Page 52 of Short-Straw Bride

“Yes.” Meredith lifted her hand to her chest in confirmation. The key hung from a chain around her neck. Its outline was barely discernible to her touch through the layers of her dress and cloak, but she could feel the metal press against her skin.

Knowing what question he’d ask next, she answered before he finished drawing a full breath. “Yes, the rifle is loaded. And yes, I’ll come straight home after the last lesson.”

“You better.” His lips twitched as he struggled to maintain his serious mien. Then before she could react, he grabbed the folds of her cloak and pulled her to him. His lips came down on hers, possessive, demanding, and so intense her knees shook.

“Come home to me, Meri,” he whispered, his voice husky and deep.

“Always.” The single word was all she could manage just then, but she infused it with all the love in her heart.

He’d still made no move to come to her room, not even after that soul-stirring kiss they’d shared down by the creek. He and the rest of the clan had been so busy with rebuilding the barn and driving the cattle to wherever they could find undepleted pasture, that she rarely even spoke to her husband except at meals. But on Saturdays he made a point to see her off. On Saturdays he kissed her. On Saturdays he gave her hope that their marriage could be based on something deeper than hastily spoken vows.

She adored Saturdays.

Travis laced his fingers together and bent to give her a leg up. Meredith reached for the saddle horn, placed her left boot in the stirrup, and put her right into her husband’s keeping. He helped her into the saddle and patted Ginger’s neck as Meredith gathered the reins.

“I’ll be watching for you.” His hat shielded his face from her view as he ran his fingers along the chestnut-and-white pattern of Ginger’s shoulder. His hand reached the cinch, and she thought the daft man was going to check it a fourth time, but he skimmed over the strap and settled instead upon her ankle. The solid presence of his hand filtered through the leather of her boot top as he assured himself that her foot sat securely in the stirrup. It seemed an intimate, husbandly gesture, and Meredith’s heart swelled. Then his thumb stroked upward and brushed against her stocking. Her breath caught.

He finally lifted his face to hers, and the heated look in his eyes left no doubt in her mind that the touch had been deliberate. “Hurry home.” The words lingered as his gaze melded to hers. Then he stepped back and swatted Ginger lightly on the hindquarters to set her into motion.

The paint’s bouncing trot demanded Meredith’s attention. She turned forward in the saddle and took charge of the animal. Moses called down a farewell from where he and Jim were nailing shingles onto the barn roof, and Meredith raised a hand to wave at them as she rode past. Jim saluted her with a lift of his hammer—a gesture so typical of her stoic brother-in-law that it normally would have brought a smile to her face. But Meredith was too consumed with thoughts of Travis to pay Jim much heed.

Could it be her husband felt something more than protectiveness toward her? More than obligation? She’d let herself believe so when he kissed her, but even then the fantasy didn’t completely dispel the hint of desperation she sensed in him. It was as if he needed to stake his claim on her before he could let her go.

What would it be like to have him kiss her simply out of desire? Out of love? Suddenly Saturdays seemed inadequate. She wanted to be kissed on a Tuesday. No special occasion. No threat to her well-being. Just a warm sharing of affection between a husband and wife. To see that heated look in his eyes again, as if she truly meant more to him than duty.

And what of your vow to be content in your marriage?

The thought brought a swift end to her self-pity.

Forgive me, Lord. I’m turning my mind in the wrong direction, aren’t I? I became so consumed by what I didn’t have that I forgot all about what I do have.

Just like those times when Aunt Noreen’s caustic personality wore her down and bitterness started to leak into her soul. She had to take charge of her thoughts and steer them in a more positive direction. It was time to count her blessings.

One—she was married to the man of her dreams. Two—Travis had allowed her to continue her father’s legacy by teaching at the freedmen’s school. Three—she belonged to a family of godly men who would protect her with their lives. Meredith turned her gaze toward heaven and smiled, the burden on her heart already beginning to lift. She truly was blessed. Just thinking about how far her relationship with Travis had progressed over the last few weeks stirred songs of thanksgiving in her soul. She could only imagine what strides they could make in the next few weeks.

Help me to be patient. To accept your timing.

Her grin widened as the gate came into view. Perhaps one day soon, she would unlock Travis’s heart as easily as she was able to unlock the gate to his land. All she had to do was find the right key. Or become so trusted by him that he unlocked it himself. Wouldn’t that be something?

Buoyed by hope, Meredith slid from the saddle and drew the chain around her neck upward until the gate key freed itself from her clothing. Humming a cheery tune, she made short work of the gate, leading Ginger through and carefully relocking it before climbing atop a nearby stone to remount.

Travis might feel safe behind all his fences and gates, but she aimed to show him that freedom was sweeter. Especially when founded on love.

Urging Ginger into a canter, Meredith leaned forward in the saddle and let the exhilarating rush of the wind tug at her hairpins and sting her cheeks with its frosty bite. If she arrived disheveled and chapped, so be it. Her students understood the significance of freedom. They’d not condemn her for indulging in a spirited ride.

But fifteen minutes later, when she reined Ginger to a walk in front of the schoolhouse, a host of concerned children swarmed from the schoolyard to surround her.

“What done happened to your hair, Miss Meri?”

“Didja fall off your horse?”

“Why was you ridin’ so fast?”

“Was som’un chasin’ you?”

“I’m fine, children,” she assured them, laughter bubbling up to accompany her words. “I simply chose to give Ginger her head today.” She patted the paint’s neck.

When the children continued to press closer, Ginger halted. The horse didn’t seem too perturbed by the crowding, just cautious.