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The Forever Man(55)

By:Carolyn Davidson


"Throw some wood in the kitchen stove, Pete," Tate instructed, leading  the mare to the barn door. "Timmy, you go with your brother. I'm going  to take a ride and see if I can scout up Johanna before that rain cloud  moves any closer."

"You'll hafta saddle up again, Pa," Pete told him.

Tate slid the bridle back on the mare. "No, I'll ride bareback, son. I  won't be gone long. How about puttin' off your nap for a while, Bessie,  and keepin' an eye on the boys for me till I come back?"





"I wonder sometimes if Tate and the boys wouldn't have been better off  staying in Ohio, Selena." Johanna lifted the teacup to her lips and  sipped the sweet brew. It was the second cup she'd accepted, and from  the looks of the sky to the west, it had better be the last.

Selena pushed the porch swing into motion again, the bouquet of violets  brushing her nose as she sniffed their fragrance. "I think Tate's better  off right where he is, Johanna. He's a man in a million, you know. And I  think he's aware of how fortunate he was to find you."

"We get along all right," Johanna said, placing the teacup carefully on its saucer.

Selena laughed aloud. "If the way he looks at you is any indication, I'd say you get along just fine."

Johanna's smile was wistful. "I didn't think I'd ever be so head over heels. I thought-" She stopped, biting her lip.

"You thought Joseph Brittles had broken your heart when you were sixteen  years old and you'd never get over the sorrow of it, didn't you?"

"That was a long time ago. Sometimes I forget he ever existed," Johanna said quietly.

"I fear he left you with a lasting remembrance of his presence in your  life, though." Selena bent forward, her eyes soft as she looked at the  young woman who sat on her porch steps. "I was so fearful for you,  Johanna. I thought you'd never get over the misery you lived through in  those days."

"You knew?"

Selena nodded. "I suspected you were going to have a child. I have  rather a sixth sense about those things. In fact, I'd be willing to  guess that you're in the family way right now, my dear." She laughed  aloud at Johanna's look of surprise, and then sobered as she continued.  "I figured out that you'd lost your baby ten years ago, Jo, and I knew  your father wouldn't let me do a thing to help. You were so young, I  wasn't really surprised. Those things happen … but this time will be  different."                       
       
           



       

"I thought no one knew," Johanna whispered, turning her head aside, unwilling to meet Selena's gaze.

"I doubt anyone else did." Selena stood, leaving the swing to rock  behind her as she settled on the top step, next to the young woman. "I'm  going to tell you something that only one other person in Belle Haven  knows about, Jo. I was left at the altar when I was nineteen years old.  The young man hauled buggy and ran off, leaving me to carry his child."

"You had your baby all alone? Where … ?"

Selena's whisper was fraught with sadness. "I gave my little girl away,  the day she was born. I've never seen her since. I never will."

Johanna's eyes filled with tears, and she reached to grasp Selena's hands. "And you never married? He never came back?"

Selena shook her head. "No, I left Grand Rapids and moved here to live  with my aunt. My parents couldn't stand the disgrace. Then, when Aunt  Millie died, I just stayed on, and when they needed a postmaster in  Belle Haven, I applied for the position." She smiled, a bittersweet  movement of her lips that reflected the sorrow in her eyes. "It isn't  often that a woman like you or me can find a man willing to overlook our  past."

"Tate knows about my baby," Johanna said. "Does August Shrader … Have you told him, Selena?"

She nodded. "Yes, and he says he loves me no matter what happened to me  twenty years ago." She squeezed Johanna's hand. "We're going to be  married next month. It will be announced in church next Sunday."

Johanna's heart lightened at the news. This day had been one of  discovery, one of fulfillment. One of secrets shared. "You're right,  Selena. I'm going to have a baby." Her laughter gurgled as she reached  to hug her friend. "I only figured it out myself lately. I don't know  how you could tell."

"You have a look about you, Johanna. Sometimes I just know things about  people. August says I'm perceptive. I knew the first time he walked me  home from Sunday church that I would marry him one day. I think he's my  soul mate."

"I've never heard that term before," Johanna said, savoring the sound of  the phrase. "You know, I worried that Tate should have married Bessie  instead of me. She's so good with the boys, and so beautiful, and the  Lord knows she wants him badly enough. But I think maybe Tate and I were  meant to be together-maybe we're soul mates too."

"Speaking of soul mates, I think I see yours coming up the road, riding  bareback on one of his new horses." Selena stood and waved at Tate as he  brought his mare to a stop by her gate.

"She's here, Tate!" Selena called cheerfully. "I'll bet you thought she'd played hooky, being gone so long."

Johanna met her husband's gaze as he sat astride the bay mare, his eyes  dark, his face somber. "I'm coming," she sang out, turning to hug Selena  quickly. "I think he's upset with me," she whispered.

Selena returned the hug and chuckled. "Maybe, but I'll warrant you can handle him."

Johanna walked quickly down the path to the gate, passing through to  where Tate waited. "Were you concerned about me? I should have left you a  note, I suppose."

Tate offered her his hand and stuck out his foot for her to hike up on,  lifting her to sit behind him on the mare's back, her skirts pulling  taut, almost to her knees. His hand lifted in a salute to Selena, then  he turned the mare in a tight circle, heading back the way he had come.

"Tate, are you angry?" Johanna hung on for dear life to his waist,  wrapping her arms around him as she slid precariously on the mare's  sleek back.

"What do you think?" he asked, his voice harsh, his callused hand  reaching back to grasp her leg, tugging it forward to hug his thigh. He  repeated the movement on the other side. "Ride up tight behind me."

"I think it's going to rain," Johanna ventured, wary of his anger.

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised. You'd be in a bad way walking home in  it, wouldn't you?" He nudged the horse into a trot, and Johanna clung  tighter. Then, as the first sprinkles fell, the horse broke into an easy  lope, as if she scented the promise of hay and a handful of oats  awaiting her in the barn.                       
       
           



       

By the time they rode through the barn door, Tate ducking to miss  hitting his head, the rain had begun to come down in a soft shower.  Johanna slid to the floor, shaking her skirts and brushing at her hair.

Tate picked up a feed sack and rubbed at the horse, drying her quickly.  "Why's your hair hanging loose?" he asked gruffly, eyeing her over the  horse's back.

Johanna tossed her head. "I felt like taking it down."

"The boys were worried that you'd run off, Jo." He rubbed down one back  leg and then, moving to her side of the horse, tended to the other.

She was silent, watching him. "And what did you think, Tate?" she asked finally.

He glanced up, admiring the feminine grace of her, hair flying as she  shook her head, bending low to run her fingers through the long golden  tresses. "I think Johanna Montgomery would never run away from me. She'd  stay and give as good as she got. I married well this time, Jo."

She stood erect, a halo of tangled locks about her head, her blue eyes  dark with a passion she did not attempt to hide. "I'll never hurt you  the way Belinda did, Tate." Her fingers lifted to trace the scar that  ridged his cheek. "Bessie told me how this happened, that Belinda did  it."

"Bessie talks too much." He shook his head, reaching up to snatch her  hand, bringing it to his lips. He spoke against her palm, his words  rueful. "I should have told you myself, honey. But I just couldn't."

"Whyever not, Tate?"

"It was going to involve a lot of explaining when I finally got around  to it," he said in a soft flurry of words, as if he must blurt out his  explanations before he thought better of it. "To start with, there were  some folks in town who looked at me afterwards-after Belinda died-like  they thought I'd been responsible for her death. And I guess I was, when  it comes right down to it."