The Forever Man(35)

She laughed, her fit of pique almost forgotten, knowing and reveling in  the power she held over this man. Her eyes half-closed, she tilted her  head, willing the moment of unease to pass from her. His mention of a  letter from Bessie had hit her the wrong way. That the woman missed the  boys was probably true. That she was coming here for more than that  obvious reason was also more than likely.

It had been her opinion from the first that Bessie Swenson had been  unwilling for Tate and the boys to leave Ohio. Not only because of  missing her sister's children, but because of the man who had fathered  them. And now that her own husband was gone-and good riddance, from what  Tate had said-Bessie was about to make an appearance.

"What about the news from town? You got a haircut. Did you talk to Jacob  Nelson? Did he ask Leah to the church social?" The new barber in town  had been obvious in his looks of longing toward the young schoolteacher  during Sunday-morning church service. And that young lady was in dire  need of a suitor, if her sidelong glances at several of the handsomer  menfolk was any indication.

Tate shook his head. "I didn't hear anything about Jacob, but Esther  Turner said Mr. Shrader from the bank was calling at the store twice a  day last week, once to check his mail from the morning train and again  in the afternoon to pick up groceries for his supper."

"He has a housekeeper to do that," Johanna said, her brow furrowing as she considered Tate's news.                       
       
           



       

He grinned. "He even asked me if I thought Selena would be agreeable to  his company on a regular basis. Esther thinks Mr. Shrader is looking to  court Selena. She said he spends an awful lot of time looking over his  mail every noontime."

"Selena?" Johanna's eyes widened with surprise. "She's too young for him. Why, he must be almost sixty years old."

"Selena's no spring chicken, honey."

"I'll bet she's barely forty," Johanna said, denying his words.

He nodded sagely. "That's what I mean. She's beyond the age where she'd be looking for a husband."

"I think she's lovely!" Johanna cried, as if to deny Tate's assertion.  "I'm just not sure August Shrader isn't too old for her." She considered  the matter for a moment. "What else did he say to you?" Her brow  furrowed. "When did you talk to him, Tate?"

"I stopped at the bank for a few minutes on business, Jo." Backing from  her, he snagged a coffee cup from the cabinet, reaching to fill it from  the pot on the stove.

She watched him, sensing a reluctance in his reply. He eased into his  chair at the table and blew on the surface of his hot coffee, then  turned his attention back to her.

"Anyway, I doubt Selena will be asking for advice, from what Esther  said." Tate leaned back in his chair, his mouth curving in a satisfied  grin, as if he relished his bit of news. "They're going to the social  together. Esther overheard him asking and saw Selena nod him an answer."

"He's courting her! Sure enough." And suddenly the age difference  disappeared from Johanna's mind, dissipating like a puff of smoke as she  thought of the slender postmistress and the lonely life she led. A  tender smile graced her lips as she looked across the kitchen at Tate.  Even the thought of a visit from Bessie could not mar her joy as she  basked in a vision of Selena wearing a wedding gown.

"Looks that way," Tate agreed. "Why don't you check out that stew and  see if it isn't ready to eat, honey? Those boys of mine complained of  empty stomachs all the way home from town. They'll be headin' in the  back door before you know it."

"Yes … " She drew out the word, still caught up in the excitement Tate's  news had engendered. "Perhaps they'll have a spring wedding, Tate."

"Maybe," he said agreeably, and then pounced, deciding to prevail on her  good mood. "You want to drop Bessie a line and issue the invitation to  come visit, Jo? Maybe she'd feel more welcome if it came from you."

There it was again, that faint reluctance as he spoke her name. But she  brushed it aside and nodded. "Yes, I can do that. Do you think she'll  wait till the weather breaks?"

"Don't know. Sounded like she was anxious to come. Trains run winter and  summer, honey. No reason why she couldn't be here in a week or so, once  she gets your say-so.





But the reply from Ohio was a surprise to Tate. When Bessie's letter  arrived after the first of March, he found that she would not be making  the trip until early April.

"That's all right," he said, watching while Johanna read the words  Bessie had penned to him. "It'll give me time to make a trip to Chicago  this month."

Johanna looked up quickly. "Why do you need to go to Chicago, Tate?"

"I'll be wanting to arrange sending that bunch of steers to the  stockyards pretty soon. They've fattened up good over the winter."

Her brow furrowed. "But can't you do that without making a trip there?  My father-" She paused, aware she was questioning his authority in the  matter, unwilling to step on his toes. The cattle were his concern. He'd  taken on their care, lifting the load from her shoulders. Now was no  time to be shifting the burden. She was too glad to be shed of it.

"It will only be for a couple of days, Johanna. You and the boys will be  fine here." He turned away from her, looking out the kitchen window,  and a sense of disquiet seized her.

"Tate? I don't mean to interfere. I know the cattle are your concern, but … "                       
       
           



       

"Jo! Trust me in this, will you?" Unwilling or unable to meet her gaze,  he offered her his back, and she heard his request with disbelief.  "Johanna?"

It was a nudge for her to accept his decision, and she nodded. "Yes,  I … You know I trust you, Tate." Indignation tinged her words, as if he  had somehow insulted her by his asking for a verbal acknowledgment of  faith.

He turned, and she was struck by the tenderness of his gaze. "I had no  right to insinuate otherwise," he said quietly. Stepping from the  window, he gained her side, reaching to clasp her hand, turning her to  face him. "Anything I do is for you and my boys, Jo."

She bit at her lip, for once unsure of the direction in which he  expected her to go. Life with Tate had been without surprises, except  for that of finding herself in his bed. And that particular gift she was  willing to accept without second thoughts. But today there was about  him an air of secrecy, a quiet urgency she could not digest. As if he  intended something she was not allowed access to. As if there were plans  in the making that didn't concern her.

"Johanna, don't look so serious. This is something I've been meaning to  do for quite a while. Now just seems to be the best time for the trip.  Don't fuss, sweetheart. You'll be safe here. Sheba is a fine watchdog.  And I'll ask Jonas Cooney to stop in and check on you if you like."

"No! That isn't necessary. We'll be all right" She bit at her lip again,  hating the almost foreign sense of insecurity that was overwhelming  her.

"I want you to write to Bessie again while I'm gone. Tell her to wire us  the date she'll arrive. And I think we'd better not mention it to the  boys until it's about time for her to get here."





Once he made up his mind about something, it appeared, Tate Montgomery  felt no reason to waste time. Johanna felt she'd barely heard his plan  to take the evening train to Grand Rapids and there board the  early-morning Chicago express before he was packed and ready.

A faint sense of being shuffled about was blackening her disposition as  he lifted her to the front seat of the surrey late on Monday afternoon.

"I think I need to take the reins, Tate," she announced as he climbed in  next to her. Behind them the boys bounced on the second seat, excited  at the prospect of watching the train arrive, thrilled at the prospect  of what their father would bring them on his return from this trip.

"If you like." Amiable to a fault today, Tate handed her the leathers  and leaned back, his arm riding the back of the seat as he turned his  genial smile on her.

"I haven't driven your team but in the fields and down the street in  town once or twice," she said, "and then it was with the wagon."

"You'll find a little difference with them pulling the surrey. It weighs less, and they tend to kick up their heels a bit."

Her eyes flashed a challenge. "I can handle them." She snapped the reins  and clicked her tongue, and the team obeyed, settling quickly into a  fast trot. Tails held high, hooves reaching forward eagerly, they headed  for town. As if they sensed a different pair of hands on the reins,  they behaved skittishly, heads bobbing, then tossing back, delighting  Johanna with their antics.