Homespun Bride

through the archway and into the dining room.
    “Noelle?” Tilly called out. “He really didn’t propose, did he?”
    Her step faltered right along with her heartbeat. She reached out a hand to catch the corner of the dining table and caught air.
    “Noelle? Are you all right?”
    Two more steps and she tried again. There it was, the beveled, polished edge. She gripped it with relief. Her knees were wobbling so she lowered herself into the nearest chair, glad that her cousin hadn’t noticed how lost she’d been.
    How lost she would be from this day on.

Chapter Seventeen
    I n the warmth of the town’s dress shop, Noelle ran her fingertips across the skein of fine crochet thread. Her mind should have been on deciding if the yarn had the right weight and feel for the lace tablecloth she wanted to make for Matilda’s hope chest. But when she heard the name “McKaslin,” she couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything other than what the shop owner was telling Aunt Henrietta.
    “—should have been helping his brothers with the spring planting,” Cora Sims was saying over the thump, thump of fabric being pulled off the bolt to be measured. “That boy is trouble waiting to happen. He’s on a bad path for sure.”
    “It’s all in the upbringing.” Henrietta’s voice echoed across the length of the shop. “I haven’t had one bit of trouble with my children. I’ve taken a firm hand right from the start and made it clear there were standards to be upheld.”
    Noelle bit her bottom lip, remembering the uproar at last night’s dinner table when Angelina had announced she wasn’t going to finishing school like her sisters and wanted to take to the cattle trails instead. Since she heard Matilda choking as she struggled not to laugh, she wasn’t the only one amused by wonderful Henrietta.
    “This is the color I want,” Tilly said when she was able. “Light blue.”
    “A light blue tablecloth sounds lovely to me. We need ten skeins.”
    “I’ll count them out,” Matilda said eagerly. “Mama’s busy with Miss Sims.”
    “Is she ordering more spring dresses for your sisters?”
    “Yes. She’s taken charge as usual and I don’t think Angelina is going to be very happy. Mama’s chosen two different pink fabrics for her.”
    “Pink for Angelina? That’s wishful thinking on your mother’s part.” Noelle tried to imagine the shop full of new spring fabrics so soft and bright and pretty, but her imagination was not the same these days. Nothing was, not one thing, since she’d let Thad walk out of her life over a week ago.
    Thad. The thought of him still hurt in the broken places of her soul, where she’d banished her love for him, although it still lived.
    The noise of the rain on the roof, the shop convertions and the background din from the streets outside faded away. Regret filled her until she was brimming over. Thoughts of him carried her away to the steadfast comfort of his hand on hers as she swirled over the ice of the pond at Thad’s side. Once again, she heard the deep rumble of his cozy chuckle in the stable with the new foal nipping at her skirt ruffles. Once again she felt the bright dreams of lush fields and grazing horses standing at Thad’s side.
    It’s not possible. Stop thinking of him. She squeezed her eyes closed, but that did not begin to stop the colors of her heart. Her heart did not see reason. Nor did it understand that there could come a day when Thad realized he had made a mistake. That the dreams they’d once shared were not something she could give to him as his wife.
    Is that the real reason? a logical, sensible voice asked at the back of her mind. It was a question she could not let herself answer.
    “Did you want to get that, Noelle, dear?” Henrietta bustled her way to take the basket of goods. “I’ll be glad to get this totaled up, if you and Matilda want to go browse at the cobbler’s.”
    “Yes, thank you.”
    Although she kept a good memory of the shop, she was glad when Matilda guided her around a new fabric display and on toward the door. The bell jangled overhead as they scooted outside into the cool spring air. The damp stung her face as she bundled up against the rain.
    “Oh!” Matilda squeaked with surprise. “There he is.” Thad? Noelle turned toward the sounds of the street, wondering where he was, if he was well, if he looked happy, if he had all that he’d wanted. Love blazed up from the locked-away chambers of her heart, and she