Homespun Bride

of riding along the country roads in a storm. Still, curiosity nibbled at him as he plowed through the knee-deep snow. Snow was falling faster now, and yet somehow through the thick downfall his gaze seemed to find her.
    She was fragile, a delicate bundle of wool; snow clung to her hood, scarf and cloak like a shroud, making her tough to see. She’d been just a little bit of a thing when he’d lifted her from the sleigh, and his only thought at the time had been to get both women out of danger. Now something chewed at his memory. He couldn’t quite figure out what, but he could feel it in his gut.
    The woman was talking on as she unwound the niece’s veil. “We were tossed about dreadfully. You’re likely bruised and broken from root to stem. I’ve never been so terrified. All I could do was pray over and over and think of you, my dear.” Her words warmed with tenderness. “What a greater nightmare for you.”
    “We’re fine. All’s well that ends well,” the niece insisted.
    Although her voice was muffled by the thick snowfall, his step faltered. There was something about her voice, something familiar in the gentle resonance of her alto. Now he could see the top part of her face, due to her loosened scarf. Her eyes—they were a startling shade of flawless emerald green.
    Whoa, there. He’d seen that perfect shade of green before—and long ago. Recognition speared through his midsection, but he already knew she was his Noelle even before the last layer of the scarf fell away from her face.
    His Noelle, just as lovely and dear, was now blind and veiled with snow. His first love. The woman he’d spent years and thousands of miles trying to forget. Hard to believe that there she was suddenly right in front of him. He’d heard about the engagement announcement a few years back, and he’d known in returning to Angel Falls to live that he’d have to run into her eventually.
    He just didn’t figure it would be so soon and like this.
    Seeing her again shouldn’t make him feel as if he’d been hit in the chest with a cannonball. The shock was wearing off, he realized, the same as when you received a hard blow. First off, you were too stunned to feel it. Then the pain began to settle in, just a hint, and then to rush in until it was unbearable. Yep, that was the word to describe what was happening inside his rib cage. A pain worse than a broken bone beat through him.
    Best get the sleigh righted, the horse hitched back up and the women home. But it was all he could do to turn his back as he took his mustang by the bridle. The palomino pinto gave him a snort and shook his head, sending the snow on his golden mane flying.
    Yep, I know how you feel, Sunny, Thad thought. Judging by the look of things, it would be a long time until they had a chance to get in out of the cold.
    He’d do best to ignore the women, especially Noelle, and to get to the work needin’ to be done. He gave the sleigh a shove, but the vehicle was wedged against the snow-covered brush banking the river. Not that he put a lot of weight on the Lord overmuch these days, but Thad had to admit it was a close call. Almost eerie how he’d caught them just in time. It did seem providential. Had they gone only a few feet more, gravity would have done the trick and pulled the sleigh straight into the frigid, fast waters of Angel River and plummeted them directly over the tallest falls in the territory.
    Thad squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t stand to think of Noelle tossed into that river, fighting the powerful current along with the ice chunks. There would have been no way to have pulled her from the river in time. Had he been a few minutes slower in coming after them or if Sunny hadn’t been so swift, there would have been no way to save her. To fate, the Lord or to simple chance, he was grateful.
    Some tiny measure of tenderness in his chest, like a fire long banked, sputtered to life. His tenderness for her, still there, after so much time and distance. How about that.
    Since the black gelding was a tad calmer now that the sound of the train had faded off into the distance, Thad rehitched him to the sleigh but secured the driving reins to his saddle horn. He used the two horses working together to free the sleigh and get it realigned toward the road.
    The older woman looked uncertain about getting back into the vehicle. With the way that black gelding of theirs was twitchy and wild-eyed, he didn’t blame her. “Don’t worry,