Homespun Bride

“What’s the news on Finn?”
    Aiden didn’t say a single word, but Thad could hear his scowl, it was such a strong one.
    “That bad, huh?” Thunk, went his boot on the floor. Thad fit his other boot in the jack, his foot slipped out and that boot, too, fell loudly in the awkward silence. He bent to retrieve both and set them against the outside wall. “What? He’s still coming home, isn’t he?”
    “Looks that way.” Aiden turned away and thunk, went his boot to the floor. “Ma picked up a letter at the post office yesterday. Finn got himself into some trouble at the prison. A fight of some kind.”
    Of course. That boy was more trouble. Thad shrugged off his coat and hung it over a peg before he hiked into the kitchen.
    Warmth surrounded him. The golden lamplight and the polished shine of the wood floor and table was a welcome sight, but not more than the view of his ma at the stove. She hummed while she worked in a calico work dress and apron. It felt right being back here after all this time. He’d missed her and his home so much.
    Heart brimming, he joined his mother at the stove and took the coffeepot out of her hand. “You’re not well enough to be waiting on me. You’re supposed to wait for Aiden or me to do the cooking. You know that.”
    “Nonsense! I’m your mother. It’s my job.” She might argue, but this close, he could see she’d gone from pale to ashen.
    “Why don’t you sit and let me bring you coffee and rolls?”
    “I’m not helpless, young man.” Gently said, and lovingly. “But I won’t say no to your offer.”
    “Good.” Fixing breakfast had taxed her, he knew. He held out her chair at the table. “You’ve overdone things, since no one was here to stop you.”
    “Oh, you know me. I’m not happy unless my hands are busy.” Ma settled into her chair. “This illness has been a hardship in many ways, but the hardest seems to be all this idleness.”
    The door swung open, and Thad went back to the stove. He grabbed three cups by the handles and set them onto the table. By the time he’d returned with the coffeepot, Ma had set the cups in place and Aiden had taken his chair, still scowling.
    “How is that nice Kramer girl?” Ma asked, while he poured her cup first.
    “Fine enough,” he answered, and shot Aiden a warning look. The subject was one that had to stay closed.
    He moved on to Aiden’s cup, prepared to set his brother straight if he brought up Noelle again. He’d taken all the hurt he could.
    He hardened up his heart, fetched the cinnamon rolls from the oven and let his ma take first pick.
    This was his life, this was the way it would always be. Fine enough, he supposed, but never as good, never as vibrant, never as meaningful without her.

Chapter Eight
    T he parlor clock was striking the noon hour as Noelle counted out four of the everyday plates from the kitchen shelves to be carried in to the table. Henrietta and the girls were upstairs by their father’s side, and it was as if the house itself had breathed a sigh of relief. Robert was holding his own. She thought of everything Thad had done for her uncle, protecting him from the bucking mare, bandaging him, staying the night. And now, back in the stables at work after delivering notes to her students, according to Sadie.
    Thad. His words kept rolling through her mind. 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’m taking a tray up to the missus.” Sadie tapped her way closer. “You’re a dear to help me, but you needn’t do it.”
    “I’m happy to be useful.” She shook all thoughts of Thad from her mind and set the small stack of dishes on the worktable centering the room. She added another plate for him.
    “I think he’s been out there working with one of those crazy horses.” Sadie’s voice made clear her opinion on horses that could not be trusted. “Someone needs to take them in hand, I suppose.”
    Thad. The knot in her chest yanked tighter. She did her best to keep her feelings still and slipped another plate from the shelf. The plates clacked together, Sadie’s step retreated to the kitchen door and she was alone again. Her mind was a muddle of stray, troubling thoughts. Exhaustion vibrated through her like a plucked cello string. Sadie’s steps faded away, leaving her to think about the one man she should not be thinking about.
    When