Page 65 of Short-Straw Bride

No, having a marriage filled with intimacy and love was that important to her. But since talking with Myra was her best chance to achieve that . . . “Yes. I really think it will help.”

“All right.” He grumbled as if he would have much rather given a different answer. “But only if it’s not raining. Rain can turn to sleet in an instant on a day like this, and the ice would make the roads treacherous. Promise me?”

Meredith nodded, unable to hold her grin at bay.

Never had she flown through her morning chores so quickly. So far the weather was holding, but the clouds were turning an ominous shade of gray. If she didn’t leave soon, she might not be able to leave at all. After adding an extra flannel petticoat beneath her skirt, Meredith dug out her woolen mittens and matching scarf. She wrapped the scarf around her head to protect her cheeks and ears from the bitter wind blowing out of the north and fastened her cloak over her shoulders. The ride wouldn’t be long, but she’d be facing the wind much of the way. Coming home would be easier.

Having told Crockett her plans when she’d taken sandwiches out to the barn a few minutes ago, she wasn’t surprised to see Ginger saddled and ready at the end of the porch. With anticipation dancing in her chest, Meredith descended the steps and hurriedly untied the lead line from the porch pillar.

“Need a leg up?” Crockett emerged from around the corner as if he’d been waiting for her.

His sudden appearance startled her, but Meredith managed to greet her brother-in-law with a smile. “Thank you.” She fit her boot into his laced fingers and soon found herself on Ginger’s back. “I’ll return in time to fix supper.”

“If I were you, I’d return long before then.” Crockett hesitated before handing her the reins. “There’s a storm coming. It’ll do you no good to be caught in it.”

“I’ll be careful,” she assured him.

And she was. She held Ginger to an easy canter on the road and didn’t even take the shortcut across Beaver Creek. She stopped by Seth Winston’s store, but only long enough to give the crotchety old man a dozen of the oatmeal cookies she and Cassie had baked yesterday. He might have won their first skirmish, but she was determined to win the war.

“Ya tryin’ to poison me, woman?” Winston grouched as he untied the knot on the napkin-wrapped treat.

“Nope, just sweeten you up some.”

“Doggone women, always thinking they gotta change a man. Infernal creatures. A fellow’d be better off with a mule than a wife.”

Meredith let the insults slide off her back, knowing she didn’t have time to rise to his bait, and wished the storekeeper a good day.

Braced for the cold, she turned the knob and stepped outside, giving the door enough of a tug to allow it to close behind her. But the thud she expected never came. She turned to reach for the knob a second time only to find Seth Winston filling the doorway. The ornery old buzzard had followed her.

She offered a brief smile, then spun away and scurried down to the street to unhitch Ginger.

“Always thought them Archer boys was too smart to let a female hog-tie ’em.” Winston called after her.

“Guess that proves my gender’s superiority over the male of the species,” Meredith called back, unable to hold her tongue any longer.

“How’s that?”

Meredith didn’t respond until she was safely in the saddle. “Not only are we smarter, but we tie better knots.”

With that, she reined Ginger around and touched her heels to the mare’s flanks. She could have sworn she heard a bark of laughter from behind her, but that was impossible. It must have been the wind.

Since Myra only taught at the freedmen’s school during the morning hours on weekdays, Meredith rode past the schoolyard to the small pine cabin that sat a quarter-mile behind it.

“Miss Meri? That you?” Joshua called out from beside the woodshed where he’d been splitting logs. “Everything all right with Pa?”

“Yes. He and Josiah were helping Crockett fork hay into the loft when I left. I just wanted to visit with your mother. Is she at home?”

“Yes’m.” He leaned his hatchet against the chopping stump and rubbed his palms along his trouser legs. “Go on up to the house. I’ll see to your horse.”

Meredith smiled at the young man as she dismounted. “Thank you.”

By the time she reached the cabin, however, her smile had twisted into a nervous grimace. Second thoughts leapt through her mind, causing havoc with her stomach. Marriage was a deeply private affair. Perhaps discussing her relationship concerns with Myra wasn’t such a good idea.

But how else was she to figure out what to do?

A verse from Titus surfaced through the panic. A verse about older women teaching younger women how to love their husbands. Surely the answers she sought fell into that category.

Meredith inhaled a long, steadying breath, then raised her hand to knock. When Myra answered, Meredith blurted out the thought uppermost in her mind.