Free High Country Bride by Jillian Hart Page B

woman. But now watching Aiden up on that high seat, looking handsome and powerful with that backdrop of rich blue sky and pure white clouds, her breath hitched in her chest a tad. Soft feelings—kind feelings—rushed into her heart for this man.
    “I don’t mind a little trouble, Joanna.” Aiden knuckled back his hat.
    She remembered the image of him in the kitchen with his hands to his face. Surely the feelings swirling to life within her were deep admiration and respect for him. Surely that was all and nothing more.
    “As I’m already here and we’re both going the same way, you may as well come along. Is that all right with you?” He leaned forward in the seat, his gaze on hers, his strong frame tensed.
    Realizing she had been staring at him for too long, she blushed and ripped her eyes away. She glanced down at the basin she was gripping with white-knuckled fingers. “Y-yes. It would be better for the children.”
    “Fine, then.” He leaned back against the seat and crossed his ankles, as if setting in for a pleasant wait.
    I’ve never met a man like him before. Her eyes found him like sunlight found the earth. The feelings within her sweetened. Surely it was impossible not to admire him. There was nothing wrong with a little admiration for the man who had done so much for them, right?
    Right. She whirled around and hurried into the shade of the shanty. Every step she took, she remained aware of Aiden high up on his wagon seat behind her. She thought of his brother, who usually accompanied him to town. Where was Finn? Had she caused trouble between them? Worry curled in her stomach as she buttoned up her shoes. And what were folks in town going to think when she walked into the church vestibule with him?
    People were bound to talk; it was simply human nature. And without a doubt, that talk, that speculation, would hurt Aiden. As if a man who had loved and lost as deeply as he had could simply start courting again. No one in his or her right senses would ever mistake his sense of kindness for romantic interest.
    Joanna set the sunbonnet on her head and tied the ribbons beneath her chin, glancing in the small mirror. She was too thin, too peaked, too ordinary. No man was going to love her. She’d learned that the hard way.
    “Ready?” Aiden called from the wagon seat.
    “Yes.” She closed the shanty door, turning to call for the children, but they were already close, standing at the edge of the grass with quiet, solemn expressions. Bits of grass clung to Daisy’s pink gingham skirt, and dust streaked James’s cheek, but they still looked presentable.
    She held out her hands. “Isn’t this a treat? We get a ride to church.”
    Daisy galloped forward and grabbed her mother’s fingers. James looked up wistfully at Aiden and took her other hand. She was surprised to hear the seat springs squeak faintly. Aiden’s shadow fell across her as he descended. She felt a shiver at his closeness, for he brought the shadows with him.
    “Let me help them up.” He spoke to her, not the children. He lifted Daisy into the back, where two board seats had been carefully anchored, and then James.
    Such thoughtfulness. He took care with them. Joanna felt the wedge of gratitude take a bigger piece of her soul.
    “Your turn.” Aiden held out his hand, palm up. “I reckon you want to sit with your kids?”
    “Yes.” She felt like a lady at his kindness. She reached out to place her hand in his. Her fingertips grazed his palm, and it was like touching winter’s frozen ground. Sympathy filled her as he helped her up over the board side of the wagon. Her shoes thudded on the wooden box and her skirts swirled around her ankles, but she was only aware of Aiden’s lost heart.
    He released her hand without a word and turned his back, as if he were unaware of the moment. The lark song came again to her ears and the blinding glare of sunlight to her eyes, and yet still she felt cold as she settled with the children onto one of