Page 30 of Short-Straw Bride

A dull ache spread across her chest. All her life she’d dreamed of marrying Travis Archer. But he wasn’t a dream. Not anymore. He was flesh and blood and just down the hall. Could she really give him up when he was finally within reach?

Travis hunkered down next to the broom and broke off a handful of straw from an already frayed edge. After selecting the pieces most similar in length—and tucking one of them inside the cuff of his sleeve—he strode back to the table.

“Everyone’s agreed that this will settle the matter, correct?” Travis eyed his brothers and waited for each of them to nod. “Good.” He tossed four pieces of straw onto the table. “Crockett, shorten one of the straws.”

Crockett snapped about an inch off the end of one of the straws and tossed the leftover piece onto the floor. Then before anyone else could volunteer for the duty, Travis snatched the straws up and turned his back.

He arranged the straws in his fist, making sure each end stood at a height equal to the others. But instead of including the short straw, he withdrew the fourth long straw from his shirt sleeve and added it to the mix. A pang of guilt shot through him. He’d always demanded honesty from his brothers and never gave them anything less than that himself. Until now.

Not wanting to examine his motives too closely, Travis shoved the short straw into his sleeve and told himself what he was doing was for the good of the family. Then, with a deep breath, he spun around to face his brothers.

“All right. Who’s first?”

Neill reached out a hand. “Here goes nothing.” He closed his eyes and grabbed. When he spied the long straw, a crooked smile twitched across his face an instant before a more solemn expression crowded it out. “Well, it ain’t gonna be me, fellas.”

Travis’s guilt eased at the boy’s obvious relief. He swiveled toward Jim next, and when he, too, pulled out a long straw, there was no indication of strong feelings one way or the other. He simply waggled his brows at Crockett and Travis, then propped a foot on the seat of his chair and leaned an elbow on his knee.

“Guess it’s you or me, Crock.” Travis extended the final two straws to his eldest brother, tightening his grip to ensure the fourth straw didn’t escape when the third one was tugged free.

Crockett eyed both options and frowned a bit in concentration. Travis had to focus to keep his hand steady. Was Crock trying to pick the short one or the long one? Did he actually have feelings for Meredith? His offer to marry the gal earlier had seemed practical, not personal. But what if there was more to it than that?

Travis clenched his jaw, his thoughts growing defiant. What if there was more to it? Crock didn’t share a history with Meredith, and he sure as shootin’ wasn’t the guy Meri had said she’d dreamed about.

“Loosen your grip, Trav,” Crockett said, breaking into his thoughts. “I can’t pull my straw out.”

Heat climbed up Travis’s neck. “Sorry.”

Crockett shook his head and grinned as he pulled the third straw free, but his smile faded as he examined his piece. “It’s a long one.”

“Guess that means Travis gets her,” Neill proclaimed.

Crockett grasped Travis’s wrist. “Let’s see the straw first.”

Panic shot through Travis. How was he going to make the switch? He needed a distraction—something unexpected, something . . .

“You’re drawing straws?” Meredith stepped into the kitchen, her nightgown swirling about her ankles, her hair mussed, her eyes shooting blue fire.

Every male eye in the room locked onto the honey-haired virago. Travis had no idea how many seconds ticked by before he realized that Crockett’s hand had fallen away. He quickly dropped the long straw, scraped his boot over it, and sent it skittering back toward the wall as he shook the short one down into his cupped palm.

When he looked back up, her anger pierced him. However, it was the hurt hiding behind the sparks in her eyes that made his heart ache. “Meredith, I—”

“Four grown men put their heads together,” she said, cutting him off as she reached to the wall for support, “and this is the solution you come up with? Drawing straws?”

“Jim wanted to arm wrestle—oomph.” Neill’s explanation died as Jim’s elbow connected with the kid’s stomach.

Meredith speared the two of them with a quick glare, then dropped her hand to her side and stalked toward Travis. Crockett sidled out of range.

“So this is how you see to things, is it? How diplomatic of you to leave my future in the hands of chance. I’m surprised you didn’t throw an extra straw in the mix for Roy Mitchell. Might as well give him a shot, too. But then he’d have my land, which would increase his determination to get his hands on yours in order to complete his enterprise, and you couldn’t allow that. After all, the land always comes first with you. Isn’t that right, Travis? The land and your brothers.”

Somehow Travis managed not to flinch under the barrage of sarcasm. He held her gaze until she finally dropped her eyes from his face to someplace lower. Her hand closed over his. A shiver of pleasure mixed with dread snaked up his arm. She drew his fist up between them and gently extracted the short straw from his grasp.

“The land and your brothers,” she repeated softly. “Of course you drew the short straw. How else could you spare your brothers from the burden of being shackled to me?”

“It’s not like that, Meri.” Travis reached for her hand, but she pulled it away the instant his fingers grazed her knuckles.

“I expected better from you, Travis.” Her words hacked into him like an ax in a tree trunk, and he swayed a bit from the impact. The trust he’d grown accustomed to seeing in her eyes had dimmed to disappointment.

“I expected better from all of you.” She stepped back, creating an invisible chasm between her and the men who had let her down. “Did it never occur to you that I might actually want some say in my future? Or did you assume I would meekly accept whatever the four of you decided and thank you for lifting the heavy burden of thinking for myself off my weak female shoulders?”