Short-Straw Bride

  © 2012 by Karen Witemeyer

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2012

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-7115-0

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services

  Author represented by WordServe Literary Group

  To Gloria and Beth

  my eagle-eyed critique partners and beloved friends.

  You strengthen my stories, encourage my heart,

  and corral my characters when they get out of hand.

  Thanks for walking this road with me.

  Bear ye one another’s burdens,

  and so fulfill the law of Christ.

  GALATIANS 6:2

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  1 2 3 4 5

  6 7 8 9 10

  11 12 13 14 15

  16 17 18 19 20

  21 22 23 24 25

  26 27 28 29 30

  31 32 33 34 35

  36 37 38 39 40

  About the Author

  Books by Karen Witemeyer

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  Prologue

  Anderson County, Texas—1870

  Ten-year-old Meredith Hayes balled her hands into fists as she faced her tormentor. “Hiram Ellis! Give me back my lunch bucket this instant!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Meri. Did you want this?” His voice dripped sarcasm as he dangled the small pail in front of her.

  She lunged for it, but her hands met only air as the older boy snatched it away and tossed it over her head to his snickering brother. Meredith ricocheted between the two, never quite fast enough to get more than a finger on the tin.

  Why was she always the one to get picked on? Meredith stomped her foot in frustration. She thought she’d gotten enough of a lead today after school, but Hiram must have been watching for her. He’d had it out for her ever since her family moved to the area last spring. Probably because the land they bought used to belong to his best friend’s family.

  “Meri, Meri, quite contrary,” Hiram sang in a ridiculously high-pitched voice, skipping in a circle around her and swinging the lunch bucket back and forth. A group of girls came around the bend and stopped to giggle behind their hands. Meredith asked for help, but they just stood there smirking and whispering behind their schoolbooks. Even Anna Leigh, her desk mate and the one girl Meredith thought a friend. Angry tears pooled in her eyes, but Meredith blinked them away. She’d not let Hiram win.

  “You’re a bully, Hiram Ellis.”

  “Yeah?” Hiram stopped skipping and glared at Meredith. “Well, you’re a carpetbagger’s daughter.”

  “My papa’s not a carpetbagger. He’s a teacher, just like your sister.”

  Hiram’s face scrunched up like a pumpkin that had started to rot. “My sister teaches white kids. Not good-for-nothin’ darkies.”

  Meredith raised her chin and repeated the words she’d heard her father say countless times. “They’re freedmen. And they have just as much right to learn as you do.”

  “If those freedmen were still slaves, like they oughta be, Joey Gordon’s pa wouldn’ta been killed by Yankees, and Joey would still be here.” Hiram glowered and strode toward her, his boots pounding into the earth. Meredith instinctively retreated a step before she remembered she wasn’t afraid of him.

  “You want this stupid tin back?” Hiram growled out the question as he halted a couple of feet in front of her. “Go fetch!”

  He sprinted to the edge of the road and hurled the pail through a thick stand of pine trees. Meredith watched it fly, wondering why God thought it fair to give a mean-tempered boy such a strong throwing arm.

  The bucket clipped a tree limb and disappeared over a small rise. A hollow clang echoed through the pines followed by a series of quieter thunks as it tumbled down the back side of the hill.

  Meredith winced. Mama was going to skin her alive for bringing her pail home dented and busted. The only thing worse would be not bringing it home at all.

  Meredith glared at Hiram and trudged forward.

  “Meri, no!” Anna Leigh ran up and clutched Meredith’s arm. “You can’t. That’s Archer land.”

  Archer land? Meredith looked around to get her bearings and swallowed hard as recognition dawned. Anna Leigh was right.

  “No one steps on Archer land. Not if they value their life.” Anna Leigh shook her head, eyeing the trees as if their branches might reach down and snatch her off the ground. “Just let it go, Meri.” She backed away, tugging on Meredith’s arm. But when Meredith made no move to follow, Anna Leigh released her with a heavy sigh.

  It couldn’t be as bad as all that. Could it? Meredith gazed through the pines, to the small hill that hid her lunch bucket. Her heart thumped against her ribs. It wasn’t very far. If she ran, she could get her tin and be back before the Archers even knew she’d been there. Then again, everyone in Anderson County knew the Archer boys were trigger happy and plumb loco, to boot. What if one of them was hiding out there somewhere, just waiting for her?

  “I hear they got bloodthirsty hounds that can sniff you out the minute your foot steps off the road.” Hiram spoke in a low, husky voice. “Dogs that’d sooner gnaw your leg off than look at you.”

  Meredith told herself to pay him no mind. He was only trying to scare her. But she couldn’t quite banish the image of a big black dog barreling down on her, teeth bared.

  “You know Seth Winston . . . and his hand?”

  Meredith didn’t turn around, but she nodded. The man ran a store near her father’s school. He only had three fingers on his right hand.

  “Travis Archer shot them two fingers clean off when Winston tried to pay a call after old man Archer died. Woulda done worse if Winston hadn’t hightailed it outta there as fast as he did. And don’t think you’d be safe just ’cause you’re a girl. They peppered Miss Elvira’s buggy with buckshot when she came to collect the young ones to take them to the homes she’d found for them. Nearly put her eye out.”

  “At least . . .” Meredith’s throat seemed to close. She forced a little cough and tried again. “At least they weren’t hurt too bad.”

  “Only because they escaped.” Hiram came up beside her and spoke directly into her ear. “Five other men weren’t so lucky. They came out here at different times, each with hopes of buying the Archer spread. None of them were ever seen again.” Hiram paused, and Meredith couldn’t fight off the shivers his words provoked. “Their bodies are probably buried somewhere out there.”

  Something rustled just beyond the pines. Meredith jumped.

  Hiram laughed.

  She should go home. Just leave the
pail and go home. Mama would understand . . . but she’d be disappointed.

  “I dare you,” Hiram said, finally drawing Meredith’s attention. “I dare you to go after that tin.”

  “Don’t do it, Meri,” Anna Leigh begged.

  “Oh, she won’t. She’s too scared.” Hiram’s cocky grin resurrected Meredith’s pride.

  Crossing her thin arms over her chest, she glared up at him. “I’ll get it. Just see if I don’t.”

  The girls behind her gasped, and even Hiram looked a bit uneasy, which only served to bolster Meredith’s determination. She marched to the tree line, turned back for one last triumphant glance at the stunned Ellis boys, and dashed off in the direction the pail had disappeared. Her shoes crunched on fallen pine needles and twigs as she ran, her breath echoing loudly in her ears as she huffed up the hill.

  She stopped at the top and clutched her aching side as she scanned the ground for her lunch bucket. Something shiny glinted in the sunlight down and to the left. Meredith smiled and hurried forward. This isn’t so tough.

  Her fingers closed around the handle of the battered tin, but when she turned to head back, the hill blocked her view of the road. Suddenly feeling very isolated, she bit her lip as forest noises echoed around her. A twig snap to her left. A rustle to her right. Then from somewhere in the distance behind her, a dog barked.

  The Archer hounds!

  Meredith fled, scrambling up the hill. But the sandy soil was too loose. Her feet kept slipping. She clawed at the ground with her fingers, to no avail.

  Another bark sounded. Closer this time.

  Meredith gave up on the hill and just started running away from the barking. The slope gradually lessened, and she spotted a flat section up ahead where the pines turned back toward the road. Aiming for the opening, she veered between the trees.

  As she looked up to gauge how close she was to the road, her right foot hit something metallic. A loud crack rent the air a second before a pair of steel jaws snapped closed on her leg.

  “Good girl, Sadie.” Travis Archer folded his wiry adolescent frame as he hunkered down and stroked the half-grown pointer. “We might turn you into a huntin’ dog yet.”

  She still barked too much when she got excited, frightening off the game, but she’d successfully pointed a rabbit and held when he called whoa, so even though the hare scurried away before he could get in position to shoot, Travis was proud of the pup’s progress.

  “Let’s try again, girl. Maybe we’ll find some quail for you to flush. Jim’s getting tired of fixin’ squirrel mea—”

  An agonized scream cut Travis off and raised the hair on his arms. He hadn’t heard a cry like that since his mother died birthin’ Neill.

  Sadie barked and took off like a shot. Travis called for her to stop, but the pup ignored his command and ran west—toward the road. Snatching up his rifle, he gave chase. If a new threat had wandered onto Archer land, he’d do everything in his power to protect his brothers.

  The barking intensified, and it sounded as if Sadie had stopped. Travis slowed his pace and brought his rifle into position against his shoulder. It wouldn’t be the first time some greedy land grabber tried to draw him out, thinking four boys were easy pickings. He might not be full grown, but he was man enough to defend what was his. No one was going to drive him and his brothers out. No one.

  Travis wove through the narrow pines, catching a glimpse of Sadie’s black coat. He recognized the spot. It was one of several places he’d hidden coyote traps. He’d posted warning signs, but some idiots were too cocky for their own good. Hardening himself against any pity he might feel for the interloper, Travis fingered the trigger on his rifle and stepped around the last tree that stood between him and his target.

  “Hands where I can see ’em, mister, or I’ll put a bullet in . . .” The threat died on his lips.

  A girl?

  Horror swept over him, loosening his grip on the rifle. The barrel dipped toward the ground.

  “D-don’t shoot. P-p-please.” The girl turned liquid blue eyes on him. “I didn’t m-m-mean any harm.” Her tearstained face stabbed him with guilt as she bravely tried to swallow her sobs.

  “I ain’t gonna shoot you.” Travis relaxed his stance and set the weapon aside. “See?” He held his palms out and took a cautious step toward the girl sitting sideways beneath the tree. “I thought you were someone else. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Although judging by the blood staining the edge of her ruffled pantalets, he already had.

  “W-what about your d-dog?” She eyed Sadie as if the pup were some kind of hellhound.

  “Sadie, heel.” The pointer quit barking and padded over to Travis’s side. He motioned for her to stay, then gingerly approached the frightened girl. “I’m gonna get that trap off your leg. All right?”

  She sucked in her bottom lip, her eyes widening as he approached, but she nodded, and something inside Travis uncoiled. He’d no idea what he would’ve done if she’d gone all hysterical on him. Thankfully, this gal seemed to have a decent head on her shoulders. Travis smiled at her and turned his attention to the trap.

  His stomach roiled. The thing was clamped above the ankle of her right leg. She whimpered a bit when he reached for the spring mechanisms on either side of the trap, no doubt anticipating more pain. The metal chain clanked as she moved.

  “Try to keep still,” he instructed. “Even when the trap opens, don’t pull yourself free. Wait for me to help you. Your leg might be broken, and we don’t want to do anything to make it worse. Understand?”

  Another brave little nod.

  Travis grabbed the release springs and was about to compress them when the girl spoke.

  “Can I . . . hold on to you?”

  Closing his eyes for a second, Travis swallowed, then gave a nod of his own. “Sure, kid.”

  Her hands circled his neck as he bent over her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

  He cleared his throat. “Ready?”

  The side of her face rubbed against his upper arm. “Mm-hmm.”

  Travis pressed the spring levers with a firm, steady pressure until the trap’s jaw released. Once it clicked back into its open position, he gently removed her foot from the trap.

  “I need to check your leg to see how bad it is.” Her arms still around his neck, Travis rotated her until her back brushed the tree trunk. “Rest here.”

  He eased away from her hold and lifted the edge of her pantalets a few inches up her shin. The skin had been broken, and there was a deep indentation where the steel had clamped her leg, but she’d had the good sense to keep still, so the bleeding was minimal. There seemed to be swelling and discoloration around the indentation, though, and that worried Travis.

  “Can you move your foot?”

  The girl flexed her foot and immediately hissed in pain. “It hurts.” Her voice broke on a muted sob.

  “Just be still, then.” Travis gritted his teeth. Probably a fracture. “I’m gonna look for some sticks to splint your leg with, and then I’ll get you home. All right? Don’t worry.”

  On his deathbed, his father had made him swear never to leave Archer land, to protect it and his younger brothers at all cost. And Travis had done exactly that for the last two years. But today, he was going to have to break his promise. He had to make things right with this little girl. Had to get her home.

  Travis stood and scoured the ground for splint-worthy sticks while silently vowing that, before he went home, he’d spring every stinking trap on his property. No way was he going to run the risk of something like this happening again. He’d thought that any troublemakers who found themselves snagged would be able to free themselves with a minimum of fuss and leave with a sore leg to remind them not to return. The traps were too small to do significant damage to a man’s leg, especially through the thick boots most of them wore. But a child? A girl? Travis never even considered such a scenario.

  By the time he made his way back to the tree, the girl had composed herself. �
��What’s your name?” he asked, thinking to distract her as he fit the splint to her leg.

  “Meredith.”

  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tied it firmly around the sticks just below her knee. “I’m Travis.”

  “You’re Travis?” She said it with such disbelief that he stopped what he was doing to stare at her. She blushed and stammered. “I just . . . uh . . . thought you’d be meaner or bigger or . . . or something.”

  Travis shook his head and chuckled softly. “That’s exactly what I want people to think. Me and my brothers are safer that way.”

  He looked around for something else to use to tie the bottom of the splint. Finding nothing, he took out his pocket knife and used the point to tear a hole in the seam at his left shoulder. Then he yanked until the sleeve pulled free and slid it down over his hand. He knelt back down and fastened it into place around her ankle.

  “You know what you could do for me, Meredith?”

  “What?”

  He made sure the knot was tight, then smiled up at his patient. “When you get back and your friends start asking you questions, make me sound as big and mean as possible. The fact that I helped you get home can be our secret. Okay?”

  Her eyes glowed with something besides pain, and she actually smiled. The weight dragging on his conscience lightened.

  “Grab onto my neck again—I’m going to pick you up.” Travis shifted to her side and maneuvered an arm under her knees.

  “Wait! I need my tin.”

  He pulled back. “Your what?”

  “My lunch tin. Hiram threw it into the trees. That’s why I came onto your land in the first place. I can’t go back without it.” She twisted and tried to reach behind her.

  “Hold still,” Travis barked, not wanting her to hurt herself. “I’ll fetch it.” He grabbed the beat-up pail and handed it to her. Meredith cradled it to her middle, and Travis decided that if he ever met this Hiram person, he’d find another pail and give the numskull a wallop or two upside the head.

  Travis slid his arms around Meredith and lifted her from the ground. The little warrior never cried out, just tightened her grip on his neck as he pushed to his feet. He examined the ground for the smoothest path to the road, even when it meant going out of his way. It was crazy, really—this urge to protect her. He’d spent the two years since his father died building barriers to keep the outside world out. But when this slip of a girl looked at him with trust blazing in her bright blue eyes, all he could think about was protecting the one piece of the outside world that had found a way in.