Page 6 of Short-Straw Bride

Then, when the waiter arrived with their entrées, blessedly interrupting the Ode to the Big Thicket’s Virgin Pine, Meredith slipped in a question about what he liked to read. Roy smiled and confidently assured her that he much preferred to experience things firsthand rather than read someone else’s view on the subject.

“For example,” he said as he leaned across the table in obvious enthusiasm, “I’ve made careful study of the lands here on the edge of the Piney Woods. Acres of forest stand virtually untouched, just waiting for the right man with the right vision to capitalize on the opportunity. Reading books only teaches a person about the past. I’m a man who looks to the future.”

He went on to describe how his forward thinking led him to line up a handful of investors to supply capital for the manpower and equipment he’d need to expand his small logging operation. All he lacked were a few parcels of land that would allow him direct access to the railroad. And those he would soon have in his possession.

Desperate by the dessert course, Meredith broke all the etiquette rules her mother had taught her and asked about religion, questioning Roy about the role he expected God to play in his expansion plans. The man chuckled and offered some sort of platitude about God helping those who helped themselves before he tucked into his apple pie.

The meal could not have left her more disheartened. She supposed Roy was simply attempting to convince her of his ability to provide for a wife, but what he’d succeeded in doing instead was paint a dreary picture of the two of them sitting on a porch, staring at a field of tree stumps with no fodder for conversation because all the virgin pines were gone.

“Are you ready to go, my dear?”

Meredith blinked. “Oh . . . yes.” She dabbed her lips with her napkin and smiled up at Roy as he hurried around the table to assist her with her chair. “Thank you for a lovely meal. I don’t often get to eat in such elegant surroundings.”

“That will change once we’re married. As my wife, you’ll dine in the finest establishments in the state. Houston, San Antonio, even the capital.”

“Mmmm.” Meredith couldn’t seem to vocalize anything more committal as Roy helped her on with her shawl and escorted her from the hotel dining room.

The two strolled down the boardwalk in front of the International Hotel in silence, and for the first time since leaving her uncle’s house, Meredith relaxed. Maybe being with Roy wasn’t so bad after all. His firm grip steadied her uneven gait, and the people they passed didn’t look through her as they usually did. Men tipped their hats and women gazed at her with new respect. Being on Roy Mitchell’s arm apparently made her a person worth noticing.

But did it make her the person she wanted to be?

A hat in the milliner’s window caught Meredith’s eye, and she slowed. Ever the gentleman, Roy steered her closer to the shop, but she found it nearly impossible to concentrate on the bonnet, for she could feel him scrutinizing her face.

“Have you given much thought to my proposal, Miss Hayes?”

Meredith’s stomach lurched. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.

He released her arm and placed his palm in the small of her back. “I confess, I have thought of little else,” he murmured.

The warmth of his hand penetrated her clothing, but the intimate touch left her chilled.

Lord, I need a sign here. A hint. Anything.

“Mr. Mitchell?”

Roy’s hand fell away from her back as he turned to face the burly man approaching him from the street. “Now’s not a good time, Barkley.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but it’s important.”

Roy held his hand out to Meredith, and she took it, letting him drag her to his side. “Nothing could be more important than what I’m doing right now.”

What he was doing right now was pressing her for an answer she was unprepared to give. Mr. Barkley’s interruption could not have pleased her more.

“I don’t mind, Roy,” she said. “Truly.”

Roy patted her hand. “Nonsense. I’m sure whatever Barkley has to say can wait until after I see you home.”

“But he says it’s important,” she insisted, praying he’d do the unchivalrous thing for once. “I’d hate to be the cause of a delay that ended up hurting your business ventures.”

Roy hesitated. He glanced back to where Mr. Barkley stood shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Can it wait an hour?”

“You . . . ah . . . you said you wanted to be informed the minute Wheeler returned with an answer, boss.” The man finally looked Roy directly in the eye, and a silent message seemed to pass between them. “He’s back.”

Meredith held her breath as Roy battled with himself over which course to choose. Then he squeezed her hand, and she knew she’d been granted a reprieve.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but this really is an urgent matter. I promise not to be long.”

“Take as much time as you need.” Meredith slipped her hand from his loose hold and wandered back toward the shop window. “I wanted to examine the new bonnets more closely anyway.”