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hadn’t forgotten that he’d been the one to leave her waiting to elope with him.
    â€œLet him go, Aunt.” Noelle looked at him with a quiet, confident air as if she saw him perfectly. Her gently chiseled chin hitched up a notch. “I’m sure you have Mr. McKaslin trembling in his boots at the thought of being alone with so many eligible young ladies.”
    So, he hadn’t been as nameless as he’d hoped. She had recognized him. Don’t let that affect you, man, he told himself, but it was impossible. He’d hoped to spare her this, nothing could come of digging up the past, rehashing things that could not be fixed. They were both changed people now. Strangers.
    Why, then, was the small flame of tenderness in his chest struggling to life again? It was tenderness in a distant sort of way, in a wish-her-well sort of way. It could never be anything more. He wouldn’t let it be.
    All he had to do was to look around. When he’d been here before, a blizzard’s heavy downpour had cut off his view of this grand home, the elaborate spread, the plentiful fields that would yield quality wheat. Such a place could not compete with the claim shanty he lived in now, behind his brother’s modest home. Such a place could not compete with the land he planned to buy—when he found the right place that he could afford, that is.
    No, there was no storm now to hide the differences between him and Noelle. The differences, which had always separated them, always would.
    Henrietta Worthington gasped. “Noelle! Shame on you. You’ve known who this man is this entire time? Why haven’t you said anything? And why don’t we know this friend of yours? Come in—”
    â€œHe is no friend of mine. Not anymore.” She cut off her aunt with her gentle alto, giving no real hint of the emotion beneath.
    Anger? Bitterness? Or was it nothing at all? Probably the latter, Thad realized. Lost love first left hurt and anger in its wake, then bitterness, and finally it was forever gone, leaving not so much as ashes to show for it or an empty place for all the space and power it had taken over one’s heart.
    Proof that love was simply a dream, not real or lasting at all.
    â€œI’d best be going.” He gave Noelle one last look. Figured this would be the last time they would come face-to-face. He didn’t intend to spend much time on this side of the county. He didn’t intend to play with fire; he’d only get burned if he tried. He knew that for certain. All he had to do was gauge it by the narrowing of the aunt’s gaze, as if she were taking his true measure.
    And Noelle, what would she see in him now if she had her sight? Probably the man who sweet-talked her out of one side of his mouth and lied to her out of the other.
    He took a step back, already gone at heart. “Not that it’s my business, Mrs. Worthington, but don’t go driving that black gelding again. He’s no lady’s horse. It’s not worth your lives if he bolts a second time.”
    It was Noelle who answered, who’d stepped into the threshold with her wool cloak folded over one arm, staring directly at him. “That sounds as if you care, and how can that be?”
    â€œMy caring was never in question.” He took another step back and another. “I’ll always want the best for you. Take good care of yourself, darlin’.”
    â€œI’m not your darling.” She tilted her head a bit to listen as he eased down the steps. “Goodbye.”
    His steady gait was answer enough, ringing against the board steps and then the bricks and the hard-packed snow. She felt the bite of the cold wind and something worse. What could have been. Thad was a lost path that would be forever unknown, thank the Lord. She thought of all the reasons why that was a good thing, but his words haunted her. Was he simply saying the easiest thing, or part of the truth, or was