Homespun Bride

could not resist asking, “Is Emmett well?”
    “Keeping busy enough with his teaming. Oh, there he is. Emmett, yoo-hoo!”
    Matilda’s grip turned into a stranglehold and she leaned close to whisper. “Mr. Sims is driving his team and wagon over.”
    There was no excitement. No interest. Not a single note of hope. Just a simple, plainspoken statement. That was all. It was as if the air had drained from the wind.
    Noelle winced. Matilda, bless her dearly, had taken her poor advice to heart.
    There was no time to speak of it, for suddenly there were the muffled plop of horse hooves in the top layers of the melting snow, the jangle of harness and the low-noted groan of a wagon’s axle.
    “I’ve been waiting for you, Aunt Cora.” Emmett Sims had a pleasant, quiet voice, and his words held affection for his aunt, not censure.
    “I was held up by a last-minute customer. I apologize. Noelle, would you and Matilda like to ride over with me?”
    The good Lord had a way of making things right. Noelle did not hesitate, even when Matilda took a step back and started to say, “No thank you—” She spoke right over her cousin. “Yes, Cora, your offer is completely providential. We accept.”
    “I’m so glad,” the seamstress said warmly.
    It was a mystery how she had managed to stay a spinster all these years. Noelle felt that was something they had in common, and vowed to ask Cora over for tea and get to know her better.
    Boots hit the boardwalk nearby—it must be Emmett climbing down from the wagon. “Let me help you ladies up. You first, miss?”
    Was that her imagination, or had his voice dipped a notch, as if he were shy or, perhaps, a little taken with Tilly?
    “Oh, yes, thank you.” Primly, coolly, Matilda answered.
    Noelle imagined the moment when Emmett reached out with his gloved hand—he was a teamster, he was probably wearing leather driving gloves—and the moment when Matilda smiled up at him. Was this the first time he had noticed her? Did he think her pretty? There was a tap of shoes on the wagon boards, and the springs rasped slightly as Matilda settled on the seat.
    Before she knew it, Emmett had kindly but capably helped her up onto the narrow seat, and Cora followed. There was a quiet steadiness to the young man. Later, when they were alone, she would ask Matilda what he looked like, what color his eyes and his hair were.
    The reins slapped the dash and the horses clattered to a quick start. Noelle held on tight to the edge of the seat and prayed. If Emmett Sims held a secret caring for Tilly, wouldn’t that be perfect? She could not have a happy ending, but she wanted one for her cousin. In fact, she was going to do her best to make sure it happened. She would trust the Lord to guide her.
    It was a fast ride to the church with the icy winds blowing against her face and tearing her eyes. The watery touch of the sun did nothing to warm her as she accepted Emmett’s hand down to the slick pathway that led to the church door. Merry bells pealed in the steeple above, drowning out the everyday sounds of the horse and foot traffic. She stood disorientated until Cora touched her hand, guiding her out of the crush of those hurrying to the church at the last minute.
    “Tell me, Noelle, is your cousin sweet on my nephew?”
    “Why are you asking?”
    “It’s simply wishful thinking. I have never seen him take such care with a young lady.” Cora sounded pleased.
    Noelle took that as a good sign. Suddenly Matilda was beside her, a little breathless and unusually quiet. She didn’t utter a single word, much less make one sound, as Emmett Sims’s boots stomped on the wagon steps—presumably to knock off the slush sticking to them—and called out from above. “Good day, ladies. Miss.”
    How perfect that they both seemed to be sweet on one another.
    Noelle knew he was safely out of sight when Matilda caught her by the hand again and they took careful steps in the slick slush.
    “Thad McKaslin is standing in the back of the church,” Matilda whispered the moment they’d inched through the vestibule. “He appears to be intently looking for someone.”
    Joy shivered through her spirit, unbidden and powerful. Her heart squeezed with longing and love for him, and she did her best to quiet those feelings, to stow away those emotions. “Perhaps one of his brothers?”
    “No, dear cousin, I think he’s waiting for you. ”
    The happiness gathering inside her took over with a quiet wonder. She