Page 77 of Short-Straw Bride

Anticipation fluttered in her chest as she untied her apron and tossed it onto the table. She pranced down the hall, eager to greet her husband. But when she reached for the door handle, the sound of Sadie’s growl stopped her. Caution reasserted itself. Meredith released the knob and instead reached for the shotgun propped nearby.

Whoever was in the yard, it wasn’t her husband.

34

Travis guided Bexar through the muddy terrain left from yesterday’s storm, methodically working his way back to the ranch. Jim had been none too happy to see the gate down and had given him an earful about how it didn’t make sense to reduce security around the house until things with Mitchell were settled. And though Travis still believed that taking down the gate was what God had called him to do, hearing his own doubts voiced aloud left him uneasy.

I’m trying to trust you, Lord. But I feel like I’m fighting against nature. Common sense tells me to lock down, not open up. To protect those I love with every tool at my disposal.

What if he had misunderstood God’s intention? What if his actions today were putting his family in danger?

“Is it too late to lay out a fleece?” Travis quipped, tilting an eye toward heaven. “A little confirmation would sure be appreciated.”

The more he thought about that fleece, though, the more he remembered what the Lord had demanded of the man who’d laid it out. He’d demanded trust beyond what common sense dictated. God whittled Gideon’s army from three thousand men to three hundred, then sent him into battle against an enemy whose troops were too vast to be counted. Gideon purposely made himself vulnerable, ignored his instincts, and put the welfare of his people into the hands of another. And the Lord rewarded him by granting him victory.

Travis squinted into the distance, sighting in on the trail of woodsmoke that marked the location of the ranch house. Was God calling him to do the same?

Bexar ambled into a clearing as Travis pondered. Then from out of the quiet, two muted cracks—gunfire—set both man and horse on alert.

Meri!

Travis kicked Bexar into a run. The animal leapt to his command, his hooves eating up the damp earth as they raced forward. The frantic pace made them reckless, but Travis drove on, his mind focused on only one thing—getting to his wife.

I trusted her to you! his soul cried as trees blurred past.

Shoring up his faith, he held on to the knowledge that she had to be relatively safe in order to fire the signal shots. But even that did little to calm the anxiety raging within. He needed to see her, touch her. Only then would he be able to breathe.

The barn came into view. Travis slowed Bexar with a touch of the reins and yanked his rifle free of the scabbard. His gaze scoured the trees, searching for the threat. Meredith didn’t spook easily. She wouldn’t have fired those shots without reason.

When he found nothing suspicious behind the barn, he used his knees to steer Bexar into the main yard. That’s when he spotted her. Sitting on the porch rocker, the shotgun near but not gripped across her lap, Sadie lying at her feet. She looked safe. Beautiful.

Something wound tight inside him uncoiled a bit.

He could tell the moment she noticed him. She pushed slowly to her feet, as if needing to verify his identity before taking any deliberate action. Once she did, she scrambled down the steps, picked up her skirts, and ran toward him, her limp exacerbated by her hurry.

Travis couldn’t yet see her face clearly, but there was a desperation to her movement that twisted his gut. She wasn’t just relieved to see him. Something was wrong. Urging Bexar forward, he crossed half the yard in the time it took her to get to the corral. Once he was close enough, he slid from the horse’s back and rushed to meet her.

His hands gripped her arms when he reached her, and his gaze roved over her, searching for proof that she was indeed unharmed. “What happened, Meri? Are you all right?”

“It’s not me, Travis.” Meredith bent her arms and grabbed hold of his elbows, her fingers pressing through the thickness of his coat. “It’s Cassie.”

He looked over at the house. “Your cousin’s here? Jim said he left her in town.”

“She’s not here. She’s at the old homestead. About to marry Roy Mitchell.”

His attention snapped back to her face. “What?” Jim was going to be livid. “I thought your uncle gave his word not to force the union.”

“Aunt Noreen must’ve interfered somehow. She hates to be thwarted, and in her mind, Cassie’s marriage to Roy is the best way to preserve their livelihood.” Meredith was rambling so fast, Travis struggled to keep pace. “She must’ve warned Roy of Uncle Everett’s change of heart, not realizing what measures he would take to ensure he didn’t lose the land he’d been promised.”

Meri’s vivid eyes locked with his. “I think he kidnapped her, Travis. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. Mr. Wheeler tried to make it sound like everything was amicable. But I know Cassie, and she’d never—”

“Wait a minute.” Travis’s eyes narrowed. “Wheeler was here?” That was the man who’d tried to convince him to sell out, and no doubt one of the riders responsible for setting fire to his barn. He’d been here? Talking to Meri?

She nodded. “Roy sent him to deliver the invitation.”

“Did he touch you?” Travis shoved the words past clenched teeth. If that snake had so much as laid a finger on her . . .

“He didn’t even get off his horse.” A gleam shone in Meredith’s eyes. “Between Sadie’s growls and my shotgun, we managed to welcome him in true Archer style.”