Homespun Bride

Worthington hadn’t see him; her back was to him as she marched along the boardwalk and disappeared into a doorway. He stared at the numbers written on the paper. Sure enough, he’d have to head in Noelle’s direction. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her more. Chances were he could walk right by her without her knowing, since she could not see him. The boardwalks were fairly busy, and the noise from the street would disguise him well enough.
    He headed on in her direction. It was best not to say howdy to her, or the burn on his heart would start hurting fresh. He kept his gaze focused on the icy boardwalk ahead of him and did not look her way, but there she was in his side vision, alone and lovely and sitting in the cold, blind and alone. He had to fight the powerful urge to stop and stay with her, to watch over her until her aunt’s return.
    She’s not your lookout, remember? Not when her father forced him out of town the way he did. Not when her father had threatened his family’s land. The trouble was, his heart didn’t seem to care about all those sensible arguments. His spark of caring remained. There was a brightness within him that remembered, that would always remember, the schoolgirl who’d laughed so easily, saw wonder and joy everywhere, hummed with every step she took and was full of love and dreams.
    Maybe his notion of love being nothing at all was a poor one, when put to the test. Seeing Noelle made his heart cinch up tight. Did she still matter to him?
    The embittered part of him wanted to say no. No a thousand times. But as a gust of wind hit him square in the chest, he had to admit the truth.
    He’d gone through a lot of misery for her sake. He’d left home, his family and everything he’d ever known. He’d slept on hard ground in freezing weather and in mostly unheated bunkhouses come winter. He’d ridden hard from sunup until sundown in blazing summer heat long day after long day. He’d lived a life he did not like or want because somewhere beyond his unhappiness was her joy, bright and shining and everything she deserved.
    Yep, a wise man would just keep on walking and not give her another thought. He forced his boots forward on the icy boardwalk and kept on going.
    “Thad?” Her gentle voice said his name the way it always had.
    He could tell himself he didn’t remember, that she was a stranger to him, that the past was past. It didn’t matter so much for deep down in his heart, he would always know her.
    She turned toward him as if she saw him. Her sightless eyes looked at him but did not see him. He stopped in the middle of the boardwalk. “How did you know it was me?”
    “I’d know your gait anywhere. Do you see my uncle? He’s at the horse sale.” She sounded hopeful.
    She looked that way, too. She might not notice how easily her emotions played on her lovely face. He might not want to think about how easy it was for him to read her feelings. It always had been for him.
    Aching at all the things that had changed between them, he leaned over the hitching post to peer down the alley. Robert Worthington in his fancy tailored suit stood out in the crowd of cowboys and ranchers. “He’s right ahead, but he’s looking at a half-crazed mare. Doesn’t he have any horse know-how at all?”
    “My poor uncle means well, but he’s city born and bred. He’s spent his life reading books on wranglers and cowboys, so he has a lot of fictitious notions in his head.” Fondness shaped her soft face. “It’s been a lifelong dream of his to be a great horse trainer. The poor man has no notion of ranching or real experience handling horses.”
    “Where does he hail from?”
    “St. Louis.”
    “Your parents came from here,” he remembered.
    “Yes. When they passed away and I was so injured, Henrietta came straightaway. She took charge of everything until Robert could settle things enough at his work to come help. He took over Papa’s interest in the bank, started managing my investments, which I had inherited, and finally sold my family home.”
    Her family home? It had been a mansion and not a home, but he didn’t comment on that. To her, it must have been jammed full of memories. “Was it too painful to live there, afterward?”
    “Yes. You would know that about me.” There was no mistaking the sorrow shadowing her face. “Robert moved his whole family to Montana Territory. He didn’t want to take me away from this country where I grew up.”
    “You had