The Forever Man(9)

"If you'll collect those tools for me, this won't take long," he said  quietly. "I'll be taking that ride into town as soon as I move these  things for you. I'm sure the preacher's looking for me to stop in to let  him know what we've decided to do. It wouldn't look right for me to be  staying here without making our arrangement legal." Rising, he reached  one hand to where she crouched beside him, silently offering his  assistance.

Deliberately, carefully, she placed her fingers across his, watching as  he enclosed them in the warmth of his wide palm, then tugged her with  gentle strength to stand before him.

"You haven't had second thoughts, have you?" His grasp on her fingers  had not lessened, and now he raised them to rest against his chest.

Her eyes widened at the gesture, her heartbeat quickening just a bit.  Tate Montgomery was a tall man, a big man, standing head and shoulders  over her. He could have been intimidating, had he chosen to do so, but  the hand that held her own was gentle.

She shook her head. "No, no second thoughts. And yes, if we expect him  to marry us tomorrow, I agree that you need to deliver a message to  Reverend Hughes right away." Her mouth twisted wryly. "I don't want to  have the town talking. Heaven knows we'll be giving them enough to  gossip about tomorrow as it is. I'm not sure they'd even approve  wholeheartedly of your staying here last night."

"Well, I don't think my spending one more night in your barn will ruin  you beyond redemption, ma'am. I suspect everyone in town knows I'm here,  anyway."

She winced. "Yes, you're probably right. They'll be looking you over in  grand style come tomorrow morning, Mr. Montgomery. Not to mention  whispering behind their hymnals when we march down the aisle before  morning service."

His hand exerted just the smallest amount of pressure on hers, his eyes  assessing her quickly. Fine wisps of golden hair curled at her temple, a  smudge of dust provided mute evidence of her foray into the attic, and  her cheeks were brushed with a delicate rosy hue that gave away the  conflicting emotions she was struggling with. "I'll be with you,  Johanna. The boys and I will march down that aisle with you, just like a  real family."

"I'm counting on that, Mr. Montgomery." Her fingers wiggled a bit, and he freed them readily from their captivity.                       
       
           



       

"Last night I was Tate," he reminded her. "What happened to turn me back into Mr. Montgomery?"

She turned to the door, resting her hand on the knob, hesitating at his  query. "Nothing, I suppose. Tate it is. I'll go and get the wrench from  the kitchen for you."

"I want to be in town by noon, Johanna. I'll take the sewing machine  upstairs now, and you can decide what else you want moved after you find  the tools. If you call out for the boys, they'll help you get the eggs  and butter ready for me to take."

"Yes, all right." Her voice floated back to him from the wide stairway  as she hurried down to the first floor, and he smiled at her words. He  had a notion that Johanna Patterson wouldn't always be so agreeable. In  fact, if he had her pegged right, she'd be a worthy opponent for any  man. No matter-he'd never backed off from a battle before. Settling down  to a marriage with Johanna might very well be a real struggle, but it  was one he was more than willing to wage. She'd make a good mother for  Pete and Timmy. As for himself, he'd have the farm to run, and hot meals  on the table and clean clothes to wear every day.

He turned to where the sewing machine stood. It would be awkward  carrying it, but not more than he could handle. Kind of like the  agreement he'd made with Johanna Patterson, he thought with amusement.  He might find things a little awkward at times, but he'd warrant he  could handle her. Matter of fact, sorting out Johanna Patterson might  prove to be the most interesting part of the bargain.





* * *





"Blest be the tie that binds … " Voices soared around her as Johanna  mouthed the words, her throat too dry to add sound. The hymnal she  shared with the man next to her would have been impossible to read from,  had she held it alone. Her hands were cold, her fingers trembling, and  only Tate's sure strength kept the book from tumbling to the floor.

" … our hearts in Christian love … " he sang, his voice a pleasant rumble in  her ear. At least he could carry a tune, she thought. That was one  thing she knew about him now. No, she knew he liked cream in his coffee  and he had a heavy hand with the sugar spoon, if this morning's meal was  anything to go by. He'd eaten two bowls of oatmeal, laden with brown  sugar and half a dozen biscuits, fresh from the oven, then been generous  with his praise for her cooking.

His hand slid the songbook from her grasp, and she glanced up at him in  surprise. The closing hymn was over, and he placed the book on the pew,  then stepped a few inches closer to her. His pant leg brushed her skirt  and his palm cupped her elbow as his head bent, the better for him to  speak privately.

"You weren't singing."

Her breath caught, shivering in her chest, and she wished fervently-just  for a moment-that she was at home, feeding the chickens or milking the  cows or even carrying those dratted apples to the fruit cellar.

"Are you all right, Johanna?" The teasing note was gone, a worried tone taking its place.

She nodded, clearing her throat. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just wondering what we do next."

He glanced over his shoulder to where the townsfolk were streaming down  the aisle and out the door of the small church. Curious glances had  warmed his back all through the service. Whispers of conjecture had  accompanied the sound of the piano playing, and even now half a dozen  women were gathering at the back door, their heads together. If he was  half as smart as he'd always thought, he'd have arranged for himself and  Johanna to show up at the parsonage after church.

"Pa? Are we goin' now?" Pete's loud whisper was impatient.

Tate bent past Johanna and spoke to the boy. "In a few minutes, Pete.  Remember what I told you? Miss Johanna and I need to talk to the parson  for a few minutes first."

The boy sat down on the wooden pew again, his hands hanging between his  knees, his face dark with displeasure. Beside him, Timmy yawned widely  and swatted at a lazy fly that had settled to rest on the pew in front  of him. He waved his cap at it as the insect circled once over his head,  and then cast his attention at the dust motes that floated in the  brilliant sunlight from a nearby window.                       
       
           



       

"Have you told them?" Johanna asked quietly, shifting from one foot to the other as she waited for the church to empty.

Tate's nod was quick, his look a warning as three women made their way back up the aisle to where his family waited.

"Why, Johanna Patterson, it's sure good to see you here this morning,"  Esther Turner sang out loudly. "Thought you'd forgotten the way to  church."

Selena Phillips turned an exasperated glare on the woman. "You know  Johanna hasn't got a horse and wagon these days, Esther. It's bad enough  she walks to town and back all week." She turned wise blue eyes on  Johanna, and said quietly, "I'm so glad to see you today, Johanna.  You've been a stranger lately."

Marjorie Jones adjusted her feathered hat, settling it a bit forward on  her head and touched her top lip with the tip of her tongue. "I hear  tell there's gonna be a wedding today. Anybody you folks know?" The look  she threw at her friends was all but triumphant. That she'd stolen a  march on them was obvious from the surprise they didn't even attempt to  conceal.

"You're gettin' married?" Esther squeaked. "You and this gentleman here, Johanna?"

"Well, land sakes alive," Selena said breathlessly. "As I live and  breathe, you couldn't have surprised me any more if you'd tried, child."

"We only just decided yesterday," Johanna said, aware of the warmth of  Tate's hand on her elbow. And then that hand slid around her back and  rested on the far side of her waist, allowing the whole length of his  arm to press against her shoulder blades and ribs. She caught a quick  breath and glanced at him. He was beaming at her, almost as if he were a  genuine groom, anxious for his wedding to begin.

"Miss Johanna and I are just waiting our turn," he explained to the  three ladies. "Soon as the preacher gets finished with his goodbyes out  front, he's going to come back in here and marry me to this lady. Me and  my two boys, that is. She's agreed to take on the three of us, and try  to get us straightened out a bit." His smile was wide and his eyes were  warm with humor as he offered his explanation.