Homespun Bride by Jillian Hart

“You say that like you think I need good luck.”
    I think you’re gonna need more than that. Thad glanced at the big white stallion, teeth bared and ears plastered flat against his head, and was glad he didn’t have to deal with that animal. “I hope you got a good price for him.”
    â€œCost me a pretty penny.”
    That’s what Thad was afraid of. “I meant a low price, sir.”
    â€œWell now, he’s got excellent confirmation. And his pedigree. Why, it’s about as impressive as it can be.”
    â€œI’m not about to argue with you, but personally I like a horse who isn’t keen on biting me when I get anywhere near him.” Thad tipped his hat. “Good day to you, ma’am.”
    â€œUh, well, thank you, young man.” With the ferocity of an army general the fine lady squinted her eyes and looked him up and down. “Do you have relatives up north?”
    â€œI believe so. My father’s side of the family.”
    â€œVery well. It showed a fair amount of character to deliver our lost packages. You went out of your way when you didn’t need to.”
    â€œI just did what anyone would do.” He took a step away before she could invite him back into the parlor for supper or some such nonsense. He didn’t figure that she’d want much to do with him if she knew the truth about the way he’d treated Noelle. “Again, good luck, Mr. Worthington. You be careful when you’re handling that stallion.”
    â€œI intend to.” Robert straightened and took the mare by the bit to lead her, but seemed frozen in midstep. He glanced through the wide, open double doors to the picture Noelle made, befriending the gold-and-white mustang. “You wouldn’t know a good horseman you could recommend to me, would you? I could use some help around here.”
    â€œI, uh—” Me. He clamped his mouth shut before the words could escape. He needed a job, but not that bad. Besides, Noelle wouldn’t like that idea. And the notion of facing who he was every day—the man she made him remember. The man she saw as a coward. That’s what he felt like, even though he knew it wasn’t true.
    Maybe Noelle’s opinion of him meant more than he’d ever thought. He steeled his chest and took a step back, staring hard at the ground, at his scuffed boots, anywhere but where she stood, framed in silver light. “I’ll let you know if I hear of anyone.”
    He left the husband and wife to their chatter, keeping his eyes low, feeling the ache of regret tug at him. There she was. He could sense her somehow like warmth on a spring breeze. What did he do? Walk up to her and make pleasant conversation? He didn’t reckon she wanted that. He didn’t, either.
    The trick was to keep control of that spark of caring in his heart. Keep it small and eventually it would snuff right out. That was his hope anyway.
    She must have heard him coming because she turned toward him. There was no smile on her face and she stood in shadow. He’d always remembered Noelle as she’d been when he’d left her—she’d never aged or changed for him in memory, but time changed everyone.
    He saw that now. The way hard loss and sorrow had changed the shape of her mouth and eyes, no longer wide with an easy, assumed happiness. Her face was as soft as a rose blossom still, but leaner. Time and maturity had sharpened her high cheekbones. Her emerald-green eyes, still so lovely, did not twinkle and smile at him with good humor, the way they once had. The way they never would again.
    She was lovelier than ever, but changed. It was the change now he saw, not the similarities to the young woman he remembered.
    â€œYou have a very polite buddy,” she said gently, politely. “Unlike my poor uncle’s horse.”
    â€œSunny’s the best. I’m lucky to have him.” He didn’t bother to hide the