Free High Country Bride by Jillian Hart Page A

ma getting her hopes up. Ever since Thad and his wife, Noelle, had gotten married earlier in the year, she had hopes for grandchildren again.
    Hopes Aiden could never see clear to fulfilling. Love could put softness into a man’s life, and that was nice. Real nice. But it left him wide-open and vulnerable, without a single defense. He’d been broken clear to the quick. There had been no way to prevent it. When Kate and his son died, it had cost him too much. There was no color in Aiden’s world, no gentleness, no music. There would never be again. His ma wouldn’t understand, nor Thad, either.
    But perhaps Joanna did.
    If he glanced over his shoulder, he could see the kitchen windows clearly. Sun streamed into the room, backlighting the woman there. She was searching through the cabinets for something…she went up on tiptoe and brought down a large mixing bowl.
    He could not say why he lingered to watch her as she set the bowl on the counter. Her long skirt swished around her ankles as she headed to the pantry. She stopped by the door, disappearing from his sight, perhaps to check on the children. Sure enough, both the girl and boy stopped playing and called out to her in reassurance that they were staying close by, before she swept back into his sight with a small sack of sugar.
    He could not say when it happened. He only knew the sunshine felt warmer on his face and the hollow where his heart used to be felt less cold.
    Work was waiting, so he turned and headed back to the south field.

Chapter Six
    I t was a beautiful morning, Joanna decided as she wiped the last ironstone plate dry and stowed it on the shelf. She laid the dish towel over the top rung of the ladder-back chair and carried the washbasin to the doorway.
    The children were playing outside in the sun. Their innocent laughter brought joy to her heart. They were her greatest blessings. The best things that had ever happened to her. Since it was Sunday, it was a good day to make a list of her blessings. It had once been a short list, but now it was much longer. Because of Aiden.
    She sent a sparkling arc of water flying into the brilliant sunshine beside the path to the door. There was Aiden McKaslin driving a wagon behind his matched set of black Clydesdales. He was dressed in his Sunday best, a tan hat, a blue shirt and tan trousers. He was a fine-looking man.
    He reined the horses in and studied her a moment from the high seat, his gaze stony.
    She felt plain in her best sprigged calico and with her braids pinned up in a simple coil. “Mr. McKaslin. I was just about to come find you.”
    “Guess I saved you the trouble.” The brim of his hat shaded his face, and so his expression remained a mystery. “I wasn’t sure, but I thought you were a churchgoing woman. Wanted to ask if you and your children wanted a ride in to town.”
    A ride? With him? She gripped the ironware basin so hard the rim bit into her fingers. In the background, her children had stopped playing, to watch the man with guarded interest. “We planned on walking.”
    “That’s a mighty long distance for your wee one.”
    “I was going to carry her.”
    “Carry her? That’s a far way.” His jaw snapped shut and tension bunched in the corners. He looked out at the prairie stretching off toward the mountains, toward town. “I know you want to save your horse’s hoof. I suppose the other one doesn’t drive well alone?”
    “That’s right.” Joanna wondered what was troubling him. “I did not accept your offer to cause you more trouble, Mr. McKaslin. I can see what you’re about to ask. I know you feel your Christian duty deeply, and I respect you for it, but not if it causes you pain. I’m not here to bring you more trouble.”
    His midnight-blue eyes snapped to her, studying her bare head—she’d not put on her bonnet yet—and her feet peeping out from beneath her skirt ruffle. Again, she felt oddly plain, and that made no sense. She knew she’d always been a plain