Homespun Bride

Jillian Hart35sounded so sure. “Mama said that man was an angel.She said she wasn’t sure how he’d been able to comethrough the storm like that and to stop that new horseof Papa’s just in time. Then he disappeared like he wascalled up to heaven.”“He took my hand to help me out of the sleigh and,trust me, he was a man and nothing more. He was noangel.”“Then how did he disappear?”“It was a blizzard. All he had to do was walk threefeet and he would be invisible. You know how yourmother is.”“Yes, but it’s a better story that way.” Matilda sighed,a girl of nineteen still dreaming of romance. “Do youthink they exist?”“Angels?”“No, of course they do. I mean, dashing, honorablemen who ride to a lady’s rescue.”“Only in books, I’m afraid.”“But the stranger, he—”“No.” Noelle cut her cousin off as kindly as she couldand pulled her covers up to her chin. “He was probablymounted up and at the edge of town when the geldingbroke away. I heard other men shout out to try to stop thehorse. He himself said he only did what anyone woulddo.”“You don’t sound grateful.”“Oh, I am. Deeply.” She’d done her best to try tokeep her calm; as she’d told her aunt, all’s well thatends well. But the truth was, about midway throughsupper the calm had worn off and she’d trembled indelayed fear and shook through most of the evening.Now, she felt worn-out and heartsick.