Homespun Bride

years passed, he would always be able to easily see into her heart. Right now hers was closed up tight to him—and it always would be. He had to face that, too. There was no way to repair the hurt he’d caused her. There would never be a chance she would trust him again. No way he could ever be sorry enough.
    That took a piece out of him. His heart, as cracked as it was, broke a little more.
    He emptied the wood into the bin, noticing that her playing faltered for a moment. She went on playing, so he knelt at the stone hearth. He drew back the screen and looked around, trying to figure out where the matches were.
    The piano playing stopped. As the last notes of the chord faded in the room, she pushed back the bench and breezed toward him. Her skirts and petticoats rustled like the softest music.
    “Are you looking for the match tin?” She lifted a box from the shadowed corner of the mantel behind some fancy doodads. Her movements were pure grace as she leaned close, holding the tin in her small hand. “It sounds like it’s full. Sometimes the maid gets busy and forgets to fill it.”
    “I imagine keeping up with Mrs. Worthington’s standards is a very demanding task.”
    “She has overwhelmed more than one maid. It became such a situation that Henrietta couldn’t find a single girl to work for her in the whole county.”
    He whisked the tin from Noelle’s hand. “Did she have to advertise outside the territory?”
    “She wasn’t taking any chances of being without hired help again, so she brought Sadie from back East. She can’t go anywhere until she’s paid off the cost of her trip out here.”
    “That’s one way to solve the problem.” He lit the match and set it to the crumpled paper and dry cedar kindling already in the grate. At Noelle’s smile, the tundra of his emotions thawed some. “A fancy house like this should have one of those heaters, what are they called? Furnaces.”
    “Henrietta doesn’t approve of them. She won’t allow a single coal heater anywhere in the house.” She smiled, looking not as guarded as she spoke of her aunt.
    Probably not because she was starting to like him again.
    “It’s an ongoing discussion of ours.” She shrugged as if it was more amusing than anything else. “She believes it’s not natural for a house to be so warm. She thinks newfangled inventions make life too easy for us. She is a firm believer that hardship builds character.”
    “It doesn’t hurt it, that’s for sure.” He watched the paper melt before the flames and the fire lick up through the kindling to snap and pop greedily. He opened the damper. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”
    “You’ve done more than enough.” She tilted her head slightly, as if using the sound from the fireplace to orient herself in the room. Her rich chestnut locks shimmered with the movement and drew his gaze.
    The woman she was now captivated him. It took all his inner strength to hold back his heart and the many ways he wanted to care for her. She moved away from him with a swirl of wool skirts, and his self-discipline melted like sun on ice.
    He stood and put the match tin back on the mantelpiece. “My ma said she appreciated the baked goods Sadie’s been sending home with me, according to your instructions.”
    “That Sadie was sworn to secrecy.” Noelle didn’t look too troubled as she felt for her piano bench and settled onto it. She sat so straight and tall and poised the way she always did, it took his breath away.
    “You can’t get too het up at Sadie.” It was tough being smitten, but he did his best to hide it. “She means well. Those cookies and cakes and breads have been a real treat for my mother. For all of us.”
    She slid her forefinger along the edges of the ivory keys to find the tiny carving to designate middle C.
    “I am glad your mother is recovering. She was always kind to me. I remember she was the sweetest lady and had a smile for everyone, whether she knew them well or not. It must have been hard being away when she was so ill.”
    “It was.” He fought the pressure rising in his chest, the pressure of all he wanted to say and everything he could not let himself feel. “I was making a much better wage than I could hope to find in these parts. Better wages helped out more at home, but it left Aiden to shoulder the burdens of the ranch on his own.”
    “I remember him as a very friendly, outgoing young man. I heard of his loss. They belonged to the other