Homespun Bride

admit the Worthington’s marriage was clearly based on a deep love. The kind he’d forgotten could exist in this world. The kind he didn’t want to admit did exist, because it would make him see how empty his life was.
    What did a man do when he’d lost his only chance at a deep, true bond? He knew that whenever he eventually married, it would not be to Noelle. He’d lost his dream. The best he could hope for now was someone sensible and compatible.
    The expensive rug at his feet led him to the staircase, where once again he heard Noelle’s voice as soft and sweet as lark song. He tried to harden his heart so he didn’t have to feel a thing. It was better that way.
    He did his best not to look her way the moment he stepped into the fancy dining room. Knickknacks and breakables were just about everywhere, so he moved the ladder-back chair with purpose. He didn’t want to lower Henrietta’s opinion of him by breaking some of the expensive whatnots. The Worthington girls fell silent. The silence felt painful as he kept his eyes down and slid the chair into place at the foot of the table.
    He didn’t dawdle, but headed straight for the kitchen door. He had intended to check with the maid to see if any errands needed to be done in town, but he went straight toward the back door. The pressure building so strong in his chest was likely to choke him. He had his hand on the door handle when he heard Noelle padding quietly behind him.
    “Thad?”
    She looked shadowed and forlorn, and the pressure in his chest detonated like a keg of dynamite in a mountain tunnel. His willpower crumbled along with every bit of his steely self-discipline.
    “What can I do for you, darlin’?” He feared she could hear it in his voice.
    She took a small step back. “I need someone to tell my piano students I won’t be teaching t-today. Most likely for the whole next week.”
    “You mean you teach piano? But how can you...?”
    “Easily.” She shrugged simply, unconsciously, gentle as always. “I don’t have to see to hear a bad chord or a wrong note. The keys are always the same whether I can see them or not.”
    “You’ve got some lucky students, learning from you.”
    Her chin dipped. “I’m immune to your compliments, Mr. McKaslin. I’m the lucky one, as I need to make what difference I can in some way and I can’t think of a better purpose for me.”
    “Whoa, there. You need to make a living?”
    “Why do you sound so confused about that?” She tensed up some again, as if he’d hit a sore spot with his words. “It doesn’t seem to be in God’s plan for me to marry, and it’s not right I rely too much on my aunt and uncle’s generosity. I support myself and I contribute to the household.”
    “But—” He shook his head and gripped the edge of the counter. “I heard news of your engagement. I’m sorry you lost him, too. In the buggy accident?”
    “No, he’s alive and well living in town with his wife and newborn son.” She let the notes fade to silence, holding her hands still as her heart. “He followed in your footsteps. After my accident, he broke our engagement. He didn’t want to marry a blind woman. Or, damaged goods, to use his words.”
    “ What? You’re not damaged. I—I can’t imagine it. I am sorry.”
    “It wasn’t in God’s plan for me.” She fought the punch of sorrow that would always seize her—not at Shelton’s loss but because she’d so wished for a family of her own—something else that could never be. “What about for you?”
    “Me? Marriage?” His note of panic was revealing. “Now I’m not sure there is any plan—divine or otherse—but I’m hoping for a wife one day. Someone who sees life the way I do. You work hard, try to do what’s right and at the end of the day rest up for another hard day on the ranch.”
    “I see.” Maybe more than she ever had. “Excuse me, I must get back to my aunt—”
    Footsteps thundered down the stairway like cannon fire. Noelle fell silent, icy fear spilling into her veins as she heard the girls at the dining room table cry out in alarm. Henrietta’s racking sobs rose above the other noises in the house. The door swung open; Noelle could hear the hinges and feel the breeze the door made against the side of her face.
    “Mr. McKaslin! There you are.” Sadie was out of breath and panicked sounding. “Quick! Ride for the doctor. Mr. Worthington is awake.”
    “Awake?” Noelle stumbled over the word, it surised her so.