by Jillian Hart
“I will. You get some more rest, darlin’.”
His caring was like a knife cutting deep. With every step she took away from him, the longing for him grew. And for what could have been.
That’s all this is, she told herself as she closed the door shut behind her. All that could never be for her. Even if the past did not separate them, even if Thad had not jilted her, she was blind. Having a good husband to love her, her own home and children to look after was not possible for her. She’d accepted that years ago. Why was she upset now? God had chosen this path for her. She had to walk it.
She shrugged out of her cloak and hung it with care on the tree. The warmth of the fire lured her closer and when she was safely in her chair, she held her hands in the direction of the hearth to warm them. Thoughts of Thad came with her, too. It was not easy knowing the best part of her life was behind her—and would always be.
Once her hands were warm, she tucked away her feelings and headed upstairs to check on the family she did have, the people she was deeply thankful for.
Chapter Nine
The days began to blur together as her uncle slowly improved. Life had stood still for the two weeks Robert had been bedridden and in so much pain he could scarcely breathe. Gradually life returned to some normalcy. The girls started back up at school, the minister’s visits were more social than serious, the doc was openly optimistic when he’d last driven away, and Noelle’s piano lessons resumed.
One thing remained constant. Thad arrived twice a day to care for the horses and tend to other chores. When she was in her music room, she could hear him the best. Sometimes the wind would snatch his voice and carry a snippet to her. Or the rhythmic beat of a horse on a lunge line would interrupt her concentration during a lesson. The scrape of a shovel on the brick walk, the spill of wood into a metal bin, the low rumble of his voice in the kitchen when he returned a tray Sadie had made for him.
It wasn’t easy keeping her feelings tucked away. She made sure Sadie packed a few treats for his mother to take with him at the end of the day. A loaf of freshly baked bread. A pan of cinnamon rolls. A plate of oatmeal cookies.
The day Robert took his first few wobbly steps with a cane marked an occasion for celebration. Henrietta ordered a celebratory meal, sending Cook into a flurry. The morning was suddenly in chaos, and no fire had been lit in Noelle’s music room.
She pushed through the kitchen door in search of the maid and heard the faint ring of an ax outside the back door. Thud, thud, thud, chink. The sound repeated itself like a refrain, over and over in nearly perfect rhythm. Thad was here again.
“Noelle.” Sadie’s voice came from somewhere near the kitchen hand pump. “I meant to light the fire in the music room, but there was not enough wood. I’ll have it done soon enough.”
“Thank you, Sadie.” Noelle hesitated, drawn by the sounds of the ax. “Hasn’t Henrietta hired someone to take care of things yet?”
“I believe she’s certain the mister will be fit as a fiddle in a few more days and can do it all himself.”
Henrietta, bless her heart, was not thinking clearly. “Robert has several broken ribs and a broken calf bone. He’s not going to be able to clean the stable for some time to come.”
“Between you and me, you’re right. I wonder what the missus is thinking. She refuses to hire anyone. I must tell you all about last night. I caught her and Thad in deep conversation.”
Uh-oh. “That cannot be a good thing. She wasn’t trying to marry any of us off to him, was she?”
Sadie chuckled. “I wouldn’t have been surprised, but she was offering Thad money for his work here, but he wouldn’t take a cent.” There was a clink of ironware and a rustle as Sadie moved closer. “He said he wasn’t the kind of man who stayed on to take advantage of a family in need.”
That did not surprise her in the least. That was the man she used to know. “Did he say why?”
“He said as much as he needed a wage, he wasn’t helping out for money.” There was a clatter and clink of ironware. “Considering the way Thad looks at you, I thought you ought to know.”
Emotions swelled in her throat until she could scarcely speak. “How does he look at me?”
“Like you are Sunday morning dawning, all bright and new. Well, now, I’ve got to get this up to the mister.” Sadie breezed on by and left the door swinging in her wake.
The thud, thud, thud, clink seemed to echo in the stillness, and the emotions tangled in her throat hurt until her eyes teared. Why was he doing all this? And for no gain for himself? This was the Thad she’d fallen in love with all those years ago.
She forced her feet to carry her forward and down the cool hallway. The north wing felt especially cold this morning. She shivered, but it wasn’t the kind of cold a fire could warm. With every step she took, the sound of Thad’s ax faded into silence. She was thankful for that.
Leave the past where it belongs, Noelle. She ran her finger along the hallway wall, counting the doorways so she could find her way. Silence seemed to close in around her, bringing with it all the sore, raw edges of the questions she was too afraid to ask. She could no longer deny the hard sheath of anger around her heart, like the tough outer shell of a seed. Anger at him for hurting her. Anger at him for breaking every belief she’d had in him. Anger now at the way he behaved like the man she’d once known him to be.
Although the music room was cold with the chill of the morning, she went straight to her piano. Her fingers yearned for the comfort of the familiar keys. Her heart ached to let music move through her and push away all this bound-up confusion. She settled on the bench, uncovered the keys and let her fingers go.
She amazed him, all right. Thad halted outside the open doorway. That sweet complicated music drifted across the hall, the notes too tangled up for a cowboy like him to figure out, but it was nice. Noelle had always had a hundred pieces of music stored in her memory. At least her blindness did not keep her from playing.
He had a perfect view of her at the piano, the morning sun haloing her like a dream. Lost in her music, she didn’t hear his approach. He watched her unguardedly, savoring the sight of her. Her hair was a sleek fall of gleaming cinnamon, held back with a ribbon tied at the crown of her head. The soft locks framed her heart-shaped face. She still had that goodness within her shining up and it was the most beautiful sight.
The lilting sweetness of the music stopped in midnote. She lifted her gaze to meet his, as if she saw him clearly. “Thad?”
“How did you know?”
“The scent of hay and freshly split wood.”
“That was mighty good piano playing. Don’t stop because I’m here.”
Sunshine streamed through the long bank of windows, polishing her with a golden light. She was radiance and everything dear to him as she returned to her playing, caressing beauty from those mysterious white and black keys. He felt gruff and too big and too awkward for her and for this fancy room full of expensive things. Some things, it appeared, hadn’t changed a whit.
Her music followed him across the room. Maybe it didn’t much matter how many years passed, he would always be able to easily see into her heart. Right now hers was closed up tight to him—and it always would be. He had to face that, too. There was no way to repair the hurt he’d caused her. There would never be a chance she would trust him again. No way he could ever be sorry enough.
That took a piece out of him. His heart, as cracked as it was, broke a little more.
He emptied the wood into the bin, noticing that her playing faltered for a moment. She went on playing, so he knelt at the stone hearth. He drew back the screen and looked around, trying to figure out where the matches were.
The piano playing stopped. As the last notes of the chord faded in the room, she pushed back the bench and breezed toward him. Her skirts and petticoats rustled like the softest music.
“Are you looking for the match tin?” She lifted a box from the shadowed corner of the mantel behind some fancy doo
dads. Her movements were pure grace as she leaned close, holding the tin in her small hand. “It sounds like it’s full. Sometimes the maid gets busy and forgets to fill it.”
“I imagine keeping up with Mrs. Worthington’s standards is a very demanding task.”
“She has overwhelmed more than one maid. It became such a situation that Henrietta couldn’t find a single girl to work for her in the whole county.”
He whisked the tin from Noelle’s hand. “Did she have to advertise outside the territory?”
“She wasn’t taking any chances of being without hired help again, so she brought Sadie from back East. She can’t go anywhere until she’s paid off the cost of her trip out here.”
“That’s one way to solve the problem.” He lit the match and set it to the crumpled paper and dry cedar kindling already in the grate. At Noelle’s smile, the tundra of his emotions thawed some. “A fancy house like this should have one of those heaters, what are they called? Furnaces.”
“Henrietta doesn’t approve of them. She won’t allow a single coal heater anywhere in the house.” She smiled, looking not as guarded as she spoke of her aunt.
Probably not because she was starting to like him again.
“It’s an ongoing discussion of ours.” She shrugged as if it was more amusing than anything else. “She believes it’s not natural for a house to be so warm. She thinks newfangled inventions make life too easy for us. She is a firm believer that hardship builds character.”
“It doesn’t hurt it, that’s for sure.” He watched the paper melt before the flames and the fire lick up through the kindling to snap and pop greedily. He opened the damper. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”
“You’ve done more than enough.” She tilted her head slightly, as if using the sound from the fireplace to orient herself in the room. Her rich chestnut locks shimmered with the movement and drew his gaze.
The woman she was now captivated him. It took all his inner strength to hold back his heart and the many ways he wanted to care for her. She moved away from him with a swirl of wool skirts, and his self-discipline melted like sun on ice.
He stood and put the match tin back on the mantel piece. “My ma said she appreciated the baked goods Sadie’s been sending home with me, according to your instructions.”
“That Sadie was sworn to secrecy.” Noelle didn’t look too troubled as she felt for her piano bench and settled onto it. She sat so straight and tall and poised the way she always did, it took his breath away.
“You can’t get too het up at Sadie.” It was tough being smitten, but he did his best to hide it. “She means well. Those cookies and cakes and breads have been a real treat for my mother. For all of us.”
She slid her forefinger along the edges of the ivory keys to find the tiny carving to designate middle C.
“I am glad your mother is recovering. She was always kind to me. I remember she was the sweetest lady and had a smile for everyone, whether she knew them well or not. It must have been hard being away when she was so ill.”
“It was.” He fought the pressure rising in his chest, the pressure of all he wanted to say and everything he could not let himself feel. “I was making a much better wage than I could hope to find in these parts. Better wages helped out more at home, but it left Aiden to shoulder the burdens of the ranch on his own.”
“I remember him as a very friendly, outgoing young man. I heard of his loss. They belonged to the other church in town, but I went to the service. It had to be so hard for him to lose his wife in childbirth.”
“It changed him forever.”
“Understandably.” Soft curls fell across her face, hiding her expression as she traced one fingertip along the edges of the piano keys. “How is he doing now?”
“Unable to let go of the past. Like a lot of us.”
She nodded and said nothing at all. Her fingertips brushed at the piano keys, drawing out a harmony of music that rose sweetly before fading to silence. “You’ve sent money home? It must have been hard. Wages never go as far as you need them to.”
“Never. I’ve been sending over half of my pay home since I first went away.”
“Truly? All five years?”
He nodded and steeled his chest. He could tell her the truth right now, but at what cost? Her happiness? The high cost of protecting it was taking a big gnawing bite of him.
Best to change the subject. “I’ve been keeping a careful eye on the mare, like you asked me to. Solitude doesn’t have much longer to go.”
“Really?” Her reserve fell away. “I’ve been worried about her after Robert fired the last horseman. Is there a chance that she’ll foal before you have to leave us?”
He could not say no to her, hands down. “I’ll make sure the mare is all right. I’ll be right here, even if your aunt finds someone else to hire or she calls in family from St. Louis to help out. How’s that?”
“I’m grateful, Thad.” She brightened like dawn. Nothing could be lovelier. “Solitude is such a sweetheart of a mare, and she means so much to me. I can’t be around horses the way I used to, but I…” She shrugged, falling silent, as if unable to finish.
“You love them.” He understood her. Always had. Always would. He couldn’t stop his feet from carrying him forward. Just as he couldn’t stop caring for her. “It’s got to be hard, to have given up so much of what you used to love.”
“It’s just the way life is. I’ve grown to be terribly practical, I’m afraid.”
“Me, too. Hardworking, sensible, no time for fancy. That’s me.”
“We’ve grown up, you and me. Time has been kind to you.” As if suddenly shy, she bowed her head and her hair fell down to hide her face.
He saw her meaning clearly. The heartache and bitterness battling within him vanished like sun to mist. There was something new in his heart. Not the old tenderness for her he’d always carried within his spirit, but more. A new love for the woman she was now.
He was not practical after all. The hard lessons in life and the rough trails he’d ridden were forgotten when he gazed into her beloved face.
He hated that she’d known hardship. His leaving hadn’t spared her from that. The loss of her parents, her broken engagement, an accident that had almost taken her life. It made a man wonder about fate—about God’s design for a single life. Was it His intention for Thad to have left the way he did? Or had God meant for them to be together?
If Mr. Kramer hadn’t interfered, would they have found happiness? Would he be married to Noelle right now? Would she have been saved from her losses and blindness?
It was a funny thing—a single decision in a man’s life could irrevocably change everything else that followed it. He’d lost more than his heart on that September night long ago when he’d been forced out of town. He’d lost his belief in the goodness in people. He’d lost his belief in love and that a simple man could be honest, work hard, do the right thing and it would turn out all right for him.
He was no longer that naive young man but a man full grown who knew how the world worked and the people in it. But being near Noelle, seeing how she was still so good and bright at heart, made him wish he could be the young man he’d once been.
“I’d best get back to the stable.” It wasn’t the easiest decision to walk away, but it was the right one. “I’d best keep an eye on the mare.”
“Yes. You’ll keep me informed?”
“Count on it.” He left while he could still hold on to his heart. Noelle started playing and her music followed him out into the hall.
It sounded suspiciously, impossibly, like hope.
Noelle hesitated outside her uncle’s bedroom and listened. If Robert were napping, she didn’t want to wake him. But she heard the creak of the leather chair, so she counted her steps into the room. “Henrietta said you were sitting up.”
“And glad to be, too.” His voice was stronger. “I didn’t know a horse’s hooves could pack such a wallop. It’s one thing to read
about being injured like that. Another entirely to experience it.”
“I’m just thankful you are here to tell the tale.” Noelle smiled, knowing that comment would please her uncle. “You must be careful not to overtax yourself right now. Do you need me to call for the maid? We can get you lying down again.”
“I’ve done enough of that. Sitting up like this is doing me good.”
“All right, then. Henrietta would only take a nap if I promised on my very soul to sit with you every moment and not let you take up your cane and wobble down to the stables.”
Robert’s chuckle was warm with love. “That wife of mine knows me too well.”
“That wife of yours refused to leave your side night and day until she knew you were going to be all right.” That was love. The right kind of love. The rare kind of love. The kind she’d once dreamed of. She’d seen a glimpse of that dream today.
Don’t think of Thad. She cut off her thoughts like a piece of thread.
“I’m a very blessed man, and I know it.” Robert paused and the breath he took sounded strained. “I’ve always known how much, but never more than in the instant when I saw that mare’s rear hooves kicking out and I knew I couldn’t get away in time. I was in big trouble. That one minute stretched longer than my lifetime, or so it felt, and my last thought was what a fool I’d been, chasing dreams when all I truly wanted was to be with my wife and daughters.”
Noelle’s heart cinched up tight. He sounded ashamed and regretful. She knew something about those experiences. “Do you mean as the practical bank president who had unerring good sense?”
“That’s the man.” Robert’s voice sounded glad and sad at the same time. He fell silent as the fire in the grate roared and crackled.
Tiny pings against the window glass announced that it was snowing again. Henrietta’s words drifted through Noelle’s mind. The greatest gift is to be loved as I have been loved. As I love.
It was a while before he broke the silence between them. “There’s nothing wrong with dreams and trying to make them come true, Noelle. I might not know what I’m doing when it comes to horses, and I always might make a better banker than a horseman, but at least I got to try. I would be wise to go back to the bank, I suppose.”