Homespun Bride

Instant grief had carved its way around her emerald-green eyes. “Minnie, crowd the lunch pails and books into the backseat. Tilly, come help me. Angelina, see to your mother.”
    Thad turned on his heel, rushing the few paces back to the fallen man’s side. There was so little he could do for Robert, but do it he would. He crouched down beside the fallen man and knocked aside the snow. A fine layer had begun to accumulate on Robert’s body as if he were already gone.
    Taking gentle care with the injured man, Thad lifted him carefully, determined to get Robert home. With the big man’s heavy weight in his arms, he gave one final prayer. Help him, for his family’s sake. Noelle has had enough losses.
    A low note rose in the strengthening wind, and he feared his faith was not strong enough to lift his request to heaven’s ear.
    “Thad, lay him here.” Noelle had deftly collected the lap blankets and had lined the center seat.
    As the wife and daughters caught sight of their loved one, battered and bleeding and unconscious, their renewed cries rose up and echoed around him. Thad hardened his heart, fearing a sad outcome, and carefully laid down his burden, holding the man’s head in one hand so there would be no further injury.
    He was concentrating so hard, he didn’t notice Noelle’s touch until her hands bumped his. Her fingertips feathered over the blood-soaked makeshift bandage.
    “We’ve got to wrap him up well.” Thad spied the last lap blanket lying over the back of the front seat and pulled it onto the unconscious man. “Make sure to keep him as still as you can. I’ll be riding right behind the sleigh.”
    Noelle nodded. Snow clung to her everywhere, gracing her with a pure white luminescence. Her sadness eked into his stone-hard heart and he gruffly moved away, leaving so much—leaving everything—unsaid.
    “Getup, Miss Bradshaw.” He reached out to give the mare a light pat on the flank and the mare took off, drawing away the sleigh and Noelle.
    His Noelle. He could tell himself a thousand times that she was no longer his. That he didn’t love her, wouldn’t care about her, that the past was done and gone.
    The truth was not so simple. The truth left him feeling as hopeless as the bitter winds howling in from the north. He mounted up and pressed Clyde into the teeth of the growing storm.

Chapter Six
    N oelle had never felt so useless. While they waited for the doctor to come, the maid and cook hustled back and forth from the bedroom to the kitchen and back again bringing all sorts of necessary items. The best thing she could do was to sit in a chair by her uncle’s bedside.
    “Robert? Oh, my Robert, please wake up.” Henrietta clutched her husband’s hand, tears streaming down her face. “You wake up. You hear me? It’s the least you can do for not listening to me. If you had, you wouldn’t be d-dying.”
    Lord, please don’t let that happen. Noelle swiped at a falling tear. She sat straighter on the ladder-back chair the maid had brought up for her and steepled her hands together.
    Please let him be all right.
    She could not see to bind his wounds, cook and prepare a poultice or tend to cleaning his abrasions. The most she could do was to keep out of the way of those who could. The only thing she could do with her hands was to pray. As important as that was, it didn’t feel like enough.
    “If you l-leave me, Rob—” Henrietta choked on a sob “—I shall never forgive you. Mark my words! I will hold it against you for all eternity, that’s wh-what I’ll d-do.”
    Her aunt broke down again, all tears and incoherent fear. Noelle unfolded her hands from prayer and rose to find a fresh handkerchief from the top bureau drawer. The eerie, waiting silence of the room and of the house made her padding footsteps seem louder than a herd of horses at feed time.
    “Here, Henrietta.” She felt her way to the other side of the bed, where her aunt sat sobbing. “What more can I do for you?”
    “There’s nothing you can do, child. All I want is to see my Robert awake and alive and as good as new. That’s what I want.” She took the handkerchief and blew her nose with a trumpeting sound. “That man! Why did he go and do that? Mr. McKaslin told him not to buy that mare. Not a lick of sense. He’s at that age.” Knowing her aunt needed to talk, that it would comfort her, Noelle knelt on the wood floor. “What age?”
    “Selling the house in town, moving out here to this