Homespun Bride

thrummed through her spirit like a harp string. “Guess. It was something you used to love to do. I found this out, and so I asked you for our first—”
    “—date,” she finished as the clank-clank came again. What did he have there? Probably it had something to do with the stables and horses, but for the life of her, the high-noted, pleasant steely sound made her think of one thing. “That can’t be ice skates.”
    They clanked again. “And exactly why is that so impossible? I brought your old pair from home. It seems they were still in the barn where I’d left a few things.”
    “The skates you’d bought for me.” Pleasure filled her up like a warm sip of hot cocoa. “I spent many an hour twirling on one pond or another while you patiently froze on the bank.”
    “I didn’t see it that way. I always figured it was a privilege just to be with you.”
    “Still a sweet-talker after all this time.”
    “Hey, it’s only the truth, but I’m glad you think so.” Was that a smile in his voice? It was, she was sure of it, warm and sweetly handsome. She sighed a little, remembering how captivated she used to be by the sight of his smile—and now, by the sound and feel of it.
    “Come take my arm,” he offered, his baritone resonant with warmth and promise. “Let me take you out on the ice.”
    “To skate?” A sweet longing filled her with a sweet force. Longing to be twirling on the ice once again, she told herself firmly—and not longing to spend time with Thad.
    Or was it?
    With his hand firmly on hers, he coaxed her toward the back door. “You used to be a good skater.”
    “Yes, but I’m likely to fall on my nose. Or worse. It might be a complete disaster.”
    “I’ll keep that from happening, I promise. I’ll be right there with you, seeing for you.”
    How could she keep from caring for Thad now? Every beat of her heart grew stronger because of his words, his presence and the promise that made her feel free again.
    “I’ll never let you fall.” He used that wondrous voice of his against her, replete with humor and unspoken dreams. Quiet, secret dreams that had her heart opening and her wishes coming to life.
    Wishes she could not give life to.
    He guided her along the uneven path with a gentle hand—not a domineering one—on her elbow.
    “Sit here.” His baritone dipped low. With quiet tenrness, he helped her settle on the garden bench.
    She hardly noticed the cold trying to seep in through her layers of wool and flannel. The burn of the wind, the twitter of winter birds and the scent of wood smoke on the air faded away. There was only the crunch of snow beneath his boots, the rustle of his clothes as he knelt before her. His scent of hay and horseflesh and leather and his soothing presence was all she could think about. All she could notice.
    He lifted her right foot onto his knee, and emotions that had sat like a heavy lump in her chest began to unravel, one aching thread at a time.
    She could no longer hold back the question that had been troubling her. “I think I know why you ran off instead of marrying me and why you left me behind.” The ice skate slipped from his fingers. “Let’s leave the past where it belongs.”
    “I’m not speaking about the past. I’m talking about this moment. Right now. What’s happened between us since you’ve come back.”
    “There’s no sense in digging up what’s done.”
    “But—”
    “Trust me, Noelle. It’s for the best if we don’t talk about this.” He shook the snow off the skate and fit it to her shoe. All he wanted to do was to keep her safe and happy and thriving. It was the only way he was allowed to love her.
    And love her he did, with all the broken pieces of his heart and all the lost pieces of his soul. He was more than the nineteen-year-old boy he’d once been, and his love was more now, too. Fuller. Deeper. More everlasting.
    More selfless. Which was why he took a long drink of the sight of her, savoring each careful detail. The heart-shape of her lovely face, her high cheekbones and sweetly chiseled chin, her jeweled emerald eyes, her cinnamon hair, her creamy complexion, her delicate features, her small slender hands that felt so dear when he held them in his own.
    He reached for the second skate. “I need your other foot.”
    “You’ve taken over my uncle’s responsibilities around the house and yard.” She switched feet, allowing him to take her left foot in his hands. “You’ve gone beyond your