Homespun Bride (7 page)

Longing overtook her. Longing for those sweet, carefree days of her youth, for the dizzy happiness she'd felt when Thad had been beauing her, and for the shining future she'd wanted with him. The shining future she could not have now.

It was all Thad's doing, she realized. Making her remember her lost dreams. Making her look at memories filled with color and love. He made her realize how dark her life and how alone her future. Because of him, she saw her future so clearly—a future she tried not to look at.

“Noelle?” Matilda's touch at her elbow drew her from her thoughts. “Are you all right?”

“Y-yes.” It took all her strength of will to bury her feelings. She turned in the direction of her cousin's voice. “No need to worry about me. Do you like your mare?”

“She's a darling. Papa promised he'd teach me to drive once the weather turns warmer. I'm so excited. I've been waiting to learn to drive for ever so long. Mama still thinks I'm twelve.”

“She loves you,” Noelle said simply.

“I know. I'm glad I finally get to learn.” Matilda sounded as if she was glowing. “Oh, I wonder if I'll be able to drive to Lanna's wedding. Probably. It will be the first wedding of the year!”

“Probably, although learning to drive might also mean that you have to fetch your sisters to and from school now and again.”

“True, but I don't mind.” Matilda fell silent, and the chatter from the rest of the family remained a background symphony of conversation. “Perhaps there's a good chance I'll run into the dressmaker's nephew while I'm out driving.”

“That would hardly be proper,” Noelle cautioned, remembering. With all the pieces of her heart, she was remembering her own mistakes. Mistakes she wanted to wipe out of her life like chalk from a blackboard, to rub away every flaw, every wrong choice and every foolish romantic notion. “It's one thing to admire an available man's good qualities—but you don't want to get yourself into trouble, Tilly.”

“What trouble could I get into?” Matilda said, all innocence, for she'd been gently raised.

As Noelle had. So innocent, she could not imagine all the consequences of one innocent crush on a nice man. Somehow, Noelle could not separate the feeling that if she'd never fallen in love with Thad, if she'd never strayed from her parents' expectations for her, if she'd never been so headstrong and determined and stubborn, then her parents would still be alive. And she would still have her sight.

Right now, she could be sensibly married to a fine, dependable man, and have several children of her own. More lost dreams that were hard to swallow. Her arms empty, her heart empty, she swallowed hard to keep it from sounding in her voice. “We're commanded to honor our parents, Tilly. You oughtn't to be placing so much importance on something as frail as love. It's like a snowflake in the air, lovely while it's swirling on the wind, but it melts and vanishes into nothing.”

“Oh.” Matilda sounded stricken. “I didn't mean to disrespect Mama and Papa. I only meant—” She sighed. “I'm not sure what I meant. I just want to be married and happy.”

She fell silent. Noelle didn't know what to say. More remorse filled her up. She hadn't meant to hurt her cousin. “I know you do, Tilly. I pray every day that the right man will come calling for you.”

“And I appreciate it.” There was a smile in Matilda's voice, as if trying to cover her hurt.

“I shouldn't have been so harsh. I didn't mean—” She felt the brush of snow against her cheek, as gentle as grace. This is what came from being anywhere near to Thaddeus James McKaslin. Everything was upside down. Her sensible life, her sensible thoughts. She was choking on the pain and memories she'd buried for good reason.

She squared her shoulders and said as kindly as she could to her cousin. “Am I hearing this right? Uncle Robert
doesn't
want to drive us home?”

“He wants to ride that beautiful new mare of his home. Oh, she is a beauty.” Matilda sighed. “Jet-black. She's so well formed, even I can see it. She's like perfection. Except she keeps trying to bite everyone.”

“Is she tame?” Was it a mare Thad had approved of?

“Aside from trying to bite, she
seems
well trained. Come, I'll help you to the sleigh.”

The late-afternoon chill seemed to blow right through her layers of warm clothing and penetrate her very bones. “I'm sorry I was so harsh, Tilly.”

“No, I appreciate your guidance, Noelle. I just—” Sad. That's how Matilda sounded. “I want to believe there's a real hero meant for me. A great man who will love me for who I am and will never let me down.”

“It's a nice dream, Tilly.” But it was only a dream. Noelle knew that for a fact, but she held back her words. She didn't know what to say to protect her cousin; and the last thing she wanted to do was to take away her hopes for happiness. “There is a good man out there for you. I'm sure of it.”

It was best to accept love for what it was, and marriage, she realized, her aunt and uncle's dissatisfaction with one another adding a sour note as the girls climbed silently into the sleigh.

 

Thad knocked the snow from his hat brim and felt his hopes fall to the ground, too. The land he was looking at—even buried in snow—was in sorry shape. The fencing—what was left of it—was tumbling over from neglect. The stable was sod. The house nothing more than a tumble-down shanty with no roof. If his guess was right, then where he was standing would be marshland when spring came. Most of the hundred and sixty acres were in a gully, which made him worry about floods from winter snowmelt and spring and autumn rains.

Yep, it was far from ideal property and for an unreasonable price, too.

Aiden ambled over from inspecting the buildings, leading his horse by the reins. “I hope you aren't thinking about laying down good money for this place.”

“No. It would be hard to raise a profitable crop here. Livestock can't graze if the pasture's knee-deep in water.”

Aiden nodded in acknowledgment, casting his gaze around, frowning severely. “The barn is ready to fall in. This place isn't worth what the bank wants for it.”

And this was the last property on his very short list. Thad blew out a lungful of air and stared down at the toes of his scuffed boots. “I want to pay cash. I'm not going into debt for land. Not after what we've been through with the home place.”

“Wise decision.” Aiden cleared his throat, choosing not to speak of what they had struggled with.

The family mortgage had been the leverage Noelle's father had used to fully convince Thad to leave town without her. His ma was fragile; she had always been. The family had been desperate—Aiden's wife was expecting and sick with the pregnancy, and they needed their home and their land to make a living on. Thad had vowed he'd never let anyone have that kind of hold on him again, especially a banker.

He swallowed hard, glad he'd done the right thing—the only thing he could do. And yet, remembering the pain on Noelle's beautiful face, it had been the wrong thing, too. He'd been caught between a rock and a hard place, and he still was.

“I guess I'll look farther out in the county. Maybe the prices will be better there. Something close enough to ride in and help you with the wheat—and our brother, but far enough away from bad memories.” That and the fact that he could see the county road from here, the road the Worthingtons also used to go to and from their spread. A lone horse and rider cantered along the lane.

“Sounds sensible.” Aiden mounted up and swung his horse toward the driveway.

Some days reality was a tough thing. Thad gave one last look at the property. His hopes had been higher than he'd thought. He eased his boot into the stirrup and grabbed hold of the saddle horn.

“Would you look at that fool?” Aiden sounded concerned. “He's gonna get himself killed.”

Thad slid into the saddle and looked up. Sure enough, it did look as though that horse and rider were in serious disagreement. They'd come to a stop in the road. The black was head down, tail up, bucking like a wild bronco. The man clung to the saddle. There was something familiar about that man. Thad reined Sunny toward the driveway, fighting a bad feeling in his gut. Robert Worthington had a brown wool coat like that, and he was not in control of his horse.

Aiden had already pressed his mount into a fast trot. “That man needs help. Is it—that looks like Mr. Worthington. He's a banker, not a horseman. What's he thinking?”

Thad couldn't answer, as he pressed Sunny into a fast gallop. Could he get there in time to help? The long stretch to the road seemed a hundred miles. Sunny's mane and stinging snow lashed his face as he pushed the mustang faster.

Hold on, Robert. Thad watched the black horse's nose nearly touch the snowy ground as the hind end rocked up high and then higher. Thad was close enough to see Robert scrambling to stay on, but he was slipping. Looked as if he was clinging to that horse with all his might. Chances were that Worthington was going to be unseated. Since he didn't know how to sit a green-broke horse, then he likely didn't know how to take a fall from one, either. Didn't he understand how dangerous that was?

“Faster, Sunny.” Thad willed the mustang on, and Sunny went full out, his gallop so fast, they could have been flying.

It was not enough.

With the cold wind in his ears and tearing his eyes, it was hard to tell the exact moment Worthington went flying. But the bad feeling was back in his gut when he saw the man lift off the horse's back end and take a hit from those powerful, carefully aimed rear hooves.

Worthington hit the ground like a rag doll and didn't move. The black, freed from its rider, didn't run, but stayed, stomping and bucking and rearing up to paw the air, dangerously close to the fallen man. Thad winced, hurting for the man, knowing what this could mean. Robert looked unconscious. Maybe worse. Maybe dead.

Please, Lord, not that.
A rare prayer filled his heart.

Adrenaline chugged through his veins as Sunny's hooves ate up the distance. The instant Sunny hit the main road, he swung out of the saddle, keeping one eye on that black horse. His boots hit the hard-packed snow and he dodged just in time to miss a well-aimed, angry kick to his head.

Thad stood between Robert and the enraged horse and caught the mare by one rein. The instant his fingers tightened on the leather strap, he yanked straight down, pulling the bit with him. The mare fought him with an angry scream, sidestepping and half kicking and baring her teeth, fighting to get in a good bite.

“Whoa there, filly. Whoa, now.” Beads of sweat broke out on the back of Thad's neck, strong-arming the powerful horse farther away from Robert. The man was still unconscious. Sunny stood by the fallen man, nosing him gently. Where was Aiden? As the mare fought, trying to knock him off balance, he heard hooves striking nearer.

“I said whoa, girl.” The beads of sweat began to roll down his back. His arm muscles burned as if they'd been set on fire. He stood his ground, gritting his teeth, trying to use what leverage he had to force the mare even farther away from Robert.

“Hold on,” Aiden called out from behind him.

Not sure how much longer I can do that. Teeth gritted, the mare surged upward into a full rear. His feet left the ground. Pain shot through his arms. C'mon, Aiden. He couldn't hold on much longer.

A lasso whizzed through the air and hissed around the mare's neck. The rope yanked tight. Thad's feet hit the ground, and he shortened the rein.

Thank the Lord.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw his brother riding close, keeping the rope taut. Free to let go, Thad left the mare to his brother and ran.

Sunny, standing over the unconscious man, gave a snort of alarm. Thad dropped on his knees at Robert's side. His guts clenched. Blood stained Worthington's hair, chest and the snow around him.

Was it too late? Hard to tell. It didn't look as if he was breathing. Thad, dreading the worst, thought of Noelle as he tackled the buttons on the man's thick wool coat. What would she do if she lost her uncle, too? Who would take care of her? Protect her? Look out for her?

Thad tore back the coat, icy fear making his fingers clumsy. Robert's chest was still—too still. And then there was the faintest movement. Shallow. Slow. Unsteady. But it was a breath.

Relief nearly drowned him. Worthington was alive. There was some hope to cling to.

“Robert!” He unwound his scarf. “Mr. Worthington, can you hear me?”

No answer. No movement. Nothing. He was hurt bad, Thad knew it. Sweat broke out on his brow. The icy air made him shiver. The snowflakes landed on his nape as he leaned forward to try to bandage the wound.

“I'll go for the doc!” Aiden drew up his horse. Behind him, the temperamental mare, squealing in angry protest, was tethered to a fence post. “Or, is it too late?”

“He's alive. Barely.” Thad nodded toward his mustang, who stood patiently waiting at Robert's feet. “Best that you take Sunny. He can run faster than your draft horse.”