Homespun Bride

Jillian Hart45her heart-shaped face. Or how the dark hints of red inher chestnut hair gleamed in the firelight from thehearth.No, it was best not to notice all that. Which was whyhe’d planned on leaving the goods on the front step andriding away without announcing himself. Too bad ithadn’t turned out that way. He didn’t know how, but hehad to disappear from Noelle’s life the way he’d comeinto it. He hadn’t forgotten that he’d been the one toleave her waiting to elope with him.“Let him go, Aunt.” Noelle looked at him with aquiet, confident air as if she saw him perfectly. Hergently chiseled chin hitched up a notch. “I’m sure youhave Mr. McKaslin trembling in his boots at thethought of being alone with so many eligible youngladies.”So, he hadn’t been as nameless as he’d hoped. Shehad recognized him. Don’t let that affect you, man, hetold himself, but it was impossible. He’d hoped to spareher this, nothing could come of digging up the past, rehashingthings that could not be fixed. They were bothchanged people now. Strangers.Why, then, was the small flame of tenderness in hischest struggling to life again? It was tenderness in adistant sort of way, in a wish-her-well sort of way. Itcould never be anything more. He wouldn’t let it be.All he had to do was to look around. When he’dbeen here before, a blizzard’s heavy downpour hadcut off his view of this grand home, the elaboratespread, the plentiful fields that would yield qualitywheat. Such a place could not compete with the claimshanty he lived in now, behind his brother’s modesthome. Such a place could not compete with the land