Page 39 of Short-Straw Bride

In truth, he’d been so caught up with worries about Mitchell, the barn, and whether or not a wedding would even take place, he’d given very little thought to what would happen after the exchange of vows.

His gaze found Meredith across the room, the ribbing comments of his brothers fading from his awareness as he lingered over her profile. The curve of her cheek. The way the ribbons caressed her neck, inviting him to do the same. The slenderness of her waist. The curve of her—

Meredith glanced up at that moment, and Travis jerked his attention back to his brothers.

All right, so he had thought about it. Just not in any . . . uh . . . practical sense.

Instinctively, he knew that Meredith would not refuse him his marital rights. She would consider it her duty as his wife. Yet most husbands had first been suitors, courting their prospective brides with sweet words and gifts of affection. Except for the handful of weeds he’d presented her that morning, he’d given her nothing but a scarred leg and a dented head.

“What’s got you frowning, brother?” Crockett jostled him with a shoulder to the arm. “You want me to hurry this party along so you can have some time alone with your bride?” His eyebrows wiggled suggestively, but Travis ignored the bawdy gesture.

He nudged Crockett aside and lowered his voice so the others wouldn’t hear. Jim had already wandered into Hayes territory anyway, trying to get closer to a certain gal in pink, and Neill was smart enough to take the hint and turn his attention to the parson.

“Do you think I should give her some time to adjust before I move into her room?” Travis stretched his neck from side to side in an effort to rid himself of the kinks that suddenly arose.

“Shoot, Trav. It’s your room, not hers.”

“I’m serious, Crockett. It would be the considerate thing to do, don’t you think? This situation has been thrust on both of us without any warning.”

The teasing light in Crockett’s eyes dimmed, and his mouth stiffened. “Are you saying you’re not attracted to her in that way?” His voice was tight. “You should have never gone through with this if you—”

“Of course that’s not what I’m saying,” Travis hissed. “Just look at her. A man would have to be blind not to be attracted.”

Crockett’s face relaxed.

“I just thought, maybe I should, you know, court her a bit first.” Travis kicked at the edge of the rug with the toe of his boot. He’d rather she be a willing partner than simply a dutiful one.

“When do you plan to court her, exactly? While we rebuild the barn? Or maybe out among the cattle while we search out new places for them to forage, since half our fodder went up in smoke? Thanks to Mitchell, we have more work on our hands and less time to accomplish it with winter already knocking on the door.” Crockett looked to the ceiling and blew out a breath before turning back to his brother. “I don’t know what the right answer is, Travis. I’ve even less experience than you when it comes to women. Talk to Meredith. Decide together what is best for the two of you. And pray for the Lord’s guidance.”

“Travis?” Meredith’s soft voice gave him a start.

He spun around. Had she overheard any of their conversation? He prayed not and schooled his features as best he could to keep his chagrin hidden.

“I thought our guests might like to eat those sweet rolls now.” She spoke with hesitation, and her eyes had difficulty holding his, but her smile reached inside him and undid the knots in his gut.

Travis offered her his arm and called out to the rest of the room. “My wife informs me that it’s time to eat. And I, for one, am eager to sample my bride’s cooking.”

“It takes a brave man to marry a woman without proof of her ability to keep him from starvation, Archer,” the parson said on a chuckle as he bustled forward.

“Says the man in the greatest hurry to get to the kitchen.”

Meredith giggled at his jest, and Travis smiled. He slipped his hand over hers where it rested on his forearm and enjoyed the feel of his mother’s ring beneath her glove.

“I said you were brave, lad. Not me. I’ve tasted Miss Meredith’s baked goods and know precisely what quality of treat waits for me in the other room. And I plan to snatch the largest roll.” He broke into a bouncy jog as if afraid someone would beat him to the prize. The room erupted in laughter.

Emboldened by the man’s high spirits, Travis leaned down and whispered in Meredith’s ear. “If they taste half as sweet as the one who baked them, they’ll be delicious indeed.”

“Travis,” she chastened in low voice, her lovely cheeks matching her cousin’s dress.

He grinned unrepentantly and urged her forward.

He was going to enjoy this courting business.

18

Meredith winced as she straightened from the wash basket and lifted one of Travis’s shirts to the line. Laundry day had always made her lower back throb with all the bending and heavy lifting required, but as she surveyed the neat rows of male clothing, sheets, and table linens flapping in the chilled air, a proud smile curved her lips.

These were her family’s things. Her husband’s things. Amazing how that simple fact took the drudgery out of the chore.