Page 24 of Short-Straw Bride

“Samson, right?”

He nodded, and she smiled like a pupil trying to impress her teacher. “You told me when I awakened a while ago.”

“And four times before that.” A true grin split his face. She was getting better. “I’m glad it finally sank in.”

Her brows knit in bewilderment. “Four times? How long have I been . . .” She glanced down at the bed, as if only then recognizing the significance of where she was, and slid down on the pillows until the blankets came up to her chin.

So much for bypassing the awkwardness.

“It’s nearly suppertime. I’ll have Jim bring you some broth if you think you can manage eating.”

“Suppertime?” she squeaked. “I was here all night and all day?”

“And you probably won’t be leaving anytime soon.” Judging by her horrified look, the prospect didn’t exactly thrill her. Well, being chained to a sickroom when he had work to do wasn’t his first choice, either. If he could deal with it, she sure as shootin’ could, too.

“Look, Meredith. We have no choice in the matter. That lump on the side of your head ain’t there for decoration. You’re seriously hurt. Crockett knows what he’s talking about when it comes to things like this, and he insists that you not leave until you’ve recovered to the point that there’s no chance of you blacking out on the way home or growing so dizzy you fall off your horse. Until now, you couldn’t even remember where you were. No way was I going to dump you outside my gate just because propriety said you shouldn’t be here. Propriety wasn’t kicked by a mule.”

Travis sucked in a breath and reined in his temper. It was only natural for her to be alarmed. She was in her nightclothes in a strange man’s bed. Any sane woman would protest. It only proved how delirious she’d truly been when she’d rambled on about him being handsome and the hero of her dreams. He should be thankful for the evidence that she was in her right mind again.

So why wouldn’t that pang in his chest at the thought of her leaving go away?

“I understand.” Meredith looked at him with those big eyes of hers and made an effort to clear the trepidation from her face. But when she bit her bottom lip, he knew she still harbored worries.

“I see our patient’s awake again.” Crockett leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. His trousers and shirt were streaked with soot, but his face and hands glowed from a recent scrubbing. “How are you feeling, Meredith?”

“Stronger, thank you.” Her lashes remained lowered, and her grip on the blankets tightened.

Travis moved to the foot of the bed to shield her from his brother’s view. “She remembers things, too,” he said. “Not everything, but enough that I don’t have to repeat explanations.”

“Well, that’s good news.” Crockett angled his head past Travis and projected his voice across the room. “Another couple days of rest, and you should be up and about.”

Meredith’s quiet moan was all the catalyst Travis needed. He strode to the doorway and, taking Crockett by the shoulders, manually pointed him toward the kitchen.

Crockett resisted, concern creeping into his voice. “Is she in pain?”

“Only if she moves.” Travis strong-armed his brother into the hall. “Why don’t you get her some of that soup Jim’s heating up? She hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

Crockett pulled out of Travis’s hold and turned on him. “What’s wrong with you?” he hissed. “You’re acting as if you think I’m going to hurt her or something.”

“It’s not that. It’s just . . .” Travis let out a heavy breath. “She’s not too pleased about having to prolong her stay, and your reminders aren’t easing her worries none.”

Crockett jutted his chin. “Well, she’s going to have to get used to the idea, because I’m not letting her leave until I’m sure—”

“I already made that plain to her,” Travis interrupted. “And she’s coming around. She just needs some time to settle things in her mind.” He glanced back toward the open doorway. “Meredith’s tough. She’ll weather whatever storm comes.”

“She’s got spunk. That’s for sure.”

Hearing the admiration in his brother’s voice, Travis turned to scowl at him. “Just get the soup.”

Crockett’s gaze returned to the doorway to Meredith’s room, giving Travis the distinct impression that the man remembered all too well what she looked like tucked up in bed.

He gave his brother a shove. “Get going.”

“All right. All right.” Crockett caught his balance and finally moved toward the kitchen. “I’ll brew some willow bark tea, too. It’ll help with her pain.”

“Fine.”

Travis marched back to his room and made a beeline for his chest of drawers. He grabbed the first shirt his hand touched and yanked it out of the drawer. His bootheels clomped against the wood floor, then muffled as he hit the rag rug at the side of the bed.