Page 72 of Short-Straw Bride

She leaned forward to show him what she wanted, but for some reason, her lips missed their target and landed somewhere on his neck. At least it felt like his neck. Not that she’d ever kissed him there, of course. But it felt much like she expected a neck to feel. She thought to adjust her aim and try again. However, she couldn’t quite summon the energy. Oh well, necks were nice, too.

“Meredith!” Travis’s bark combined with a brief, jarring shake tore away the curtain of her delirium, leaving her exposed to the harsh light of reality.

She hung like a rag doll from Travis’s arms, her feet dragging the floor, her face plastered against his neck. No wedding dress. Only mud-smeared calico and a soggy wool cloak.

“I need your help.” This time she heard the fear in his voice. “Please.”

The hovering darkness promised escape, but she resisted its pull. Travis needed her.

Meredith reached her hands up to her husband’s shoulders and drew her feet more firmly beneath her. Bracing her weight on her good leg, she gazed into his eyes as she forced herself to stand. His eyes held hers, infusing her with strength.

Keeping one hand at her waist to aid her balance, Travis used the other to undo the cloak’s fastenings. Once he had it undone, he helped her slip each arm through the sleeves and tossed the sopping garment into a heap near the wall. He had just reached for the buttons that ran the length of her bodice when a masculine voice intruded.

“How is she, Travis?”

Meredith twisted her head away from Crockett, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“She’s frozen, half delirious, and weak as a newborn kitten, but I think if we can get her warm, she’ll be all right.”

“I’ve got water heating for some tea and a pair of bricks heating in the hearth. I brought some toweling, too.” Crockett raised his arms to indicate the small bundle, then walked into the room and set it on the bed. “Need any help?’

Meredith gasped. She thought the man wanted to be a preacher. How could he make such an improper suggestion?

“Yeah. Come hold her up for a minute while I get out of this slicker.”

“Travis, no,” she moaned.

His eyes widened slightly, then crinkled at the corners. “Don’t worry,” he whispered close to her ear. “I’ll send him away before we undo any more buttons.”

What on earth had possessed him to say such a thing? Travis stripped off his hat, slicker, and coat, tossing them to the floor. The woman was soaked to the skin, her teeth chattering faster than the rattle on a snake’s tail. The last thing she needed was a flirtatious husband. Yet it had brought a touch of color back to her cheeks.

Travis took a minute to rummage through the bureau drawers and find one of Meri’s nightdresses before he relieved Crockett. His brother stepped aside, then winked at Travis, careful to keep the gesture hidden from Meredith.

“A little different from last time, huh?”

Images of the two of them bumbling over Meredith’s corset after her encounter with Samson scurried through Travis’s mind. “Very,” he ground out.

Thank the Lord Meredith was conscious enough to cooperate this time, for there was no way he’d let Crockett assist in her undressing. That duty belonged to her husband. And only her husband.

Crockett slapped him on the back and strode to the door. “I’ll knock when the tea and bricks are ready,” he said, all teasing gone from his voice as he grabbed the knob to pull the door shut. “Feel better, Meredith.”

“Th-th-th-hank y-y-you,” she stammered in reply.

Travis gently tugged her head toward him until it lay against his chest, and then he ran his hands briskly up and down her arms, trying to ward off her convulsive shivers. His own legs were cold inside his rain-soaked trousers, but his comfort could wait. Meri’s couldn’t.

Together, they managed to get her dress, petticoats, and corset off. But when Travis started to toss the pink, lacy undergarment on top of the pile of wet clothes, Meredith shrieked and grabbed his arm with more strength than he would have given her credit for.

“Drape it over the b-b-back of the ch-chair.”

He figured it was safer not to argue with her, so he did as she instructed and hurried back to her side, grabbing the toweling off the bed as he went. He wrapped her in the dry cloth as if it were a shawl and urged her to lean on him as he rubbed her back and arms. So focused was he on getting her warm that it wasn’t until he was kneeling before her, running a second towel up and down her calves, that he realized how well her damp chemise and drawers clung to her curves.

Travis immediately turned his attention to her feet.

After a moment of carefully regulated breathing and a stern internal lecture, Travis stood and faced his bride. “Do you think you can handle the nightdress on your own?”

She gave a jerky little nod, and he exhaled in relief. Her shivers had calmed somewhat, but she still looked unsteady on her feet.

“I’m going to turn around to give you some privacy, but I’ll be right here if you need me. All right?”