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Homespun Bride
JILLIAN HART
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Dear Reader,
We hope you enjoy
Homespun Bride,
written by
bestselling Love Inspired Historical author
Jillian Hart.
Love Inspired Historical opens the door to
powerful, engaging stories of romance, adventure
and faith set in times past. Each month you’ll fi nd
four new books rich in historical detail and set in
earlier eras ranging from biblical times through
World War II.
If you enjoy inspirational historical romances and
want to be swept into the adventure of people
living and loving in the past, then Love Inspired
Historical is the series for you.
Happy reading,
The Love Inspired Historical Editors
Homespun Bride
Jillian Hart
Chapter One
Montana Territory, 1883
T
he tiny railroad town of Angel Falls was a symphony of
noise. Because she was blind, Noelle Kramer had gotten
the knack of separating one sound from another. There
was the
chink
of horseshoes on the hard-packed snow
and ice as teamsters and riders hurried on their way.
The merry bell in the church steeple clanged a melody,
marking the late-afternoon hour. The businesslike
clip-
clip
of ladies’ shoes on the swept-clean boardwalk was
like a metronome tapping the meter. The low-throated
rumble of the train, two blocks over, added a steady
bass percussion as it idled on steel tracks.
It all painted a picture, of sorts, but there was so
much missing. She could not see the colorful window
displays of the shops. Were they bright with spring
6
Homespun Bride
colors yet? While she could not know this, not without
asking her dear aunt, who was busy fussing with
their horse’s tether rope, she tried to picture what she
could. She hadn’t been blind so long that she couldn’t
remember the look of things. She only had to pull it up
in her mind, the main street with its cheerful window
displays, awnings and continuous boardwalks.
What she couldn’t picture was her friend Lanna,
from their school days, who’d been in the dress shop
when she and her aunt had stopped to pick up a new hat.
Lanna had been bursting with happiness. The brightest
notes of joy rang in her voice as she’d been fitted for
her wedding dress.
Noelle closed her eyes against the pain; she closed her
thoughts and her heart, too. She’d never asked what had
become of the wedding gown she’d had made. The one
she’d never had a chance to pick up for her wedding day.
She rubbed the fourth finger of her left hand, so
bare beneath the thick woolen glove. She understood
why Shelton had changed his mind. What surprised her
was that her heart wasn’t broken; she’d not been deeply
in love with him but she’d hoped for happiness anyway.
No, what had devastated her had been his words.
You’re damaged goods, now. Her blindness was the
reason she would never have a hope of marrying. Of
being a wife and a mother. Her affliction was a burden to
others. She, alone, could not tend fires and watch after
servants or see to the dozens of details in the running
of a household and caring for small children.
Still, she had a lot to be thankful for.
“Now, you settle down like a good horse.” Aunt
Henrietta’s no-nonsense scolding easily drowned out the
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