Homespun Bride

“Rob!” Henrietta scolded above the sudden staccato of her steps. “How can you offer Mr. McKaslin a job? It’s as if he isn’t successful in his own right.”

Noelle could hardly hear anything above the panicked rush in her ears. Surely, Thad would not accept Robert’s offer. He had no interest in anything permanent, she was certain.

Thad’s friendly chuckle rumbled with amusement. “Pardon me, ma’am, but do I look successful to you? I’m a simple cowboy, nothing more.”

Noelle fisted her hands around the hem of the lap blanket. A simple cowboy? He had never been that.

“You can’t fool me, son,” Robert answered. “You are a born horseman. I’ve never seen anyone calm down a horse as fast as you calmed the stallion this morning in my stable. You must make your living training horses.”

Noelle felt as cold as the rising wind as she waited for Thad’s answer, although her heartbeat filled her ears so loudly, she didn’t know if she would be able to hear him when he answered. She turned toward where he’d been standing on the boardwalk and wished she wasn’t wondering. Wished she didn’t want to know the pieces of his life and if he’d found his dream without her.

“No, sir,” Thad said at last, his baritone heavy with regret. “I’ve been making my way as a drover. Riding cattle is hard work but it pays well enough.”

“Cattle!” There was no mistaking the excitement in Robert’s voice.

Noelle gulped in a bite of air, feeling oddly lost. She wasn’t sure if it was worse to know Thad hadn’t lived out his dreams than hoping he’d found them without her.

“I imagine that’s a hard life, living on the trail,” Robert went on to say. “Imagine you’ve gained a lot of experience.”

“Yes, sir. I’m a good all-around man. I know my way around a cattle ranch. I mostly rode cattle. Spent March through October in the saddle on the trail.”

She hadn’t known she was holding her breath until the air rushed out of her lungs. Riding cattle? Was that what he left her for? To live a cowboy’s life wandering from job to job far away from his responsibilities to his family and his promises to her?

Maybe she hadn’t forgiven him as much as she’d thought. Shame filled her. There was this hardness in her heart she hadn’t realized was there. She shivered beneath the layers of wool and flannel she wore. Determined, she tucked the sheepskin-lined robe covering her lap neatly around her and anchored it so the wind wouldn’t creep beneath it. It didn’t help. She still felt as cold as a mountain glacier.

Thad’s words, calmly spoken, continued to ring in her ear. “Yes, I did like it very much. It’s a tough life. Not as romantic as the dime novels make it seem.”

“I should think not!” Henrietta humphed as she marched up to the sleigh, her steps quick and confident. “Not at all a preferable livelihood.”

Judging by her uncle’s chuckle, he was completely amused. “I keep telling my wife that it’s the mark of a man how he handles hardship, not what he does for a living.”

“Robert! You know that I don’t completely disagree with you.” By the sound of her voice, half shocked and half smiling, Henrietta was probably shaking her head fondly at her husband.

She could also imagine Thad standing quietly, hands on his hips, in that patient way of his.

“Riding cattle.” Robert sounded impressed. “Now, that’s excitement. Is it like they say? Singing the cattle to sleep and using your saddle for a pillow?”

“I mostly use my saddlebag, as it’s a might softer.” Thad’s baritone rang with an equal amusement.

That was the sound she recognized—the ring of Thad’s easy, warm, good humor. If she’d met him anywhere else, and not in a blizzard with fear thrumming in her ears, she would have recognized him no matter what.

“A saddlebag, eh? That doesn’t sound much better. I suppose it’s true what they say about the dust in the air and those long hot days.”

She waited for Thad’s answer, realizing that the lid on her heart was a little ajar. Had Thad found whatever he’d been looking for? Down deep, beyond her disillusion and her hurt, she truly hoped he had.

“Sir, that doesn’t begin to capture it. Hundred degrees in the shade, a herd of cattle, say anywhere from a hundred to a thousand kicking up dust, why, it makes a Montana blizzard look like a clear day.”

“That does not sound quite as thrilling. I imagine there’s a lot of gain to that lifestyle despite its hardships. Sleeping under the stars must be nice.”

“It surely does make for a good night’s sleep. Nothing like having the heavens and the wonder there for your roof.”