Page 69 of Short-Straw Bride

“Any leaks?” Travis called out.

Moses grinned down at him, his white teeth glowing against his dark face. “No, sir.” He patted the barn wall to his left. “She’s holdin’ together real fine.”

“I suspected she would.” Travis strode to the ladder and met Moses on his descent. “You’ve done well, my friend.” He offered his hand.

Moses shook it. “Mr. Jim’s the master carpenter. I just supplied some extra labor and a bit of experience.”

“More than a bit.” Travis winked at the big man, then pulled his soggy hat from his head and tried to reshape the brim. “We wouldn’t have had the barn up in time for this storm without your help.”

Crockett joined them at the base of the loft. “Yep. It’s going to seem strange not having you and Josiah around every day.”

“I can still meet up with Josiah on Saturdays to go fishin’, can’t I, Trav?” Neill’s raised voice drew Travis’s attention to where the boys stood rubbing down the horses. The two had become fast friends, and Travis had no intention of forcing a separation.

“Absolutely. The Jacksons are welcome here anytime.”

Neill nodded with all the cockiness of a young man coming into his own, but he couldn’t quite stifle the grin that lit up his face. It was nearly as bright as the one he sported the Christmas they gave him his first rifle. Meredith had been right about the boy needing a companion his own age.

Meredith. The urge to see her spurred him forward.

“Why don’t we walk over to the house and get you some hot coffee before you head out?” Travis clapped Moses on the arm. “I’m sure Meri’s got a pot warming on the stove.”

“Uh, Trav?” Crockett edged closer, his eyes uneasy. “She’s not back yet.”

Travis stiffened. “Not back? You mean you let her go out in this mess?” Fear-spawned rage flared with such unexpected force, he had his brother by the collar before he even realized he’d moved. “I trusted you, Crock. If anything happens to her, I swear I’ll—”

“Whoa!” Crockett brought his arms up in a sharp motion and broke Travis’s hold. “She left two hours ago, before the storm hit. You’re the one who gave her permission to leave as long as it wasn’t raining. Don’t go laying this on me.”

Travis backed away, drawing a trembling hand over his face. Crockett was right. This was his fault. He never should have let her sway him from his better judgment. He should have—

“Josiah and me will check the path by the creek,” Moses said, striding toward the barn entrance, buttoning his coat as he went. “Myra mighta sent her back that way when she saw the ice. It’s shorter.”

“Neill, go with Moses,” Travis ordered, his mind racing ahead. “If you meet up with her, send up a couple shots. Crock and I will check the road.”

Neill left with the Jacksons on foot while Travis and Crockett saddled fresh mounts.

“Sorry.” Travis glanced over at his brother as he tightened the cinch. He didn’t have time for a lengthy apology, but Crockett didn’t seem to need one. He nodded his acceptance as he fit a bit into his horse’s mouth.

“We’ll find her, Trav.”

Travis planted his foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself into the saddle. “We better.”

Not waiting for his brother to finish, he set off at a canter and overtook Neill and the others before they reached the gate. The wind whistled in his ears, the wind and something that sounded vaguely like a horse’s neigh.

Meri.

When he rounded the last stand of trees, Travis spotted Ginger’s distinctive chestnut-and-white patches.

“Thank God,” he breathed. But his relief lasted only a moment.

If Meri was at the gate, why couldn’t he see her? It was possible she had just arrived and dismounted, but his gut told him otherwise. Travis slowed his gelding and leapt from his back before the animal came to a complete halt.

“Meri!” He called her name as he dug in his trouser pocket for the key he always kept there. “Meri!”

Travis shoved the key into the padlock. When it clicked open, he yanked the steel clasp free of the chain and tossed it into the dirt. Grabbing the middle rail of the gate, he pried it open with one hand, just far enough to squeeze himself through. He held out a calming hand to Ginger, noting the way she shied from putting weight on her left hind leg.

What happened? Had Meri been thrown? Was she even now lying hurt somewhere? Travis scanned the ground as far as he could see, cursing the trees he loved for obscuring his vision.

Turning his attention back to the horse, he captured the bridle and patted the paint’s neck. Her coat was soaked. Ice crystals had accumulated in the dip of her saddle and in the dark strands of her mane. The ground had been churned into a muddy mess from her hooves.