by Jillian Hart
“My poor uncle means well, but he’s city born and bred. He’s spent his life reading books on wranglers and cowboys, so he has a lot of fictitious notions in his head.” Fondness shaped her soft face. “It’s been a lifelong dream of his to be a great horse trainer. The poor man has no notion 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 everything until Robert could settle things enough at his work to come help. He took over Papa’s interest in the bank, started managing my investments, which I had inherited, and finally sold my family home.”
Her family home? It had been a mansion and not a home, but he didn’t comment on that. To her, it must have been jammed full of memories. “Was it too painful to live there, afterward?”
“Yes. You would know that about me.” There was no mistaking the sorrow shadowing her face. “Robert moved his whole family to Montana Territory. He didn’t want to take me away from this country where I grew up.”
“You had to have been gravely injured.”
“Yes, at first, but then I began to recover. God spared me my life, and I am thankful. I have to believe He has some purpose for my life yet.”
“I’m sure of that, Noelle.” He sounded so sincere, it was impossible not to believe him, impossible not to be touched by that. He shook his head once and cleared his throat. “Well, now, this mare looks much more suitable for a lady’s driving horse.”
“Yes, that’s Miss Bradshaw. She’s very sensible.”
“So I see.” His step drummed closer. “Miss Bradshaw?”
“Henrietta doesn’t believe in calling a horse by his or her first name. She prefers a more formal relationship.”
“Best not tell her all the nights I slept beside my horse.”
“Best not.” Noelle couldn’t think of more to say; at least more that she wanted to. She wanted to be unaffected, beyond the pain of her schoolgirl’s broken heart and above holding on to old anger. She’d healed from his betrayal and moved on, truly. But there, beneath the lid she kept on her heart was something more devastating than anger. She didn’t know how to fill the silence between them.
And what a silence it was. Five long years of silence. She didn’t know how to break it. She was fairly sure she didn’t want to. It wasn’t easy holding back the memories of how wrong she’d been about him, about love.
“McKaslin!” Robert’s bass boomed cheerfully above the noise and motion on the street. His boots drummed quickly as if he were in grand spirits. “Glad to see you’re still here. I was just telling my wife how well you handled that stallion. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It was nothing. I’ve been around horses all my life, is all.” A note of humility deepened his baritone.
Noelle knew he was being modest; Thad had a way with horses and an understanding of them she’d always thought was a divine blessing.
Not that it was her business anymore. She carefully drew the lap blanket more tightly around her, leaning to listen. Even when she told herself she shouldn’t want to hear. His voice was deeper, manlier and rang with integrity, enticing a long-forgotten part of her to want to believe in him again. But she could not let down the guards on her heart.
“Say, Thad,” Robert boomed out jovially, “you’re good with horses. You wouldn’t happen to be looking for work?”
Noelle’s heart forgot to beat. No, her uncle couldn’t be about to hire Thad. No, that was simply not possible—
“Rob!” Henrietta scolded above the sudden staccato of her steps. “How can you offer Mr. McKaslin a job? It’s as if he isn’t successful in his own right.”
Noelle could hardly hear anything above the panicked rush in her ears. Surely, Thad would not accept Robert’s offer. He had no interest in anything permanent, she was certain.
Thad’s friendly chuckle rumbled with amusement. “Pardon me, ma’am, but do I look successful to you? I’m a simple cowboy, nothing more.”
Noelle fisted her hands around the hem of the lap blanket. A simple cowboy? He had never been that.
“You can’t fool me, son,” Robert answered. “You are a born horseman. I’ve never seen anyone calm down a horse as fast as you calmed the stallion this morning in my stable. You must make your living training horses.”
Noelle felt as cold as the rising wind as she waited for Thad’s answer, although her heartbeat filled her ears so loudly, she didn’t know if she would be able to hear him when he answered. She turned toward where he’d been standing on the boardwalk and wished she wasn’t wondering. Wished she didn’t want to know the pieces of his life and if he’d found his dream without her.
“No, sir,” Thad said at last, his baritone heavy with regret. “I’ve been making my way as a drover. Riding cattle is hard work but it pays well enough.”
“Cattle!” There was no mistaking the excitement in Robert’s voice.
Noelle gulped in a bite of air, feeling oddly lost. She wasn’t sure if it was worse to know Thad hadn’t lived out his dreams than hoping he’d found them without her.
“I imagine that’s a hard life, living on the trail,” Robert went on to say. “Imagine you’ve gained a lot of experience.”
“Yes, sir. I’m a good all-around man. I know my way around a cattle ranch. I mostly rode cattle. Spent March through October in the saddle on the trail.”
She hadn’t known she was holding her breath until the air rushed out of her lungs. Riding cattle? Was that what he left her for? To live a cowboy’s life wandering from job to job far away from his responsibilities to his family and his promises to her?
Maybe she hadn’t forgiven him as much as she’d thought. Shame filled her. There was this hardness in her heart she hadn’t realized was there. She shivered beneath the layers of wool and flannel she wore. Determined, she tucked the sheepskin-lined robe covering her lap neatly around her and anchored it so the wind wouldn’t creep beneath it. It didn’t help. She still felt as cold as a mountain glacier.
Thad’s words, calmly spoken, continued to ring in her ear. “Yes, I did like it very much. It’s a tough life. Not as romantic as the dime novels make it seem.”
“I should think not!” Henrietta humphed as she marched up to the sleigh, her steps quick and confident. “Not at all a preferable livelihood.”
Judging by her uncle’s chuckle, he was completely amused. “I keep telling my wife that it’s the mark of a man how he handles hardship, not what he does for a living.”
“Robert! You know that I don’t completely disagree with you.” By the sound of her voice, half shocked and half smiling, Henrietta was probably shaking her head fondly at her husband.
She could also imagine Thad standing quietly, hands on his hips, in that patient way of his.
“Riding cattle.” Robert sounded impressed. “Now, that’s excitement. Is it like they say? Singing the cattle to sleep and using your saddle for a pillow?”
“I mostly use my saddlebag, as it’s a might softer.” Thad’s baritone rang with an equal amusement.
That was the sound she recognized—the ring of Thad’s easy, warm, good humor. If she’d met him anywhere else, and not in a blizzard with fear thrumming in her ears, she would have recognized him no matter what.
“A saddlebag, eh? That doesn’t sound much better. I suppose it’s true what they say about the dust in the air and those long hot days.”
She waited for Thad’s answer, realizing that the lid on her heart was a little ajar. Had Thad found whatever he’d been looking for? Down deep, beyond her disillusion and her hurt, she truly hoped he had.
“Sir, that doesn’t begin to capture it. Hundred degrees in the shade, a herd of cattle, say anywhere from a hundred to a thousand kicking up dust, why, it makes a Montana blizzard look like a clear day.”
“That does no
t sound quite as thrilling. I imagine there’s a lot of gain to that lifestyle despite its hardships. Sleeping under the stars must be nice.”
“It surely does make for a good night’s sleep. Nothing like having the heavens and the wonder there for your roof.”
Yes, there was the Thad she remembered from long ago. A pang of longing and remorse knelled through her, and she was surprised by the intensity of it. It was a longing for that sweet, innocent time in her life when the world had been so sunny and colorful. When her future was nothing but a long stretch of happy possibilities.
Not anymore. Noelle heard the catch in her throat, like a sob, although it wasn’t. She hadn’t realized how much she had changed from the girl who knew how to dream, that was all. How much she had lost.
“Goodness, are you all right, dear?” Henrietta dropped onto the sleigh’s seat, all motherly concern. “Are you catching a chill? I predicted the wind was too cold for you to sit here and wait for me, and now I fear the worst.”
Ashamed, Noelle nodded. What was wrong with her? She did not know, and she had the feeling that if she did, she could not find the right words to describe it. She cleared the regret from her throat before she could speak. “I’m not too cold. Truly.”
She feared Thad had noticed, that he was watching her even now. What did he think about her blindness? Did he pity her? Did he think that she was damaged, less than whole? How could he not? “D-did you post your letter?”
“Certainly I did. Robert, untie Miss Bradshaw for me. I intend to get Noelle out of this bitter wind. In her delicate state, this cold cannot be good for her. If she does not succumb to pneumonia, I shall be amazed!”
Robert’s chuckle was loving. “Yes, dear, go on. If you two lovely ladies wish to frequent the dress shop, I’ll come by for the horse and sleigh and fetch the girls from the schoolhouse.”
“Mind you don’t be late! The school bells ring promptly at four o’clock.” Henrietta took up the reins with plenty of shuffling. “Good day to you, Mr. McKaslin.”
“Good day to you both.” Kindness enriched his voice.
She imagined he was tipping his hat’s brim once, the way he always used to do. She tried to picture more of him, tried to imagine the young man she’d known, in his prime now. It was hard to do, for he had surely changed as much as she had. Maybe more.
“Goodbye, Noelle.”
His words sounded so final. “Goodbye, Thad.”
As the cold wind scorched her face, she listened to his boots strike crisp and steady on the boardwalk as he walked away. She could not allow herself to imagine how his wide shoulders would have broadened, how his lean frame would have filled out with muscle and a cowboy’s strength. Something cold struck her cheek as she tried not to see—and yet could not help drawing up the image—of how he would look seasoned by experience and a rugged, active life.
“It’s snowing yet again.” Henrietta’s voice carved into Noelle’s thoughts. “When will winter end? I shall never become accustomed to these Montana storms.”
“Yes, sadly we are all likely to be snowed over until Armageddon if this continues.” Noelle knew that dire prediction would make her aunt happy, who huffed decidedly, pleased to have such problems to discuss.
Determined to leave Thad McKaslin out of her thoughts, Noelle set her chin and swiped at the cold wetness on her cheek—tears, and not snow after all. “Then your letter shall never reach the territorial governor.”
“Exactly my brand of luck. Listen to that! That contraption! How blessed we are to have a sensible mare who will not bolt at the clamor and dank coal smoke.”
Only then did Noelle hear the clatter of the incoming train and smell its choking coal smoke. She did not notice much else, not the harmony of the traffic noise or the melody of the town’s people going about their busy ways.
Her heart was too heavy to hear any music. Snow began falling in earnest with sharp, needlelike hits that had no rhythm or song as they fell, driven on a bleak wind.
Chapter Five
As Thad circled a dappled gray mare at the sale—he’d let Robert Worthington talk him into giving his opinion on a few animals he was considering—not even the steadily falling snow could clean away the grit of emotion that clung to him.
This wasn’t how he’d reckoned things would be. Seeing Noelle again was going to happen—he knew that when he’d made the decision to come back to Angel Falls. But he figured she’d be a wife and a mother, busy with the fanciful tasks that kept privileged women occupied, like book clubs and church fund-raisers and whatnot. What he didn’t figure on was having to realize how complete her father’s plan had been. Mr. Kramer, rest his soul, must have known that Noelle would never understand or forgive, even with her generous heart. He’d hurt her then, and he was hurting her now. He hated it. He wished—well, he didn’t know what he wanted, but he would do anything, or be anything, to keep her from hurting.
Impossible, he realized. His nearness made her sad. It was as plain as day.
“McKaslin, what’s your opinion?”
“Wh-what?” He blinked, realizing he must have been staring at the horse’s withers for a rather long time. The sights and sounds of the busy horse sale chased away most of his trail of thoughts, but not all of them.
“She’s too old but, McKaslin, you seem to like her better than the gelding.”
Thad knocked back his hat and the snow accumulating on the brim slid off, giving him time to think of the best way to answer. “You’d do well to go with an older horse. This mare is a little long in the tooth, but she’s steady and gentle.”
“I suppose I like the brash younger ones. More of a challenge.”
Yep, Worthington had even less horse sense than he’d figured on. “Well, sir, you might not want to gamble your womenfolk’s well-being like that. This old mare has a lot of good years in her, she’ll be suited to pulling a light sleigh or buggy. Besides, look at the kindness you’d be doing. If no one buys her, she might be sent to the stockyards. That is one sad end for a nice horse.”
Robert gulped at that. “I hadn’t considered that before. I’m glad I asked your opinion. You have sound reasoning and a lot of knowledge. You know I’m looking to hire a good horseman to teach me what I haven’t learned in books. If it’s stable work you mind, I’ll find someone to muck out the stalls—”
“You’ve got that wrong, Mr. Worthington. I don’t mind stable work.” Thad shoved his fists into his coat pocket, Noelle filling his thoughts. She was the biggest reason he had to say no, but there were others, too. “Truth is, I’ve got family trouble to help straighten out and then I’ve got my own plans.”
“I understand.” Robert pulled his billfold from his pocket. “I need permanent help, but more than that, I need someone like you. It’s hard for a man like me to admit, but this horse business is not like banking.”
“No, sir, it’s very different. Stacks of money don’t kick you in the chest.”
“You’re right there. I don’t want to tell my wife how many times I’ve come close to getting seriously hurt. Maybe you’d consider working temporary, if that suits you. I’d be grateful for as long as you could stay.”
It sounded mighty fine, except for Noelle. Remembering the look on her face whenever he was near cinched it. Nothing could make him hurt her like that.
“I see you’re considering it.” Robert sure looked pleased.
Thad cast his gaze around the sale. Rows and rows of horses standing in a spare lot between a boardinghouse and the smithy. Men and boys milled through the aisles, the sounds and colors muffled by the softly falling snow.
He thought of what to say to Robert and then of the land office he had yet to get to. He didn’t know if he had a blue moon’s chance of finding and affording his own place.
“Then come work for me. You can start right now by helping me figure out a good price for this mare.”
“It’s sure tempting, but I can’t take the offer.” There was no other answer he could give. “I
wish I could.”
“Could I ask what the reason is?”
“It’s personal, sir.” Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of his older brother ambling along the boardwalk, probably heading to the land office, where they’d agreed to meet.
Best to hurry this along. He’d spent over an hour with Worthington, and the man had yet to take his advice. “Robert, buy this mare. I’d offer low first, say twenty, but she’s worth more. If you pay seventy-five for her, it’s not too much.”
“Well, I appreciate that.” Robert tipped his hat as Thad did the same.
He left the man bargaining with the horse trader and waded through the fresh snow to the boardwalk. Aiden was leaning over the rail, one eyebrow arched in question.
“I heard that.” He didn’t blink, and his dark eyes kept careful watch as Thad hit the icy steps.
The ice gave him something to put his mind on instead of Noelle. “What did you hear?”
“Worthington trying to offer you a job.” Aiden pivoted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why would you turn down a good wage? Even if you find land to buy around here—”
“Land that I can afford,” Thad pointed out. That was the catch. He’d worked long and hard to put aside every dime he could of his wages, and it didn’t add up to nearly what he needed it to be. “I’m not going to work anywhere near Noelle Kramer.”
“Ah, so you’ve seen her. I wondered what would happen when you did.”
“You could have told me.”
“About her blindness? You could have asked. You left town before because of her.” Aiden nodded in the direction of a shop two doors down from the postmaster’s. “Are you going to be leaving for the same reasons now?”
“No. I gave you my word I would stay and I will.” Thad let his brother fall in step with him. There was a lot he hadn’t told his brother five years ago and now. Time to change the track of the conversation. “How’s Ma?”