Page 68 of Short-Straw Bride

“Easy, girl.” Heart thudding in her chest, Meredith righted herself and ground her teeth together as she urged Ginger into the water.

They splashed across without much problem, so Meredith relaxed her grip on the saddle horn. Then, as Ginger surged up the opposite bank, her hooves slid on the mud. Her hind legs buckled, and she fell hard onto her haunches. Meredith flew backward. She screeched and grabbed desperately for the pommel, but her numb fingers were too slow to connect. The reins tore from her hand, and she toppled end over end—right into Beaver Creek.

Meredith gasped. Frigid water slapped her face. Cold rushed up her arms and legs, her cloak offering little protection as she lay half submerged in the creek. She scrambled to her feet and quickly waded to the bank, but already she could feel the added weight in her skirts.

Wiping water from her face with the back of her hand, she searched for Ginger. The horse had made it up the small embankment, but the way she kept lifting her rear left foot sent a frisson of dread through Meredith.

After wringing what water she could from her petticoats, Meredith hiked up her skirts and planted her boot on a thick tree root protruding from the muddy bank. She grasped a handful of tall grass from atop the rise and crawled out of the creek bed.

“So maybe we should have taken the longer way around, huh, girl?” Meredith scraped her mud-caked boots on the yellowed grass and carefully approached Ginger. “We’re definitely both going to need a bath after this.” She collected the dangling reins and wrapped them around the pommel, then ran a calming hand down the paint’s neck and shoulder. Slowly, she stroked her way back toward the mare’s hind legs.

“Let me take a look, girl. Easy.” Meredith ran her palm down Ginger’s left leg, over the hock and down along the fetlock. Ginger tossed her head and snorted as if in discomfort, but otherwise submitted to the examination. Nothing seemed to be broken, thank the Lord, but something was definitely paining her. Hopefully, it was just a bruise. But it could be a sprain or even a fracture. One thing was for certain, Meredith wasn’t about to risk causing her horse further injury by forcing her to carry her added weight. They’d have to walk the rest of the way.

Meredith unwound Ginger’s reins and limped up to the animal’s head. “It’s only a couple of miles, girl. We’ll be home in no time.”

Unfortunately, that promise proved to be a bit optimistic. As the temperatures continued to drop, Meredith’s pace slowed. With every step, shards of pain tore through the arch of her right foot and up into her calf and thigh.

“We . . . make quite a . . . pair, don’t we, Ginger?” Meredith ground out as she bent to retrieve a dead branch to use as a cane. It didn’t offer much relief, but a little help was better than none. “Two girls with bum legs limping home.”

After another dozen or so excruciating steps, her weak foot came down on a stone hidden beneath a scattering of leaves and pine needles. Meredith cried out and crumpled to the cold, wet ground, her ankle twisting beneath her. As her knees hit, she released Ginger’s reins.

Meredith drew in a few deep breaths and willed her mind to disregard the agony in her leg. She could rest when she got home—home to Travis.

Travis. Meredith concentrated on her husband, on her plans to encourage his attentions, to become his wife in truth. Gripping the oak branch with both hands, she levered herself to her feet again, a groan vibrating in her throat.

They were close, maybe only a quarter mile away. I can do this.

Ducking her head against the sleet that continued to pelt down on her head, she planted the walking stick firmly against the ground and lifted her right leg. The moment her foot came down and took her weight, however, the weakened limb gave way.

“No!” Angry tears filled her eyes as her hip collided with the earth. Why did her body have to be so feeble?

Ginger sidestepped her mistress and swung her head back around, her big brown eyes seeming to convey the truth Meredith was loath to accept.

Time to part company.

Meredith pushed up onto her good knee, blew out a heavy breath, and nodded. “All right, then. Go fetch the men, Ginger.” She swatted the paint’s rump with her walking stick. “Hyah!”

The horse trotted off, still favoring her back leg.

Using her arms, Meredith dragged herself over to a nearby pine and leaned her back against the trunk. Only then did she remember the key on the chain around her neck. The Archer gate would block Ginger’s path.

She closed her eyes for a moment, her mind turning heavenward. Help Travis find me, Lord. And don’t let him worry too much. Or blame himself.

The more she thought about Travis and the conversation they’d had that morning, the more Meredith’s heart ached for her husband. Don’t let this accident reinforce his fears. Bring him beyond that, to the assurance that can only be found in depending wholly on you.

Exhaustion pressed upon her and kept her eyelids closed. She’d just rest for a few minutes, regain her strength. Then she’d crawl home if she had to. Travis needed her.

30

Travis and Neill rode in from the range, rain and sleet sliding off their hat brims and oilskin ponchos. When the house came into view, Travis nudged Bexar into an easy lope. What he wouldn’t give for a hot cup of Meri’s coffee right about now. If he was lucky, she might even have some of those oatmeal cookies left over. Well, if Crockett, Moses, and Josiah hadn’t already finished them off.

Those three had had it easy that afternoon, working under the cover of the barn roof. Nevertheless, Meredith had most likely packed up half the kitchen for Moses in payment, including the cookies. Travis couldn’t begrudge the man the treat. He and Josiah had worked as hard as any Archer over the last couple of weeks. They deserved a healthy payment.

He’d come to respect Moses’s abilities, his work ethic . . . shoot, the man himself. He and Josiah were going to be missed now that the barn was finished.

Crockett must have heard their approaching horses, for he pulled wide the barn doors and allowed Travis and Neill to ride directly inside.

Josiah stepped out of a newly fashioned stall and moved forward to take charge of Bexar. Travis tossed him the reins as he dismounted, scanning the shadowy interior for Moses. He finally spotted him up in the hayloft, examining the ceiling.