Johanna: Bride of Michigan (American Mail-Order Bride 26) by Clara Kincaid Page A

thinking further, she crossed the room, taking a seat on the bench of a piano.
    She began to play, her fingers gliding across the keys with deliberate movements. Paul stood near her but Johanna was so into it she paid him no attention. Tears flowed down her cheeks at the beautiful song. She wiped them off when it was over.
    “Who taught you how to play?”
    “My grandmother. She said it was written by Bach.”
    Paul smiled. “Yes, Johann Sebastian Bach, to be exact. He was a German composer and musician. I think you just found a way to impress my mother. She insisted I have a piano, even though I don’t know how to play. Prelude No. 1 is one of her favorites.”
    She moved off the bench. “Sorry, I always move to tears when I play that.”
    “Let’s have a seat,” Paul suggested.
    They sat down on the soft sofa and she fingered the material.
    “So, who was your grandmother?”
    Johanna’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not sure what you mean, but I hope you know just because I worked at a factory doesn’t mean I’m not cultured.”
    “I’d never say such a thing, but I think there’s more to you than I realize.”
    Paul took her hand in his and she pulled away as if burnt. She stood shakily. “I think I should go to my room now. I think that cake filled me up too much for dinner. Five days is a long time to be on the train. I’d like to catch up on my sleep.”
    Paul actually looked hurt, but nodded in agreement. “Of course. I’ll see you in the morning then.”
    Johanna nodded and left the room.

Chapter Six
    Paul sighed after his wife practically ran from the room. Perhaps he shouldn’t have tried to hold her hand, but he couldn’t help himself, not after she played such a wonderful song on the piano. He wanted to do more than that. He wanted to crush her in his embrace, sealing his lips with hers, but it was quite apparent that she wouldn’t allow him to do such a thing, at least not for quite a while.
    Paul eased back, knowing he had work ahead of him. He had a feeling that Johanna felt she didn’t fit in, but he was resolved to prove her wrong. He saw the sadness displayed on her face when she spoke about working at the factory. He couldn’t imagine how hard her life had been, but he vowed to make sure she had a good one from then on. First thing the following day, he’d take her shopping. Hopefully, he could find her a few dresses and have her fitted by the seamstress. Natasha was the best seamstress in Saginaw.
    Johanna might not want him anywhere near her at the moment, but he’d show her the type of man he really was and hope she’d fall in love with him in time. He certainly felt very protective of her already. It wasn’t something Paul had ever felt for a woman before, but she was his wife. How could he not feel that way about her?
    * * *
    Johanna’s legs shook all the way out of the room and up the stairs. She pressed her back against the door once she was safely inside. She could still feel Paul’s warm hand on hers. Tears ran down her face. She wanted … okay, so she wasn’t sure what she wanted exactly and was too nervous right then to understand why she felt dizzy every time Paul looked her in the eye. Was she falling for him already? No, she couldn’t do that; she barely knew him. She did hope he’d come to love her one day, though. It would be hard to go through life married to a man who would never love her.
    She tugged off her dress, unbuttoned her shoes and managed to loosen her corset enough to wiggle out of it. When she stood only in her chemise, she noticed the blankets had been drawn back. Johanna frowned. How would she get used to living in such a big house? Johanna didn’t want to have anyone wait on her; she was more than capable of doing things for herself.
    She crawled under the covers and snuggled up to her pillow, hugging another one since her bed had four of them. It was so soft and feathery. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the fragrance of lavender from somewhere