Homespun Bride

didn’t need Matilda to tell her the moment when Thad spotted her in the crowd. Although the organ music and the rumblings of the guests filling the long rows of pews hid the sound of his gait, she could feel him like music in her soul.
    “I would like to sit with you,” he said simply, kindly, the friend that he was.
    The friend which he had to be. They both knew it. She managed what she hoped would pass for a smile. “You would be most welcome, Thad.”
    Where Matilda and Cora had gone off to, Noelle did not know. She only knew Thad’s innocent touch as he led her down the aisle and protected her from the crush of the crowd. He stood so close to her, she could smell the soap on his shirt and the winter wind on his coat. Why she could distinguish the quiet, steady draw and exhale of his breathing in the swell of noise in the sanctuary, she could not explain. Her every sense seemed tuned only to him, to this man who meant much more than a friend to her. And always would.
    “I saw you arrive in Emmett Sims’s wagon.”
    What a strange tone in his voice. Noelle took another shuffling step and her hoops bumped against him. “He was taking his aunt to the church and they were kind enough to bring us along.”
    “Kind enough? He seemed rather happy to be doing so, if you want my humble opinion. I didn’t like it.”
    There it was again, that sharp tone that was unlike Thad. Whatever for? Then realization struck her like the bench post against her toe. Thad was jealous? Why? “It’s my suspicion that he’s sweet on Matilda. Don’t tell me that you are—”
    “No-oo. No.” Thad’s answer came so quick, lightning would be slower. “Oh, your cousin. Sure. They probably went to school together, just like we did.”
    Noelle inched along the bench, careful not to step on anyone’s shoes. “Did you truly think Mr. Sims would possibly be interested in me?”
    “Well, I, uh—” He didn’t answer.
    What was wrong with him, anyhow? Before she could joke with him a little more, a gloved hand caught her by the wrist.
    “Noelle!” Henrietta’s voice was full of smiles. “I’ve been saving a place for you. I did not know Mr. McKaslin would be joining us. Robert, scootch down a bit.”
    “We’re awful crowded as it is.”
    “Scootch!” Henrietta was adamant. “We have plenty of room, Mr. McKaslin. Don’t you even dream of going anywhere else. It’s a privilege to have you sit with us. Noelle, dear, sit right here.”
    Noelle let her overly helpful aunt guide her onto the pew, although she hardly needed the help. She was just too amused to think of an argument. What was the matter with everyone today? First Thad, and now Henrietta. It had to be the wedding. It jumbled sensible people’s reasoning abilities. Thad worrying that a younger man would be interested in her, a blind woman. And now Henrietta.
    She was thankful she was not so ill-affected. The music changed; the sanctuary’s buzzing and whispering and rustling silenced, and she imagined the minister and the groom had taken their places.
    The “ahs” that rose told her that the bride must have swept into sight. Lanna must look lovely, she thought, and happy. Noelle laid her hand on Thad’s arm and whispered in his ear. “Tell me how beautiful she looks.”
    “She can’t hold a candle to you.”
    With those words, he’d won a little bit more of her heart. Noelle said nothing more. It was wisest not to.
    * * *
    “Why is a lovely lady like you sitting alone in the corner?”
    Thad and his sense of humor— he had been the one to leave her. Noelle drew herself up straighter on the chair, brushed a stray curl out of her eyes and shook her head once, very slowly. She hoped she was giving him her best schoolmarm look. “The man I was with left me here all alone so he could get some punch.”
    “His loss is my gain.” The chair creaked softly beside her as he settled into it. “Sorry I took such a long spell. Your uncle caught me in line for punch and started jawing my ear off. Sounds like he’s happy with the younger Sims boy.”
    “I believe so. And so far, the young man has not made any show of interest in one of my cousins.”
    “I bet your aunt is ecstatic that her daughters are safe. I’m toeing a narrow line as it is.” He caught her hand.
    The small glass cup was icy against her palm and the sweet scent of lemons and limes tickled her nose. “Can’t you tell that she likes you?”
    “She has been unusually glad to see me with