Homespun Bride

Jillian Hart253“What talk?” Panic crept up her spine like hungryants at a picnic. Noelle vaguely felt the book slide offher knee and heard the distant thunk as it hit the floorat her feet, but it was hard to notice anything beyondher fears. “Do you mean our talk on the sleigh ridehome?”“That would be the one.” His hands were comforting,his voice soothing. “I don’t want you to be so distraught,sweetheart.”“I—I—” She couldn’t make any words come. Thepanic was crawling into her throat now, and a horriblesorrow taking root in her chest. A dark, agonizingsorrow.“I love you.” His baritone broke through the sorrow.“Surely you know that I do.”His love for her made it worse. She could hearShelton’s words echoing in the chambers of her mind.You’re damaged goods, now. What use are you? Henrietta’sloving reassurances after she’d woken up from thebuggy accident. I’ll take care of you now. I’ll neverconsider you a burden. Well-intended words, but evenHenrietta, her own father’s sister, had used the wordburden.“I was hoping,” Thad was saying, “that you’d cometo love me, too.”Love him? Love was too pale a word for the deepabiding devotion she held for him. “Y-you are supposedto marry someone else. Someone b-better.”“Who could be better than you?” He said thosewords as if he could not see the problem.Her dear, sweet, good-hearted Thad. Did he truly notunderstand? What did she say? She longed to throwcaution and her very real concerns to the wind. She