Homespun Bride

here. Remember how we would come here the summer I proposed?”
    “I r-remember.” Those memories stuck in her throat like sorrow. “You proposed to me on the rise of land, where we would always picnic.”
    “I would come here on my lunch and you would slip away from your mother’s garden parties.”
    “Yes, I would bring a basket of some of the goodies from the kitchen.”
    “Cake and cookies. Lemonade and sandwiches. I don’t know why I especially remember the ham sandwiches.”
    “Our cook made excellent ham sandwiches.” Suddenly they were laughing together, and the sorrow and the regret lifted away. “It was enough just to be with you,” she remembered. “To talk and laugh and walk side by side.”
    “I remember holding your hand.” He took her hand in his, fitting their fingers together with such deliberate care.
    Still a perfect fit. As if they were made to be together. Thank heavens. He kept a tight hold on her hand and did not let go.
    “You wouldn’t happen to be attending Lanna and Joe’s wedding?” he asked.
    “Yes, as it’s the first big social event of the year. We’ve been preparing for it since the New Year. All the girls need new dresses and bonnets, gloves and shoes. We’ve kept Miss Sims’s dress shop in profits for the last month.”
    “I thought that might be the case. You’re probably going with the Worthingtons?”
    “Yes, as I have a difficult time driving to town these days on my own.” She liked that he chuckled, just a little, at her joke. “You’ll be there?”
    “Count on it. You wouldn’t mind saving me a spot on your dance card?”
    “I would, but Henrietta does not approve of dancing.”
    “Then will you save me a minute or two to chat with you?”
    “Only a minute. My social card is very full.” She smiled, quipping again. She simply felt so...happy. It was Thad. He made her happy. This—being with him, talking with him and laughing with him—was a perfect moment in time.
    “I’d rather have a minute with you,” he said, “than to have a million minutes without you. I saw your face that night at supper when I told your family about Sunny.”
    “It was an incredible story.”
    “I never forgot your dreams, Noelle. They were mine, too.” His tone dipped and he paused. In that instant of silence, she could not know how his face looked and what emotion lurked there.
    She longed to see him. To know all the little things about his dear face that had changed—and those that had stayed the same.
    He broke the stillness between them. “I always wanted to hunt down whoever owned this property and buy it for you. Of course, I was a kid back then. I had no notion of how expensive this land really is.”
    The wind burned her eyes. Surely it was the wind and not sadness. “I wish I had known that.”
    “You wanted to build a life here, too, remember?” Did she. The colors filled her mind as love for him did her heart. She couldn’t take the pain of it. She curled her fingers around the hem of the robe and felt the icy caress of wind against her face. She could never be a rancher’s wife now.
    The confusion of her emotions ached within her. “That is a lost dream for me, Thad. A child’s dream.”
    “That’s not necessarily so.”
    She didn’t know how to tell him that he was wrong. The swell of wind and snow moved between them like melody and harmony. How did she speak of the remnants of her hopes and the ashes of her future to the one man who knew the value of what she’d lost? Of what she would never have again?
    “Some of my hopes have been lost, sure,” Thad said with an easy note. “But I’ve gained some along the way, too. I suppose it’s like anything else in life. It doesn’t work out the way you want, but sometimes in the end you wind up somewhere better than you expected.”
    “That sounds awfully optimistic for you.”
    His chuckle sounded good-natured. “I admit it. You’ve changed me.”
    “Oh, I don’t think—”
    He squeezed her hand to interrupt her. “You’ve given me dreams again and I thank you for it.”
    Noelle turned away, letting the concert of snowfall and waterfall fill her senses and create a silence between them. A silence she desperately needed.
    “I suppose I’d best turn the horse back. I want to get you home well before suppertime. I don’t want to earn Henrietta’s wrath. I reckon I’m already walking a fine line as it is.”
    She managed a weak smile. “I’ll have you know that my aunt