Homespun Bride

Jillian Hart65She looked that way, too. She might not notice howeasily her emotions played on her lovely face. He mightnot want to think about how easy it was for him to readher feelings. It always had been for him.Aching at all the things that had changed betweenthem, he leaned over the hitching post to peer down thealley. Robert Worthington in his fancy tailored suitstood out in the crowd of cowboys and ranchers. “He’sright ahead, but he’s looking at a half-crazed mare.Doesn’t he have any horse know-how at all?”“My poor uncle means well, but he’s city born andbred. He’s spent his life reading books on wranglers andcowboys, so he has a lot of fictitious notions in his head.”Fondness shaped her soft face. “It’s been a lifelong dreamof his to be a great horse trainer. The poor man has nonotion of ranching or real experience handling horses.”“Where does he hail from?”“St. Louis.”“Your parents came from here,” he remembered.“Yes. When they passed away and I was so injured,Henrietta came straightaway. She took charge of everythinguntil Robert could settle things enough at hiswork to come help. He took over Papa’s interest in thebank, started managing my investments, which I hadinherited, and finally sold my family home.”Her family home? It had been a mansion and not ahome, but he didn’t comment on that. To her, it musthave been jammed full of memories. “Was it toopainful to live there, afterward?”“Yes.You would know that about me.” There was nomistaking the sorrow shadowing her face. “Robertmoved his whole family to Montana Territory. He didn’twant to take me away from this country where I grew up.”