that of rose petals, caught his attention, and for a moment he felt another presence, as if the woman who had been the possessor of this space lingered still. And then the notion vanished as Johanna moved across the floor, her gaze measuring the walls and floor space.
“I think there will be room enough once the worktable and sewing machine are taken upstairs.” She turned to him expectantly, as if she awaited his opinion.
“Whatever you think, Johanna.” He’d already decided to be as obliging as he could. The house was her domain. The lines would be drawn soon enough when it came to the running of the farm.
“I’ll move most everything upstairs.” She spoke softly, one hand brushing at a speck of dust on the dresser. “This chest will be large enough for my things.”
“I’ll take care of the heavy stuff. Where do you want the bed to go?”
She started abruptly. “Oh! Here, put it against the wall. We’ll have to move the sewing machine and the worktable out first, won’t we?” Her fingers lingered on the surface of the dresser as she spoke. “I’ll empty out these drawers after a while.”
Tate leaned the heavy headboard against the wall and straightened. “Tell me how this table comes apart. I’ll carry it upstairs and bring down the rest of the bed.”
Johanna watched as he put one knee to the floor, leaning to peer beneath the table where long bolts held the legs in place. “My father built it for her,” she told him, moving to his side and crouching next to him. “He made it just like the one her mother had, back in the city. Shall I get the tools from the kitchen for you to use?”
He’d shifted to both knees, his hands already busy with the heavy nuts holding the bolts in place. “Your pa did a good job, I’d say. These things are tighter than an old-”
Johanna’s eyebrows lifted as he paused. “An old maid’s pucker?” she asked.
He ducked his head, backing out from beneath the table, a grin twisting his mouth. “Yeah, that’s what I was about to say. Then thought better of it.”
“I am an old maid, Mr. Montgomery. And not ashamed of it.”
“But not for long, Miss Patterson,” he reminded her, his grin fading as he took note of her somber expression. His jaw tightened as he recognized the faint uneasiness she sought to hide. Her hands were buried in the folds of her apron, her fingers no doubt clenched tight. Johanna Patterson was taking a big chance marrying a stranger, and it would behoove him to treat her with kid gloves, at least till the deed was done.
“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
