Homespun Bride

by Jillian Hart

  “I think we’re alone now.” She paused to listen. “Yes, we are. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

  “Uh-oh. That sounds plenty serious.”

  “You have no notion of just how much.” She reached out to him, her sensitive fingertips finding first the air, then the edge of his sleeve. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to bring me to see Stormy. Robert asked me and he was so excited to be feeling well enough to venture out here. I didn’t have the heart to turn him down.”

  “Sure. I understand that. The question is, do you have the heart to turn me down.”

  “Turn you down? Why ever would I—” She paused, tilting her head to the side to listen closely. “I hear something. A clink of metal.”

  “Yep.”

  “What are you up to, Thad McKaslin?” There was rustling, too.

  His chuckle thrummed through her spirit like a harp string. “Guess. It was something you used to love to do. I found this out, and so I asked you for our first—”

  “—date,” she finished as the clank-clank came again. What did he have there? Probably it had something to do with the stables and horses, but for the life of her, the high-noted, pleasant steely sound made her think of one thing. “That can’t be ice skates.”

  They clanked again. “And exactly why is that so impossible? I brought your old pair from home. It seems they were still in the barn where I’d left a few things.”

  “The skates you’d bought for me.” Pleasure filled her up like a warm sip of hot cocoa. “I spent many an hour twirling on one pond or another while you patiently froze on the bank.”

  “I didn’t see it that way. I always figured it was a privilege just to be with you.”

  “Still a sweet-talker after all this time.”

  “Hey, it’s only the truth, but I’m glad you think so.”

  Was that a smile in his voice? It was, she was sure of it, warm and sweetly handsome. She sighed a little, remembering how captivated she used to be by the sight of his smile—and now, by the sound and feel of it.

  “Come take my arm,” he offered, his baritone resonant with warmth and promise. “Let me take you out on the ice.”

  “To skate?” A sweet longing filled her with a sweet force. Longing to be twirling on the ice once again, she told herself firmly—and not longing to spend time with Thad.

  Or was it?

  With his hand firmly on hers, he coaxed her toward the back door. “You used to be a good skater.”

  “Yes, but I’m likely to fall on my nose. Or worse. It might be a complete disaster.”

  “I’ll keep that from happening, I promise. I’ll be right there with you, seeing for you.”

  How could she keep from caring for Thad now? Every beat of her heart grew stronger because of his words, his presence and the promise that made her feel free again.

  “I’ll never let you fall.” He used that wondrous voice of his against her, replete with humor and unspoken dreams. Quiet, secret dreams that had her heart opening and her wishes coming to life.

  Wishes she could not give life to.

  He guided her along the uneven path with a gentle hand—not a domineering one—on her elbow.

  “Sit here.” His baritone dipped low. With quiet tenderness, he helped her settle on the garden bench.

  She hardly noticed the cold trying to seep in through her layers of wool and flannel. The burn of the wind, the twitter of winter birds and the scent of wood smoke on the air faded away. There was only the crunch of snow beneath his boots, the rustle of his clothes as he knelt before her. His scent of hay and horseflesh and leather and his soothing presence was all she could think about. All she could notice.

  He lifted her right foot onto his knee, and emotions that had sat like a heavy lump in her chest began to unravel, one aching thread at a time.

  She could no longer hold back the question that had been troubling her. “I think I know why you ran off instead of marrying me and why you left me behind.”

  The ice skate slipped from his fingers. “Let’s leave the past where it belongs.”

  “I’m not speaking about the past. I’m talking about this moment. Right now. What’s happened between us since you’ve come back.”

  “There’s no sense in digging up what’s done.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me, Noelle. It’s for the best if we don’t talk about this.” He shook the snow off the skate and fit it to her shoe. All he wanted to do was to keep her safe and happy and thriving. It was the only way he was allowed to love her.

  And love her he did, with all the broken pieces of his heart and all the lost pieces of his soul. He was more than the nineteen-year-old boy he’d once been, and his love was more now, too. Fuller. Deeper. More everlasting.

  More selfless. Which was why he took a long drink of the sight of her, savoring each careful detail. The heart-shape of her lovely face, her high cheekbones and sweetly chiseled chin, her jeweled emerald eyes, her cinnamon hair, her creamy complexion, her delicate features, her small slender hands that felt so dear when he held them in his own.

  He reached for the second skate. “I need your other foot.”

  “You’ve taken over my uncle’s responsibilities around the house and yard.” She switched feet, allowing him to take her left foot in his hands. “You’ve gone beyond your duty as our stableman. You’re the kind of man who does the right thing, who works hard, who can always be counted on.”

  “I take my work seriously, is all.”

  “No, you are the boy I fell in love with, and you’ve always been the man you are now. I see you, Thad. All of you.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. Her words were an answered prayer. If he’d ever had one for himself, it was this. For her to see that he was the kind of man who would never hurt her, who would always do what he could for her greatest happiness. Without condition. Without end.

  He clamped the blade into place on her shoe and checked to make sure it was on good and tight. He ignored the chill seeping through the knees of his denims and the gnawing of regret.

  She reached forward as easily as if she saw him, and her fingertips brushed the collar of his coat, then the scarf at his throat and finally cupped his jaw. “You left me thinking something had happened to you. You left me waiting, stubbornly believing in you. Even after I learned you’d left the county for good, it took me a long time to give up believing that you had to leave for some reason and you would be coming back to me. That’s how strongly I believed in you. In noble, good, unfailing you.”

  My dear, beloved Noelle. He pressed his jaw against the fuzzy sweetness of her gloved hand. Here was the chance he’d always wished for—to tell the truth, to right the wrong and win her back. He gently moved away and climbed to his feet.

  There was nothing more precious to him in all the world, and there never would be. Her loveliness was something he would never tire of, the sight that would refresh his weary heart the most. She was everything good and womanly and rare in this world, and the heart of his deepest dream come true. A dream he would not hurt for any reason.

  Her happiness was more important than anything he could ever want for himself. Maybe bringing her here, where mist swirled around the frozen pond like lost dreams, hadn’t been the best idea. “You might think that breaking my promise to you that night came pretty easy.”

  “It had once been my impression.”

  “I can honestly say it was the hardest decision I ever made.”

  “I understand that now.” She held out her hand, confident that he would take it, that he wouldn’t leave her sitting alone in her darkness.

  He took her hand to guide her. She rose lightly to her feet, balancing easily on her blades, and he tried not to notice the thud of his heart hitting his soul. He loved her more. He’d been a fool to think he had ever stopped loving her. The love he had for her had not vanished. It had simply bided its time, quiet and dormant as the trees in winter, waiting for spring to come.


  The dreams he’d given up on were there, alive after all. He swallowed hard against the pressure building in his chest. “I did what I thought was best at the time. I hate that I left you waiting and hoping. I know what I did came at a cost, but I did what I had to do, what I thought was right.”

  “I know that.” Her emerald eyes, her face, her voice, her manner all shone with that truth. “My father forced you out of town, didn’t he?”

  The blood in his veins stilled. How did she know? Had she guessed? And if she had, if she knew the truth, there was the temptation to tell her the rest of it. But was it the right thing to do? He could not seem to move, although her skirts whispered as she stood, wobbling on the thin blades. He caught hold of her, keeping her steady when he was the unsteady one.

  Forgiveness. It shone in her emerald eyes and radiated in her smile. The way she turned to him, the way she trusted him meant more to him than anything in the world.

  “I know how you loved your folks, Noelle. I can’t ruin their memory for you.”

  “You won’t. Whatever they did, they did out of love. That’s what you did, too.”

  She understood. An enormous weight lifted from his soul. His throat closed and he could not speak. The burdens of the past, of the wrongs her father had done to him and his family, and the misery he’d suffered melted away.

  She looked like a little drop of heaven—or at least his notion of heaven—full of goodness and mercy and kindness. Mist clung to the gossamer curls caressing her sweet face. “My parents were wrong and misguided and they had no right to interfere, but they’re gone now. And if there’s something to learn from this, then it’s that our time here is so very short. I don’t want to waste another moment in heartache. Take me skating, Thad.”

  She held out her mittened hands, and it felt as if she were offering him a second chance. They’d navigated the short way to the head of the little pond where mist curled over the ice like wishes. “Straight ahead a few steps. That’s right.”

  They toddled together the short distance to the pond’s edge. The surface was rippled and uneven. He took the first step and braced himself to help her onto the slick surface. “Easy now.”

  “Oh, I’m out of practice.” Her right blade slid forward, and she wobbled as if losing her sense of balance.

  He caught her by the elbows and muscled her around. Her gloved hands fisted in the fabric of his coat as he steadied her. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s going to take me a moment to get used to this.” Her hold on him was a trusting one. “Which way am I facing? So I can get a sense of direction.”

  “The house is in a straight line behind you. The orchard is to the left.”

  “That means we have the whole length of the pond ahead of us.”

  “Yes. Are you ready to take a spin?”

  “More ready than you know.” She moved to the inside, so she wouldn’t catch her blade on any stray branch or stem. She looked fearless.

  She was amazing. Thad couldn’t take his gaze from her as they took that first sweeping step. She was his perfection. She pushed off into the unknown as if she were not afraid of falling.

  “Look! Thad, I’m skating.”

  “Isn’t that stating the obvious?” Her happiness was catching and he wouldn’t stop the joy dawning within him even if he wanted to.

  She laughed, coming to a shaky stop. “Yes, but I can’t believe it. It’s just like I remembered it.”

  “How’s that?”

  “That it must be close to what a sparrow feels flying across the frozen ground.” Her touch on his arm was light. “How long do I have before I run out of pond?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll turn you before you hit land. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  They pushed off together, and he was drawn by her—by everything about her. Tiny silken wisps of hair had escaped her braid and curled around her face. Joy shone from her like light from a midnight star, and he felt touched by it. Joy shone into him and there was no stopping the power of it or the truth. They glided together in short sharp bursts, and he nudged her into a curving arc that had them circling to the far side of the pond.

  “We’re heading back toward the house,” he told her, so she could keep her sense of direction.

  “I can feel that.” She lifted her face into the air. “The wind is coming from the north. It’s starting to snow.”

  “Is it?” He hadn’t noticed. He could only see her. But now that she’d pointed it out to him, sure enough, there were the tiniest flakes glinting as they fell. They began to cling to her chestnut hair and the wool of her coat like tiny chips of diamonds.

  Maybe it was the love he felt for her seemingly turning the snow to jewels, the ordinary into the rare, but being with her again like this, at her side, taking care of her, did feel extraordinary.

  “I want to twirl.” She shakily nosed her blades into the ice, fighting to keep her balance.

  He braced his legs, tensed the muscles in his arms and made sure she stayed upright. “Twirl? I don’t see why you can’t.”

  “Me, either.” She flung her braid over her shoulder and inched away from him. “I don’t want to accidentally smack you in the jaw.”

  “Don’t worry. I know how to duck.”

  “You have good reflexes, too, so I don’t know why I’m worrying.” She couldn’t help laughing, she felt so happy. Bliss bubbled out of her. “I should be able to spin and not fall down. That’s my theory.”

  “It’s worth testing out. I’ll watch over you.”

  “I know.” She held out her arms and glided in a small loop. Hoping she wasn’t heading straight into trouble, she hurled herself into the dark and let the skates slice a perfect circle.

  She knew when she hit the track of her first revolution that she’d done it, just as she could feel the air crisping against her face and whispering through her hair. Their movements on the ice were like music; the melody of her quick, light blades and, in counterpoint, the heavier and deeper gait as Thad kept up with her.

  She kicked off and for one perfect moment, she was free, gliding into the unknown. She soared over ruts in the ice with the cold wind and tiny snowflakes stinging her face. Never had she thought she would be able to do this again. Joy lifted her up until she wasn’t certain if her skates even touched the ice. It felt as if she were gliding on clouds.

  “Turn!” Thad called out, and she drew up short.

  Putting her arms over her head, she gave a little kick with her toe and twirled. Around and around she went, spinning faster and faster. What fun! The sound whirred in her ears and uplifted her heart.

  When she stumbled, Thad was there, catching her like her own personal guardian, holding her in his strong arms.

  Safe, just as he’d promised.

  The world tilted sideways, and she clutched his shoulders, but it wasn’t because she’d lost her sense of balance.

  No, she was losing her heart.

  “You’re glowing,” Thad said as they left the pond behind, the skates clinking together with his every step.

  Noelle practically floated up the path. She was so happy, she had to be doing more than glowing; she felt as though she was radiating joy the way the stars did light. “I haven’t had so much fun since—” Her heart gave a squeeze. “Since the last time I was out with you.”

  “Me, either. And to think I only fell the once.”

  “You made a loud crash, too.” She couldn’t help teasing him, just a little.

  “I landed so hard on my backside that I’m surprised I didn’t crack the ice.”

  Laughter hadn’t come this easily in a long time. She heard the same lightness in Thad’s voice and felt it in his touch as he guided her back to the house. “It’s been such a perfect afternoon, that there’s only one thing wrong with it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s coming to an end.” She sighed, feeling the pathway level out. She knew without needing to ask that the front porch steps weren’t far away. �
��I—I just really liked skating.”

  “I know just how you feel.”

  Did he feel this, too? Her knees turned to butter and she was thankful for his strong arm that guided her safely onto the boardwalk. Snow crunched beneath their shoes. Fragile snowflakes brushed against her face and caught in her lashes. She rubbed at them with her free hand, and her eyes burned.

  This was not fair. Being with Thad made her feel whole—and not damaged—again. For a length of time out on that ice, she’d felt normal. Unfettered. Free. She knew that when Thad withdrew his arm from her hand and left her, she would be in darkness again.

  No, this was not fair, she thought, but it was the way God meant her life to be. As she caught the edge of the rail, she prepared for the icy steps, pulling a little away from Thad, so as to brace herself for the inevitable.

  He turned to her outside the front door, his boots shuffling a bit on the pieces of ice and snow. “I won’t be around much after tomorrow. Finn’s getting out. I’ve already spoken to Robert about it.”

  Oh. The air whooshed out of her lungs. She felt deflated. Her heart squeezed. “A-are you leaving us for good, then?”

  “You knew I couldn’t stay.”

  She knew. Sadness ribboned through her spirit, taking the joy from the afternoon with it. She straightened her spine and set her chin. Of course, she had to be practical. Thad had a whole life to live and dreams to find.

  She counted her steps from the rail to the doorknob and when she reached out, her hand found the china knob perfectly. “I guess this is really goodbye.”

  “Not a chance, pretty lady. I’ll be by when Robert is up for a few lessons on handling horses. And I’ll be by to see you, if that’s all right?”

  To see her? As a friend, she wondered, or as more? She turned the knob and forced her feet to carry her across the threshold and she counted her steps before she turned to face Thad. She lifted the guards around her heart firmly into place. Hurting, yes she was hurting, but she forced a smile onto her face. “I’d like to see you again, Thad. You’ll al-always be a friend.”