boardwalk and into the mud where he belonged, but she couldn’t do any of those things without tipping him off that she had overheard his plans. So she smiled instead, vowing to beat him at his own game.

  “I’m leaning toward the blue one with the flowers. What do you think of it?”

  “I think it would look lovely on you. But then, you have a way of making everything lovely.” He smiled and lifted a finger to stroke her cheek.

  Meredith’s stomach roiled.

  “Oh dear.” She quickly covered her mouth with one hand and her stomach with the other, thanking God for the excuse to cut their time together short. “I think something from lunch may not be agreeing with me.” That something being Roy Mitchell.

  An impatient frown darkened Roy’s face before he quickly replaced it with a look of concern. “Would you like to sit and rest for a moment? There’s a bench outside the drugstore across the street.”

  “No. I think I should lie down.” She hunched herself over and added a quiet moan for good measure. “Can you take me home, please?”

  “Are you sure?”

  Meredith nodded vigorously, keeping her hand over her mouth.

  “Very well.”

  Roy took her arm and helped her navigate the three blocks back to her uncle’s house. When they reached the front gate, however, he used his grip to slow her to a halt.

  “I’m so sorry to have ruined our afternoon,” she blurted, not wanting to give him the chance to ask her anything. Besides, the longer she thought about what he planned for Travis, the more ill she truly became. She looked up at the brick house, longing for the escape it promised.

  “Meredith, darling,” Roy said, turning her to face him, “please, just tell me that I can move ahead with our wedding plans.”

  The idea was so nauseating, Meredith didn’t have to prevaricate. Her stomach began to heave all on its own. Roy must have seen the truth in her face as she bent forward, for his eyes widened and he quickly stepped back. Meredith covered her mouth and ran for the house.

  “I’ll come by later this evening,” Roy called after her, but Meredith didn’t slow until she was safely inside.

  The kitchen stood empty, so Meredith made her way to the sink pump, hoping that a glass of cool water would help settle her stomach. She needed to calm her body so her mind could focus on how to help Travis. If Roy’s henchmen planned to strike tonight, that left her precious little time to strategize. The Archer ranch was a good two and a half hours’ ride to the north. A well-conditioned horse could possibly shave thirty minutes off that time, but that still left her less than an hour to implement a course of action.

  “Mercy me, Miss Meri. You look like someone done wrung you out and hung you up to dry. You all right?” Eliza, the cook Meredith’s aunt employed, strode into the room cradling a selection of carrots, onions, and potatoes in her upturned apron.

  Meredith managed a wan smile. “I’m not feeling well, I’m afraid. Is Uncle Everett back from Neches yet? I need to speak with him.”

  Not for the first time, Meredith longed for her own father’s counsel instead of her uncle’s. She missed the days of occasionally riding beside him in the buggy out to the freedmen’s school he continued to run even after the Freedmen’s Bureau shut down—missed the talks they had, the dreams they shared.

  Papa would’ve known what to do about Roy and Travis. But Papa was gone.

  Eliza dropped the vegetables into a wash pan with a cascade of thumps, then shook her apron out over the dry sink. “Master Hayes told me not to expect him till suppertime.”

  Meredith’s shoulders sagged. Suppertime would be too late.

  “Miss Meri, you better go up to bed and rest some. You’re looking right peak-ed.”

  “I don’t need—” Meredith stopped herself as she recalled Roy’s promise to return. “Well, maybe I will.” She’d not want to face her aunt, either. “In fact, with my stomach as unsettled as it is, I’ll probably forgo dinner tonight. Would you mind asking Aunt Noreen not to wake me?”

  “Of course, child. You go rest.”

  Why was it when Aunt Noreen called her a child she felt degraded, but when Eliza did it, she felt nurtured? Meredith set her half-empty glass on the table, the churning in her abdomen finally beginning to subside.

  “And in case ya get hungry later,” Eliza said, pointing to the cookstove, “I’ll leave some of my stew broth on the warmer. You just sneak on down here and help yourself. Ya hear?”

  Meredith smiled and, on impulse, hugged the older woman. Eliza flapped her hands and shooed her away, embarrassed by the display of affection. “Go on with ya, now.”

  Meredith climbed the stairs and closed herself in her room. At least Aunt Noreen would not be home to pester her. She and Cassandra always paid their social calls on Tuesday afternoons. Usually Meredith accompanied them, but Roy’s luncheon invitation had taken precedence over the weekly torture of censorious glances and nose sniffing that Aunt Noreen and her friends enjoyed while expounding their ponderous opinions. Unfortunately, that meant Meredith wouldn’t be able to confide in Cassandra, either. That left only one person she could think of who might be willing and able to help her.

  Changing out of her fancy polonaise, Meredith pulled a more practical dress out of her wardrobe and buttoned herself up into her favorite dark green calico. Just in case anyone should look in on her, she lumped an extra quilt under her covers to make it appear she was sleeping, then tiptoed down the stairs and slipped quietl
y out the back door.

  Meredith chose an indirect route to Courthouse Square, studiously avoiding any avenues where her aunt might be visiting. She hurried down Market Street until she reached the jail, then circled around to the north and entered the sheriff’s office.

  The man lounging behind the desk bolted upright, dropping his booted feet from the corner of the desktop to the floor. He braced his palms on the arms of his chair to boost himself up until his eyes met hers. Then he promptly slouched right back into his negligent pose.

  “Well, if it ain’t Meri Hayes. Come to ask me to the church social?”

  Hiram Ellis. Of all the rotten luck. The fellow was just as obnoxious grown as he’d been as a kid.

  “I’m looking for Sheriff Randall.” Meredith ignored Hiram’s cocky smirk and glanced around the office as if he were beneath her notice. “Do you know where I might find him?”

  “Still as contrary as ever, I see.” Hiram slowly rose to his feet, puffing out his chest as if to emphasize the deputy’s star pinned to his coat. “The sheriff’s transportin’ a prisoner over to Rusk County to stand trial, so it looks like you’re stuck with me, darlin’.”

  Could this day get any worse? Hiram Ellis was the last person she’d trust with her troubles. But then, they weren’t her troubles. Travis Archer and his brothers were the ones in danger. A spark and an unruly gust of wind could easily set their home ablaze, killing them in their beds.

  Meredith gritted her teeth. If Hiram was her only choice, so be it.

  “I overheard a threatening conversation today.” Reluctant to reveal Roy’s part in the scheme due to his connection with her uncle’s business, she kept the account as anonymous as possible. “Two men were discussing Travis Archer’s land and how he refused to sell. One man ordered the other to set the Archers’ barn on fire in an effort to convince him to reconsider.”

  Hiram leaned a hip against the edge of the desk. “So what do you want me to do about it? It ain’t no crime to run off at the mouth. You probably didn’t hear them right anyhow. How close were you to these two fellers?”

  “Around the corner,” Meredith admitted, “but I heard them clearly enough. And I can assure you, this was no idle talk. It was menacing and authoritative. You have to ride out to the Archers’ place and keep this terrible thing from happening. At the very least, warn Mr. Archer that trouble is headed his way.”

  Hiram shook his head. “I ain’t riding all the way out there on the say-so of some woman who can’t be sure of what she heard. You always were the kind to get all worked up about one thing or another for no good reason. Besides, I gotta stay here and protect the good citizens of Palestine while the sheriff’s gone. We can talk to Archer when Randall gets back.”

  “By then it will be too late!”

  Hiram just shrugged. “I’ll make a note in the log book that you came by to make a report. That’s the best I can do.”

  Of all the lazy, arrogant, self-aggrandizing men she’d ever had the misfortune to meet, Hiram Ellis sat at the top of the list.

  As Meredith marched out of the sheriff’s office, one thing became exceedingly clear. If there was to be any hope of getting a warning to Travis Archer in time, she was going to have to deliver it herself.

  3

  A half hour later, Meredith penned a note to her cousin.

  Cass,

  I need your help. Roy Mitchell is not the gentleman he pretends to be. With my own ears, I heard him order the burning of Travis Archer’s barn because the man refused to sell his land. Thankfully, Roy doesn’t know I overheard him. However, he’s planning to call tonight, and I need you to tell him I am feeling poorly and have retired early, since I’ll be on my way to warn Travis.

  Tomorrow you can tell Uncle Everett that I decided to visit the old homestead, for that is what I plan to do right after stopping by the Archer place. I will stay out there a few days, cleaning and preparing the house for winter, and return to town by the end of the week.

  I’m sorry to put you in an awkward spot, but Roy’s men are headed to the Archer place tonight, so there’s no time to delay. I know you’ll understand.

  She signed her name at the bottom, knowing Cassandra would cover for her. There was no one she trusted more. Yet when she returned, nothing would be the same. Rejecting Roy’s proposal meant sabotaging the Hayes family business. Her aunt would resent her more than she already did, and Uncle Everett’s disappointment would be hard to bear. Perhaps it was a good thing she was spending a few days at the old house. She might very well be taking up residence there again soon.

  With a sigh, Meredith folded the ivory paper and walked down the hall to her cousin’s room. She tucked the note into the basket that held Cassandra’s hair ribbons, a place where her cousin would be sure to find it but one that would make the note inconspicuous to others. Then she retrieved the small leather valise she’d packed with a spare dress, sleeping gown, and necessary toiletries and slipped out the back to where she’d tied her horse.

  The man on duty at the livery where she boarded Ginger had been kind enough to saddle the animal for her, and Meredith had already tucked a few days’ provisions into the saddlebags, so all she had left to do now was mount up and go. Yet as she gazed back at the redbrick building that had been her home since losing her parents, an odd reluctance filled her. It was almost as if she were saying good-bye.

  But then the image of a young man with sun-kissed brown hair and compassionate eyes lured her back to her mission. She would find a way to warn Travis Archer and deal with the repercussions later. She owed him that much.

  The sun had started to streak the sky orange by the time Meredith reached the turnoff to Travis’s property. Losing light and warmth in the shadows of the trees, she shivered beneath her cloak as she urged Ginger from the main road onto the little-used path that wound through the Archer pines.

  Several yards in, a wooden gate rose from the brush to bar her way. Two hand-painted signs nailed to the top slat of the gate glared up at her. The one on the left read Trespassers will be shot on sight. And the second wasn’t much friendlier. To conduct business, fire two shots and wait.

  The Archers certainly weren’t long on hospitality, but what really concerned her was the padlock that held the gate secure. With barbed wire stretching out on either side as far as she could see, it would be impossible to get Ginger through. And with no gun, she had no way to summon any of the Archers to her position.

  For the first time since she’d left Palestine, urgency gave way to uncertainty. She’d known Travis and his brothers were reclusive, but by the look of things, they were downright hostile when it came to outsiders. They obviously wanted no news or visits from the outside world.

  But they had no idea of the menace waiting to strike.

  Meredith inhaled a deliberate breath and dismounted. She’d come this far. She might as well see it through. With trembling hands, she secured Ginger’s reins around the gate post and stroked the mare’s neck.

  “I’ll be back soon. I’m just going to deliver a message. It won’t take long. You’ll be fine.”

  Ginger reached her head down to nibble at some grass, apparently unperturbed at the prospect of being left alone. But as Meredith hiked up her skirt and wedged her left foot onto the bottom slat of the gate, the confidence she’d projected into that little speech evaporated.

  She scaled the gate quickly and paused at the top to swing her leg over. Closing her eyes for a moment, she straddled the gate and whispered a quick prayer.

  “Please don’t let them shoot me.”

  Then before she could talk herself out of it, she scrambled down the far side and started walking.

  The last time she’d trespassed on Archer land, she’d ended up with a broken leg and a nasty scar. Last time she’d had an excuse, and there’d been no fences. This time she didn’t have the innocence of childhood to protect her. Was Travis still the kindhearted man she remembered, the one who hid his tender side behind a harsh reputation and
a wall of secrecy, or had he hardened into the unyielding, coldhearted man people thought him to be?

  Meredith shoved that last thought aside. She refused to believe it. She’d seen his heart that day. Travis might put up a ruthless front, but gentleness was too ingrained in his character to disappear over time.

  But just to be safe, she walked with her arms angled away from her sides, palms facing forward, to present herself in as unthreatening a manner as possible. No point in putting her theory to the test if she didn’t have to.

  The smell of woodsmoke tickled her nose, and Meredith’s heart skittered. The house must be close. An odd-sounding birdcall echoed somewhere in the distance off to her left. Her head swiveled in that direction. Then another bird answered from up ahead of her to the right. A chill passed over her. In all her years in Anderson County, she’d never heard a bird that sounded quite like those surrounding her. Then again, she’d been in town for quite some time. Perhaps she’d forgotten.

  The trees began to thin, and Meredith spotted a clearing ahead. She picked up her pace, anxious to have her errand over and done. But before she took more than a dozen steps, four men emerged from the woods and surrounded her, each pointing a rifle directly at her chest.

  What in blue blazes was a woman doing waltzing onto Archer land at the brink of dark?

  From his vantage point behind her, Travis couldn’t see much of her face, so he had no way of judging her intelligence. But anyone crazy enough to come onto Archer land without an invitation was sure to be unpredictable, and he wasn’t taking any chances.

  The woman kept her hands a healthy distance from her sides, and he could see her fingers quivering. Yet despite her obvious nervousness, she stared at each of his brothers in turn and even twisted around to examine Neill and finally . . .

  Travis raised his head from sighting down the rifle as shock radiated through him. Those eyes. Such a vivid blue. It was as if he’d seen them before. But that was impossible. Females didn’t exactly pay them calls on a regular basis.