Homespun Bride

stomach gripped from the sleigh’s violent rocking motion. Foliage crumpled and crunched beneath the runners.
    Had they gone off the road? Fear shot through her heart. They were going too fast, they were going to overturn and the sleigh was going to break apart. Henrietta must have realized this, too, because she began sobbing. That only drove the horse to run faster. Noelle squeezed her eyes shut. A sob broke through her, and the seat bucked beneath her. They would be hurt—or worse—and she could not stop it from happening.
    The Lord hadn’t answered her prayer last time, either, and look at what she’d lost. Her heart squeezed with pain. She could not lose so much again, and yet she had no choice. The sleigh rose sharply upward, and tipped violently to the right, slamming her hard against the dashboard again. She felt no physical pain, only an emotional one. It was too late for answered prayers now.
    Then, through the rush of her pulse in her ears, she heard something else. Something new. The drum of hoofbeats.
    “Whoa, there, big fella.” A man’s voice, a deep vibrant baritone rumbled like winter thunder from the sky, overpowering every other sound until there was only silence. Only him. “Calm down. You’re all right, buddy.”
    The sleigh’s bumping slowed. Noelle hung on to the dashboard, drawn to the sound of the man’s confident and powerful voice coming as if from the sky.
    Am I dreaming this? Noelle had to wonder. None of this felt real. The sleigh tipped dangerously and listed to a stop. The dizzying sense of movement stopped.
    There was only the blast of the winded gelding’s ragged breaths and that soothing baritone. She could hardly believe that they were safe.
    Safe. Because of him.
    She heard the creak of his saddle as he dismounted. The sensations of Henrietta clutching her, the wind’s low-noted howl like a lonely wolf’s cry and the chill that set in all faded into the background. She was riveted to his voice; there was something about his voice, but as he spoke low to keep the horse calm over the clatter of the harnessing she couldn’t place what it was. Maybe he was tethering the horse.
    Relief flooded her. The remnants of fear jarred through her, making her blood thick and her pulse loud in her ears. She turned toward the faint squeaking sound his boots made on the snow. His gait was even and confident; not too fast, and long-legged. Already her mind was trying to paint a picture of him.
    “Are you two ladies all right?” The man’s baritone boomed.
    It wasn’t a cold tone, Noelle heard, but warmth in that voice, character and heart. And something more, indefinable like a memory just out of reach.
    “F-fine. Considering what c-could have happened.” Was that really her speaking? She probably sounded so breathless and shaky from the aftereffect of fear, that was all, and not because of the man.
    Henrietta still gasped for breath, frozen in place, but still managing to talk. “We’re a little worse for the wear, I d-dare say. I hate to think what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened, sir. You s-saved us just in time.”
    “Looks like it,” the rider answered easily as if it hadn’t been his doing. “What’s important now is that you two try to make as little movement as possible. I’m going to get you out one at a time. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe.”
    Safe? Noelle gulped. Did that mean they were still in danger? She could tell they were tipped at an odd angle, but her hearing had failed her. Her ears seemed to be ignoring everything, save for the man’s voice. It was strange, as was the feeling that she ought to know him, and how could that be? If he wasn’t a stranger, then Henrietta would have called him by name.
    “D-dear hea-vens!” Her aunt sounded quite strained. “A-are you q-quite sure that we’re not about to plunge into the river?”
    The river? That took her thoughts off their rescuer. Fear shivered down her spine. Only then did she realize there was another sound above the raging howl of the wind—the rush of the fast-moving river.
    How close were they to the edge? She tried to breathe but her lungs felt heavy and the air in them like mud. As her senses settled, she could better hear the hungry rush of the river alarmingly close.
    “Let me help you, miss.”
    His voice seemed to move through her spirit and, confused, she didn’t realize that he was taking her hand until suddenly his fingers closed around hers. His touch was strong