Homespun Bride

snowflakes stinging her face. Never had she thought she would be able to do this again. Joy lifted her up until she wasn’t certain if her skates even touched the ice. It felt as if she were gliding on clouds.
    “Turn!” Thad called out, and she drew up short. Putting her arms over her head, she gave a little kick with her toe and twirled. Around and around she went, spinning faster and faster. What fun! The sound whirred in her ears and uplifted her heart.
    When she stumbled, Thad was there, catching her like her own personal guardian, holding her in his strong arms.
    Safe, just as he’d promised.
    The world tilted sideways, and she clutched his shoulders, but it wasn’t because she’d lost her sense of balance.
    No, she was losing her heart.
    “You’re glowing,” Thad said as they left the pond behind, the skates clinking together with his every step.
    Noelle practically floated up the path. She was so happy, she had to be doing more than glowing; she felt as though she was radiating joy the way the stars did light. “I haven’t had so much fun since—” Her heart gave a squeeze. “Since the last time I was out with you.”
    “Me, either. And to think I only fell the once.”
    “You made a loud crash, too.” She couldn’t help teasing him, just a little.
    “I landed so hard on my backside that I’m surprised I didn’t crack the ice.”
    Laughter hadn’t come this easily in a long time. She heard the same lightness in Thad’s voice and felt it in his touch as he guided her back to the house. “It’s been such a perfect afternoon, that there’s only one thing wrong with it.”
    “What’s that?”
    “It’s coming to an end.” She sighed, feeling the pathway level out. She knew without needing to ask that the front porch steps weren’t far away. “I—I just really liked skating.”
    “I know just how you feel.”
    Did he feel this, too? Her knees turned to butter and she was thankful for his strong arm that guided her safely onto the boardwalk. Snow crunched beneath their shoes. Fragile snowflakes brushed against her face and caught in her lashes. She rubbed at them with her free hand, and her eyes burned.
    This was not fair. Being with Thad made her feel whole—and not damaged—again. For a length of time out on that ice, she’d felt normal. Unfettered. Free. She knew that when Thad withdrew his arm from her hand and left her, she would be in darkness again.
    No, this was not fair, she thought, but it was the way God meant her life to be. As she caught the edge of the rail, she prepared for the icy steps, pulling a little away from Thad, so as to brace herself for the inevitable.
    He turned to her outside the front door, his boots shuffling a bit on the pieces of ice and snow. “I won’t be around much after tomorrow. Finn’s getting out. I’ve already spoken to Robert about it.”
    Oh. The air whooshed out of her lungs. She felt deflated. Her heart squeezed. “A-are you leaving us for good, then?”
    “You knew I couldn’t stay.”
    She knew. Sadness ribboned through her spirit, taking the joy from the afternoon with it. She straightened her spine and set her chin. Of course, she had to be practical. Thad had a whole life to live and dreams to find.
    She counted her steps from the rail to the doorknob and when she reached out, her hand found the china knob perfectly. “I guess this is really goodbye.”
    “Not a chance, pretty lady. I’ll be by when Robert is up for a few lessons on handling horses. And I’ll be by to see you, if that’s all right?”
    To see her? As a friend, she wondered, or as more? She turned the knob and forced her feet to carry her across the threshold and she counted her steps before she turned to face Thad. She lifted the guards around her heart firmly into place. Hurting, yes she was hurting, but she forced a smile onto her face. “I’d like to see you again, Thad. You’ll al-always be a friend.”
    Utter silence. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. Not a shuffle or a rasp or an exhale.
    “Noelle” came Robert’s voice from his chair at the far end of the parlor. “Invite Thad in for a chat, won’t you?”
    No,” Thad answered smoothly, quietly, before she could agree. “I’ve got to get home. Work to do.”
    “Work?”
    “Aiden’s land. We’re about done building another barn. Next there’s the fences to mend, harnesses to repair, and as soon as the snow melts, we’ll be turning sod.”
    “What about your plans for your