Homespun Bride

church in town, but I went to the service. It had to be so hard for him to lose his wife in childbirth.”
    “It changed him forever.”
    “Understandably.” Soft curls fell across her face, hiding her expression as she traced one fingertip along the edges of the piano keys. “How is he doing now?”
    “Unable to let go of the past. Like a lot of us.”
    She nodded and said nothing at all. Her fingertips brushed at the piano keys, drawing out a harmony of music that rose sweetly before fading to silence. “You’ve sent money home? It must have been hard. Wages never go as far as you need them to.”
    “Never. I’ve been sending over half of my pay home since I first went away.”
    “Truly? All five years?”
    He nodded and steeled his chest. He could tell her the truth right now, but at what cost? Her happiness? The high cost of protecting it was taking a big gnawing bite of him.
    Best to change the subject. “I’ve been keeping a careful eye on the mare, like you asked me to. Solitude doesn’t have much longer to go.”
    “Really?” Her reserve fell away. “I’ve been worried about her after Robert fired the last horseman. Is there a chance that she’ll foal before you have to leave us?”
    He could not say no to her, hands down. “I’ll make sure the mare is all right. I’ll be right here, even if your aunt finds someone else to hire or she calls in family from St. Louis to help out. How’s that?”
    “I’m grateful, Thad.” She brightened like dawn. Nothing could be lovelier. “Solitude is such a sweetheart of a mare, and she means so much to me. I can’t be around horses the way I used to, but I...” She shrugged, falling silent, as if unable to finish.
    “You love them.” He understood her. Always had. Always would. He couldn’t stop his feet from carrying him forward. Just as he couldn’t stop caring for her. “It’s got to be hard, to have given up so much of what you used to love.”
    “It’s just the way life is. I’ve grown to be terribly practical, I’m afraid.”
    “Me, too. Hardworking, sensible, no time for fancy. That’s me.”
    “We’ve grown up, you and me. Time has been kind to you.” As if suddenly shy, she bowed her head and her hair fell down to hide her face.
    He saw her meaning clearly. The heartache and bitrness battling within him vanished like sun to mist. There was something new in his heart. Not the old tenderness for her he’d always carried within his spirit, but more. A new love for the woman she was now.
    He was not practical after all. The hard lessons in life and the rough trails he’d ridden were forgotten when he gazed into her beloved face.
    He hated that she’d known hardship. His leaving hadn’t spared her from that. The loss of her parents, her broken engagement, an accident that had almost taken her life. It made a man wonder about fate—about God’s design for a single life. Was it His intention for Thad to have left the way he did? Or had God meant for them to be together?
    If Mr. Kramer hadn’t interfered, would they have found happiness? Would he be married to Noelle right now? Would she have been saved from her losses and blindness?
    It was a funny thing—a single decision in a man’s life could irrevocably change everything else that followed it. He’d lost more than his heart on that September night long ago when he’d been forced out of town. He’d lost his belief in the goodness in people. He’d lost his belief in love and that a simple man could be honest, work hard, do the right thing and it would turn out all right for him.
    He was no longer that naive young man but a man full grown who knew how the world worked and the people in it. But being near Noelle, seeing how she was still so good and bright at heart, made him wish he could be the young man he’d once been.
    “I’d best get back to the stable.” It wasn’t the easiest decision to walk away, but it was the right one. “I’d best keep an eye on the mare.”
    “Yes. You’ll keep me informed?”
    “Count on it.” He left while he could still hold on to his heart. Noelle started playing and her music followed him out into the hall.
    It sounded suspiciously, impossibly, like hope.
    * * *
    Noelle hesitated outside her uncle’s bedroom and listened. If Robert were napping, she didn’t want to wake him. But she heard the creak of the leather chair, so she counted her steps into the room. “Henrietta said you were sitting up.”
    “And glad to be,