Short-Straw Bride by Karen Witemeyer Page B

stockpots. When she finished, an entire line of vessels stood ready to extinguish and douse. Meredith nodded in satisfaction and headed back to the kitchen.
    From the window, she could barely make out the dark outlines of the trough and bucket line she’d put together, but knowing it was there filled her with a sense of accomplishment. It was odd, really, the protectiveness that welled in her whenever she thought of the barn burning. She’d been on Archer land less than two hours, but a strange sense of belonging flowed through her when she looked out over the yard.
    â€œI know your men are coming, Roy,” she whispered to the darkness, “but I’m going to fight you with everything I’ve got.”
    The sound of the front door opening and the heavy thumping of booted feet turned Meredith’s attention away from the window. Wrapping a dish towel around her hand, she grabbed the coffeepot she’d put on earlier and started pouring the steaming brew into cups.
    As the coffee worked its way up the sides of the fourth cup, Meredith became aware of a complete lack of sound coming from the men. She tipped back the pot and cautiously glanced up. All four Archers stood bunched in the doorway staring at her as if they’d never seen a woman pour coffee before.
    â€œI thought you’d like something to warm your insides before you set out. The night will be cold, and there’s no telling how long you’ll be out there.” She smiled as she fought to control the nervous tickle in her stomach.
    Finally Travis stepped forward and accepted a cup from her. “Thanks.” His gaze met hers, and a warmth that had nothing to do with coffee penetrated her.
    Meredith ducked her head and grabbed another cup, handing coffee to Crockett, Jim, and then Neill. Each man murmured his thanks and dipped his head in deference, but none of them inspired the same quivery feelings as their brother.
    Careful, Meredith. You’re going home after this. Don’t be leaving your heart behind with a reclusive cowboy whose life has no room for you.
    â€œI brought Sadie to keep you company while we’re out.” Travis gave a low whistle and a big black dog pushed her way past the Archer legs blocking the doorway. Her nails clicked against the wood floor, and her stiff gait stirred Meredith’s sympathy. At a motion from Travis, the animal padded over to Meredith and sat down.
    â€œThis is Sadie? The ferocious pup I thought was going to chew me to a pulp?” Meredith grinned at the slightly arthritic dog and bent to pat her head. Sadie’s tail swished across the floor in friendly response. “Now that I’m bigger and you’re older, you’re not nearly as frightening.”
    â€œFrightening? Sadie?” Neill scoffed. “She’s just a retired bird dog. Who’d be afraid of her ?”
    â€œNeill.” Travis spoke the name like a warning.
    Meredith laughed softly. “That’s all right.” She hunkered down and rubbed the dog more thoroughly along her neck and sides. “Anyone can tell that Sadie is a loyal, sweet-spirited animal. But to a ten-year-old girl with an overactive imagination, who had stories of the vicious man-eating Archer hounds ringing in her ears, Sadie’s enthusiasm was easily misinterpreted.”
    â€œMan-eating Archer hounds? What kind of nonsense—”
    â€œNever mind about that, Neill.” Travis cut off his question. “We have other issues to deal with. Grab your coat and mount up.”
    Neill complied, followed by Jim and Crockett, leaving Meredith alone in the kitchen with Travis. He shuffled his feet for a moment, then thunked his coffee cup down on the table. “Sadie might be old,” he said, his gaze not quite meeting hers, “but she’s a good watchdog. She’ll bark if she hears anything, so keep her close at hand.”
    â€œI will.” Giving Sadie a final pat, Meredith