Short-Straw Bride by Karen Witemeyer Read Free Book Online Page B

barn would cripple them during the winter. Not that it would convince him to sell. Nothing could do that.
    â€œHow many men are coming?” Crockett probed.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Travis tried coming at the question from the back door. “How many men does this fiancé of yours have working for him?”
    Meredith’s head swiveled around, her blue eyes shooting sparks. “He is not my fiancé—never was. And I’d appreciate it if you’d quit referring to him as such.”
    Travis held up his hands in apology. “All right.”
    She inhaled slowly and refocused on her hands. “The man’s name is Roy Mitchell, and I have no idea how many men work for him. He owns a logging company, so I imagine there are a good number in his employ.”
    And they’d be physical men, too. Comfortable in the woods. Not a bunch of city-bred dandies. Travis tapped his thumb against the pine tabletop as his mind spun.
    Crockett cleared his throat. “We’ll have to move the stock out.”
    Travis nodded his agreement. “But we can’t just leave them all in the paddock. If Mitchell’s men get close enough to see that the stock are safe, they might suspect we’re on to them and burn the house instead.”
    â€œWe could tether the draft horses down by the creek.”
    â€œGood idea, Jim. Being near the water will help calm them if fire does break out.” Travis tipped his head up to stare at a rafter in the ceiling, the ordinary view helping him concentrate. “Each of us can keep a saddled mount near our position when we set up a perimeter. That will help spare the tack, the horses, and give us a way to chase the vermin off.”
    â€œWhat about the mule?” Crockett asked. “You know how cranky Samson gets at night. If we try to take him down to the creek bed, he’ll bray his fool head off and give away his position.”
    Travis nodded. Old Samson was as cantankerous as they came. If he wasn’t in his stall come dark, he’d pull a tantrum worse than Neill used to at bath time. “I guess we better leave him in the paddock. Maybe if we keep Jochebed tied out there, too, it’ll keep him calm.” The milk cow occupied the stall next to Samson, so having her close might soothe him. Then again, it might just endanger their milk supply. But he didn’t see as he had much choice. “Two animals outside the barn shouldn’t draw much suspicion.”
    â€œAnd the fodder?” Crockett asked. “I was thinking we could store the contents of the corncrib in the shed.” He turned to Jim. “If that’s all right with you.”
    The shed was Jim’s domain, a workshop for the furniture he made from the walnut, pine, and oak that grew on their land. He was as protective of that space as a squirrel was with a cache of nuts. But he nodded acquiescence, as Travis knew he would. Family needs came first.
    â€œI’ll clear out a space.”
    â€œGood.” With each solution they generated, Travis regained a piece of the control he’d lost when he’d learned of the pending attack. His confidence growing, he posed the last issue. “What about the hay? Any ideas of where to store it?”
    The smokehouse was too small, as were any of the other outbuildings. And if they stacked it in the open, it would prove an easy target for a lit torch. Travis looked to Crockett and then to Jim, but his brother’s faces were as blank as his mind. Silence stretched around the table. The control restored to him was once again slipping from his grasp.
    â€œThe hay wagons that deliver to the liveries in town are always heaped to the sky. Why don’t you load as much as you can into your wagon and drive it down to the creek bed or into the woods somewhere? You can cover it with a tarp for added protection.”
    Three pairs of Archer eyes turned to stare at the female in their midst—a female they