Short-Straw Bride Page 8

  “Awake?” Meredith scrunched her brows together until the throbbing around her skull forced her to relax. “Travis, you’re not making any sense. I can’t be awake. You only come to me when I’m dreaming. Although you’re usually younger and . . . well . . . cleaner, and not so in need of a shave.

  “But don’t get me wrong,” she hurried to assure him. It wouldn’t do to insult her hero. “You’re just as handsome as always. I don’t even mind that you didn’t save me this time. The important thing is that you’re here.”

  She smiled at him, but his grin faded and frown lines appeared above his eyes.

  “Don’t you remember riding out here to warn me about Mitchell? The fire, Meredith. Remember the fire? You were fighting the blaze on your own until me and the boys returned.”

  Something important tugged on the hem of her memory, something she should know. Something Travis expected her to remember. Meredith grew uneasy under the intensity of his stare. He was disappointed in her. She could see it. Disappointed that she couldn’t remember. She had to remember. Travis might leave her if she didn’t. She didn’t want him to leave.

  Despite the pounding in her head, she searched deeper into the foggy recesses of her mind. Images flashed just out of reach. Flames. A line of pots. A gray blanket in her hand. The pieces jumbled in a confusing blur. Then she saw a building. Big. Open. Fire climbing its walls.

  “A barn!” she cried triumphantly. “Your barn was on fire, and I was helping put it out. Right?” She found his hand and grabbed hold. “That’s right, isn’t it? See, you don’t have to leave me, Travis. I can remember. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

  Travis’s face started to swim in front of her and her lashes grew too heavy to keep parted. Her fingers started to loosen their grip on his hand, too, and fear clutched her chest. He was leaving her!

  “Don’t go, Travis. Please.” Her mouth stumbled on the words as darkness descended over her again. “Don’t leave me.”

  Then a firm, warm hand closed over the top of hers and held on with the strength she could no longer muster for herself. “I’m not going anywhere, Meredith. Go ahead and rest. I’ll be here when you wake.”

  Peace settled over her then, and as she slipped back into the darkness, her spirit smiled.

  Travis held Meredith’s hand for several minutes and watched her sleep. Perhaps it was his imagination, but she seemed to be resting more peacefully now than she had before, as if knowing he was there actually brought her comfort. Then again, it probably wasn’t his presence specifically that eased her. She hardly knew him, after all. Most likely she simply didn’t want to be alone, and he was handy. Crockett or even Neill would have filled the bill equally well.

  But, despite the logic of that observation, Travis couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it didn’t ring true. The things Meredith said during their brief, and thoroughly bizarre, conversation had sounded personal. So personal, they’d rattled him. And stirred an odd warmth in him, too.

  Did she really dream about him?

  Travis lowered himself back into the chair he’d placed at the side of the bed and slowly released Meredith’s hand. He fingered his eyes, trying to massage the exhaustion out of them, then rubbed his palms down his face. Whiskers scratched his skin, eliciting a rueful chuckle.

  She was right. He did need a shave.

  A floorboard creaked in the hall, and Travis glanced up to find Crockett—barefooted, pants hastily donned, shirt untucked—standing in the doorway. “I thought I heard voices.”

  “You did.” Travis pushed to his feet and waved him into the room. “Meredith woke a couple minutes ago. She was disoriented and confused, and most of what she said didn’t add up.” He turned his attention from his brother to the woman sleeping in his bed. “Thought she was at home in her own room and didn’t recall the fire until I mentioned it. Even then, she seemed to have to dig real deep to muster any recollections.”

  Travis worked his jaw back and forth, trying to churn up enough courage to ask the question he was afraid to have answered. “You don’t think her mind’s been damaged, do you?”

  “Not permanently, no.” Crockett leaned over the bed and felt Meredith’s head for fever, just as Travis had done earlier, and pivoted to face him. “Confusion and memory loss are to be expected. Her brain took a hard knock. I wouldn’t worry unless she fails to improve after a day or two.”

  “So she’ll be staying with us for a while?”

  “Yep.” A defensive edge crept into Crockett’s voice, as if he expected Travis to argue. “I don’t want her out of bed until we’re sure she’s fully recovered. If we send her on her way too soon, she could succumb to a dizzy spell and fall off her horse or get disoriented and wander from the path only to get lost in the woods. I know you don’t like having strangers here, Travis, but I’m going to have to insist.”

  “Meredith proved herself an ally last night,” Travis conceded. “She can stay as long as is necessary.”

  He cleared his throat, afraid Crockett would sense how easy it was for him to break his own rules where Meredith was concerned. “But as soon as she’s healthy, she has to go. I don’t want a bunch of townsfolk poking around out here because one of their own is missing. It wouldn’t do her any good, either, to be found alone on a ranch with four men.” The last thing he wanted to do was cause Meredith more grief. He’d done enough of that already.

  “Agreed.” Crockett clapped him on the back. “Why don’t you grab a few winks before the sun comes up. I’ll sit with her for a while.”

  Travis shook his head. “No. I promised to be here when she woke, and I aim to keep my word.” He scratched at his stubbly chin and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above his chest of drawers. Haggard was about as kind a description as could be applied to what he saw. Filthy saddle bum painted a truer picture. “I might take a few minutes to clean up a bit, though. I could stand a wash and some fresh clothes.”

  “Yes, you could.” Crockett twisted his face into a look of mock disgust, then broke into a smile. “Go on.” He pushed Travis toward the drawers that held clean trousers and shirts. “She probably won’t wake for a couple hours. You got plenty of time to make yourself pretty.”

  Travis whipped off his sweat-stained shirt and hurled it directly at Crockett’s head. The joker ducked, and the sound of his quiet laughter followed Travis down the hall.

  The next time Meredith woke, the sun was well on its way across the sky. Travis had been dozing in the chair when her quiet moan stirred him. He shifted closer to the bed. Would she be more clearheaded this time?

  “Don’t move too fast,” he warned as she rolled to her side and propped an elbow beneath her. “It’ll make your head ache worse.” He stilled her with a hand to her shoulder.

  “Travis?” She blinked and struggled to fully open her eyes.

  “I’m here, Meredith.”

  She smiled at him then, and the gesture did something funny to his insides. Not wanting to examine the phenomenon too closely, he cleared his throat and reached for the glass of water he’d brought in with him after cleaning up.

  “Are you thirsty?”

  Her eyes instantly lost their peaceful glow. She bit her bottom lip and gave her head a tiny shake. “You have to leave,” she said in a wobbly voice.

  “Leave? Why?” First she’d begged him to stay, and now she wanted him to go. Travis blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. The woman’s confusion must be addling his own mind.

  Her face flushed crimson, and her gaze dropped to somewhere below his chin. “I have to attend to . . . to personal business.” Her voice dipped so low at the end, he had to strain to hear her. Once he deciphered the words, however, an uncomfortable heat crept up his neck.

  “Oh.”

  What in blue blazes was he supposed to do now? She could barely move about in the bed with the pain from her wound. How was she supposed to manage standing and walking about the room? What if she grew dizzy and fell?

 
; Travis clenched his teeth. He’d get her up, but by Jove, she was going to have to find a way to accomplish the rest on her own. Heaven help her.

  Without further discussion, Travis dragged the chamber pot from beneath the bed and set it beside the footboard so that Meredith could hang onto the carved bedpost for balance. He scanned the room for anything else that might be of help, and his eyes lit on the small bag Neill had retrieved from Meredith’s horse last night. Without asking permission, Travis strode over to the bag and rummaged through it. Finding a white cotton nightgown, he draped it across the end of the bed, then dropped the bag on the floor nearby. That way she could reach it should she feel the need.

  By the time he turned back to Meredith, the woman had already pushed herself up to a sitting position and had her legs dangling over the side of the mattress. Deep lines furrowed her brow, and her left hand gingerly cupped the side of her head, but her chin was set and her back straight.

  The woman had grit. If he hadn’t learned that truth last night, watching her power through her pain this morning would’ve proved it.

  Travis rushed to her side and wrapped an arm around her middle. Something pink and lacy winked at him from within the sheets. Recognizing the corset, he loosened his hold on Meredith in order to grab the frilly thing and flip it down to the far corner of the bed. Maybe if she found it with her other belongings, he’d get lucky and her confused mind would assume she’d taken it off herself.

  Cinching his arm back around her ribs, Travis took her weight on himself and slowly raised her to her feet. “Easy now,” he said. “I’ll help you get to the end of the bed.”

  She leaned into his side as they moved slowly toward their goal, her left arm circling his waist. When they reached the bedpost, Meredith released him to grasp the oak column, and Travis found himself missing the contact. He maintained his grip another moment until certain she was secure. Finally, he slackened his hold and slipped his arm free.

  “I’ll be right outside the door.” He ducked his head and shoved his thumbs beneath his suspender straps. “Call out if you need anything.”

  He couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her with her dress half undone, but he heard her quiet “Thank you” as he strode to the doorway.

  Once the door had been pulled closed behind him, he pressed his back into the wall and exhaled a long, slow breath.

  Fifteen minutes later, Meredith called him back into the room. She’d managed to change and crawl back under the covers. Sitting with the blankets held up to her chin, she bit her lip and hid her eyes from him behind lowered lashes.

  “I didn’t want to bother you,” she said softly, “but I couldn’t reach all my hairpins. It hurt too much to twist my head back and forth.”

  Travis crossed the room and, lowering himself beside her, reached for the first pin he could see. She hissed a little when a tangled strand pulled painfully against her injured scalp. Travis scowled. His rancher’s fingers were too thick for this. But who else was gonna do it? Setting his jaw, he reached for another pin. This time she didn’t make a sound as he extracted the thin black wire. His confidence building, Travis searched for more. By the time he found the last one and added it to the pile next to his hip, Meredith’s eyes had closed and her back slumped against his chest.

  Travis eased her down to where her pillow waited. Scooping the discarded pins into his palm, he pushed to his feet only to have the bed groan at the loss of his weight. Meredith’s lashes fluttered open.

  “Travis?” she whispered, her voice groggy.

  “Yes?”

  “You’re the best hero I ever dreamed up.”

  And in that moment, Travis wanted to be more to her than a dreamland hero left over from her childhood. He wanted to be her hero in truth.

  But his wants never came first. His brothers, the land—those were what he swore to protect. And with Meredith’s connection to Mitchell, he couldn’t afford to indulge in selfish whims. No, when Meredith recovered, he’d see she got back where she belonged—far away from him.

  10

  Meredith drifted in and out of sleep most of the day. Each time she woke, she’d ask the same questions: Where was she? What happened? And each time, Travis gave her the same answers. Despite her continued memory trouble, however, her disorientation improved. No more talk of dreams or heroes, for which he was exceedingly grateful. If Crockett had overheard one of those statements, he’d never let Travis live it down. Besides, the less he thought about those early conversations, the better. He had no business trying to be someone’s hero. He had enough to worry about.

  Like the fact that someone was trying to drive him off his land. And because of that, he had no barn, only half the hay stores he’d need for winter, and an injured woman whose presence kept him in the house when he should be out helping his brothers build a temporary shelter for the stock. Travis paced over to the window and raised an arm to cushion his head as he leaned against the wall.

  “I’m sorry about your barn, Travis.” Meredith’s soft voice settled over him like a comfortable, well-worn shirt. He turned and found she had bolstered herself on the extra pillows without his aid and was regarding him with remarkably clear eyes.

  How had she so accurately deciphered his thoughts? He pasted on a smile, not wanting to burden her with his worries, and stepped away from the window. “It’s nothing for you to be sorry about. The boys and I can build another.”

  “But it will cause you hardship. Perhaps if I had gotten here sooner . . .”

  Travis’s mouth hardened into a stern line. “None of the blame belongs on your shoulders, Meredith. Mitchell’s the one responsible. Without your warning, things could’ve been a lot worse.”

  Travis dropped onto the bedside chair ready to scold some more, but it suddenly hit him that she hadn’t asked him her usual questions. “Do you remember what happened?”

  She started to shake her head but stopped with a wince. “Not really. I remember coming out here and helping fight the fire, but I have no memory of you and the others returning or anything else from last night.”

  “Do you recall me explaining how you got injured?”

  “Samson, right?”

  He nodded, and she smiled like a pupil trying to impress her teacher. “You told me when I awakened a while ago.”

  “And four times before that.” A true grin split his face. She was getting better. “I’m glad it finally sank in.”

  Her brows knit in bewilderment. “Four times? How long have I been . . .” She glanced down at the bed, as if only then recognizing the significance of where she was, and slid down on the pillows until the blankets came up to her chin.

  So much for bypassing the awkwardness.

  “It’s nearly suppertime. I’ll have Jim bring you some broth if you think you can manage eating.”

  “Suppertime?” she squeaked. “I was here all night and all day?”

  “And you probably won’t be leaving anytime soon.” Judging by her horrified look, the prospect didn’t exactly thrill her. Well, being chained to a sickroom when he had work to do wasn’t his first choice, either. If he could deal with it, she sure as shootin’ could, too.

  “Look, Meredith. We have no choice in the matter. That lump on the side of your head ain’t there for decoration. You’re seriously hurt. Crockett knows what he’s talking about when it comes to things like this, and he insists that you not leave until you’ve recovered to the point that there’s no chance of you blacking out on the way home or growing so dizzy you fall off your horse. Until now, you couldn’t even remember where you were. No way was I going to dump you outside my gate just because propriety said you shouldn’t be here. Propriety wasn’t kicked by a mule.”

  Travis sucked in a breath and reined in his temper. It was only natural for her to be alarmed. She was in her nightclothes in a strange man’s bed. Any sane woman would protest. It only proved how delirious she’d truly been when she’d rambled on about him being handsome and the hero of her dreams. He
should be thankful for the evidence that she was in her right mind again.

  So why wouldn’t that pang in his chest at the thought of her leaving go away?

  “I understand.” Meredith looked at him with those big eyes of hers and made an effort to clear the trepidation from her face. But when she bit her bottom lip, he knew she still harbored worries.

  “I see our patient’s awake again.” Crockett leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. His trousers and shirt were streaked with soot, but his face and hands glowed from a recent scrubbing. “How are you feeling, Meredith?”

  “Stronger, thank you.” Her lashes remained lowered, and her grip on the blankets tightened.

  Travis moved to the foot of the bed to shield her from his brother’s view. “She remembers things, too,” he said. “Not everything, but enough that I don’t have to repeat explanations.”

  “Well, that’s good news.” Crockett angled his head past Travis and projected his voice across the room. “Another couple days of rest, and you should be up and about.”

  Meredith’s quiet moan was all the catalyst Travis needed. He strode to the doorway and, taking Crockett by the shoulders, manually pointed him toward the kitchen.

  Crockett resisted, concern creeping into his voice. “Is she in pain?”

  “Only if she moves.” Travis strong-armed his brother into the hall. “Why don’t you get her some of that soup Jim’s heating up? She hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

  Crockett pulled out of Travis’s hold and turned on him. “What’s wrong with you?” he hissed. “You’re acting as if you think I’m going to hurt her or something.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just . . .” Travis let out a heavy breath. “She’s not too pleased about having to prolong her stay, and your reminders aren’t easing her worries none.”

  Crockett jutted his chin. “Well, she’s going to have to get used to the idea, because I’m not letting her leave until I’m sure—”