Homespun Bride

She took one step, and he moved to her side to block the worst of the wind and snow. And the way he towered beside her made recognition shiver through her.

I don’t want it to be him, she thought, her stomach tightening even more. But just because she didn’t want it to be Thad, didn’t mean it wasn’t. She took another step. “Should I know you?”

“Not really,” his comforting baritone rumbled.

“When a man saves a woman’s life, well, two women’s, she likes to know what name to call her rescuer when she thanks him.”

“Maybe some things are better left a mystery.” Friendly, that’s what his voice was and cozy, the way a fire crackling in the hearth was cozy. “Careful, now. There’s a deep drift coming up.”

His grip tightened on her and he responded so quickly and gallantly, he must have thought she was truly helpless. It was a common misconception. “Don’t worry,” she said, easily correcting her balance. “I’ve gotten used to tottering around. I’m fine.”

“The snow drifts high here. Lift your steps a little higher,” he said with concern.

Concern she didn’t need, not from him. She tried to concentrate on feeling her way over the crest of the snowdrift with the toe of her shoe. Her feet were numb from cold, making it only a little more difficult.

“You do this very well.”

She recognized the surprise in his words. “When I lost my sight, I realized I had two options. To see it as a reason to give up or as a reason to go on. Of course, I walk into a few walls and catch my toe on the top of snowdrifts, but I do all right.”

“I’ll say.”

She could feel the flat level of the brick stone walkway that her uncle kept carefully cleared. Snow had accumulated on it, but not more than a few inches, and the walking was easier. She released her rescuer’s arm. “Thank you, but I can get in from here.”

“No, I should see you to the door.”

“You’ve done enough all ready.”

“But you’re blind.”

“Yes, but I’m not incapable.”

“No, I see that.” What did he say to that? Thad didn’t have the slightest notion. It was breaking his heart in every way. He cleared his throat to ask the question most troubling him. “How long have you been like this?”

“Tripping in the snow? Or blind, do you mean?”

“I’m sorry for your loss of sight.” Her smile was still the same, he realized, modest and sweet as the finest sugar, and how it transformed her lovely face the way dawn changed the night sky. But something had changed. She no longer held the power to render him a love-struck fool. No, he thought stoically, her smile had no effect on him whatsoever.

“It’s been over four years, now.”

“Four years?” That surprised him. He’d been gone just about five.

“I hit my head when our buggy rolled and I lost my sight. It wasn’t the worst thing I lost. My parents were killed.”

“I—I’m sorry to hear that.” It surprised him that the venom he’d felt for Noelle’s parents vanished. Whatever they had done to him aside, they had loved their daughter dearly. She was their greatest treasure. Hard to blame them for it; harder now that they were gone.

The venom had died but not the bitterness. It was hard to keep it buried where it belonged. “I guess that had to be hard for you.”

A single nod, nothing more.

His feelings aside, he knew it had to have been an unbearable loss for her. She had loved her parents deeply, which was one reason why he’d made the decision he did five years ago and why they stood together now as strangers. The only decision he could have made.

Despite her condition, she looked well. Very well. Soft lamplight glowed from the wide windows, gilding her in light. Snow had gathered like tiny pieces of grace on her hood. She looked beautiful, more lovely than ever. Vibrant and womanly in a way he’d never seen her before.

She’s happy, he realized with a punch that knocked the air from his lungs and every last speck of regret from his heart. He’d done the right thing in leaving. Her father, rest his soul, had been right.

He didn’t like what that decision had done to him, but he’d learned a hard lesson from it. Be wary of the woman you give your heart to.

He took a moment to capture one last look of her, happy and lovely and matured into a sweetheart of a woman. Knowing this only made him feel colder. Glad for her, but cold in the way of the blizzard baring its teeth.

“Won’t you come in? You must be half frozen.” Concern was there on her face for the stranger she thought he was. “Come in and warm up. We have beef soup and hot tea.”

“Can’t. My horse is standing in this cold.”

“You could put him in our stable.”

“No.” Would she still ask him in if she knew who he was? What did she think about the man who’d broken his promise to elope with her? Did she even remember him?

Probably not. The bitterness in him won out, but it wasn’t only bitterness he felt. That old tenderness, a hint of it, remained. No longer a romantic tenderness; that had been surely destroyed, but his feeling of goodwill surprised him once more.

He lifted her free hand, small and disguised by her woolen glove. He knew by memory, still, the shape of her hand from all the times he’d held it in his own. It was with well wishes for her future that he pressed a gentleman’s kiss to the back of her hand.

“Now that I’ve got you and your aunt home safe and sound, I’ve done my good deed for the day.”

“Only one good deed per day?” She withdrew onto the brick walk. “You remind me of an old beau of mine.”

“Pardon me, but he couldn’t have been the brightest fellow. I can’t imagine any man passing you by.”

“I must be mistaken, then.” She shook her head. Why had she been so sure? But as she swiped the snow out of her eyes, she realized he hadn’t answered her question. “How long have you lived in Angel County?”

“I, uh, just moved back to the area. Haven’t been here long.”

So, it was as she thought. The voice she remembered had been an eighteen year-old’s voice, manly, yes, but still partly boyish, too, not in full maturity. This man’s voice was deeper and confident and wholly masculine, but still, it was Thad’s.

“Miss, you take care of yourself. No more riding behind runaway horses.”

“I think my uncle will see to that.”

“Where is your husband? Shouldn’t he be the one seeing to your safety?”

“My husband? No. I’ve never married.” Was he moving away? The wind was gathering speed so she couldn’t hear him move. “The blizzard is growing worse. You can’t go out in that.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me, Noelle.”

Noelle. The way his baritone warmed like wild honey around her name made her absolutely certain. “Thad?”

But there was no answer, just the moan of the wind and the hammering of snow falling with a vengeance. It pounded everywhere, on the top of her hood, on the front of her cloak, on the steps at her feet, and the sound deceived her.

Had he already disappeared into the storm? She couldn’t tell. She stood alone, battered by howling wind and needle-sharp snow, feeling seventeen again. Those feelings of love and heartbreak and regret were a lifetime ago. She’d had enough of all three these past years to last her a lifetime. She knew it was foolish of her to wonder about Thad McKaslin now. He had rejected her, too.