It was late August when Harold Hill decided it was high time he spruced up the Emporium. The building he'd procured had received a new coat of paint both inside and out, and the windows now proudly sported the words "Professor Harold Hill's Musical Emporium;" however, they did not sport curtains, and Harold thought the empty windows left something to be desired.

It hadn't taken much cajoling to convince Marian to allow Zaneeta Shinn to watch the library for a Saturday afternoon, so shortly after one o'clock, the music professor escorted the town librarian to the Candy Kitchen for ice cream sundaes and a little bit of good, old-fashioned flirting. Once they'd finished their confections, during which Harold managed to discretely brush his knees against Marian's a time or two, the pair made their way to Davis's Dry Goods Store to do a little shopping.

"Now something like that curtain top would be nice," Harold said, pointing out the red fabric hanging over a window as they made their way to the back of the store.

Marian smothered a smile behind her hand. "You mean the valance?"

Harold nodded, then fingered the material, somewhat crestfallen. "I like this but don't particularly care for the color. I was rather hoping I could have found something in blue."

The librarian arched an inquiring eyebrow at him. "Says the man who bounded into River City festivities decked in crimson and gold."

Harold conceded her point with a sheepish grin, but then grew serious as he explained, "While I do have a particular affinity for red – especially when a certain librarian wears it! – I was hoping for something a little less flashy. Something a bit more dignified."

Marian nodded in understanding. "I think I understand. No more relying on style over substance."

Harold grinned. "Exactly!" But then, his smile faded. "I really would have preferred blue."

When Marian giggled at his forlorn look, Harold opened his mouth to defend himself, but she placed a gentle hand on his arm and gave him a disarming smile while offering an obvious suggestion. "You can always dye them, Harold."

"Yes, I know, but that's more trouble than it's worth," he said. "Besides, I wouldn't know where to begin. Making hats and signs out of cardboard is one thing. Dying material is another thing entirely."

Marian laughed and playfully tapped her beau on the nose. "You may not realize it, Professor Hill, but my talents aren't solely confined to the library."

Harold's eyes immediately darkened, and his hand found her wrist. "Let me assure you, Miss Marian, I am well aware of your many talents," he informed her in a low voice, his fingertips caressing the sensitive skin beneath them, "and I can honestly say your library talents aren't the ones I find most appealing."

Marian watched Harold's lips curve into a satisfied smile when he heard her breath catch at his heated words, but ever the proper lady, she quickly recovered and stepped away.

"Harold, someone might hear you," she scolded, albeit in a shaky voice. In a town like River City, there were always eyes and ears upon a courting couple, and Marian knew she and Harold were no exception. A wave of relief washed over her when the music professor moved away, raising his voice and fondly waving a hand in the air.

"Madam Librarian, I would never think to impugn your domestic abilities."

Marian felt her consternation melt away to good-natured annoyance and without even thinking about it, she reached out and swatted his arm. "Oh honestly, Harold!"

Harold chuckled and playfully rubbed his arm. "That's quite a punch, my dear!"

Marian arched an eyebrow at him. "And don't you forget it," she teased. Pointing to the corner, she told him, "I'll see if I can find something suitable in the dyes. You go ahead and get the rest of the items on your list."

Apparently realizing he had no say in the matter, Harold graciously acquiesced. "I will defer to your textile prowess, Miss Paroo. Besides," he grinned, "I think I saw something over there that Winthrop might fancy."

"You're going to spoil him, Harold," Marian warned, but there was affection in her voice as she said it.

Harold flashed the librarian a boyish smile and winked. "Now, now, Miss Marian, everyone needs a little spoiling every now and then. Even you."

Not quite sure what the proper response to such a comment was – or if it even merited one – Marian gave her beau a self-conscious smile before excusing herself to look at dyes.

XXX

It had been some time since Marian had purchased dye. Her mother, an accomplished seamstress, had quite the collection at home, and very rarely did she need to replenish it. As Marian perused the mercantile inventory, she was overwhelmed by the vast selection. After all, how many shades of blue did one person need? And if that weren't complicated enough, the dyes weren't in clear containers. Of course, the names were neatly printed on them, but not knowing the exact shade her beau required, the names were of little consequence to her.

Realizing the only way to discern the tint was to open each individual container, Marian began unscrewing the caps and peering inside. She could see Harold perusing the goods on the other side of the store. She'd expected to see several familiar faces when they came inside, but aside from Mr. Johnston milling about the counter, the store was completely deserted. That was somewhat surprising for a Thursday lunch hour, but Marian wasn't complaining.

Ever since Harold had proven his Think System a successful musical model, there had been no end to the constant stream of well wishers and River City-ziens eager to become friends with the town's most amiable commodity. It was a refreshing change to have a bit of quiet and enjoy some rare time together. She had even closed the library a little bit early for lunch – after a bit of convincing in the form of gentle kisses stolen between the stacks of poetry in the back corner of the library. The librarian had been surprised at his forwardness and daring – especially considering that she'd had one or two patrons at the front of the library, but when Harold's warm hand firmly settled on her waist, and he'd softly whispered his request into her ear, she'd quickly acquiesced.

Marian felt a familiar warmth creep over her as she recalled Harold's warm breath stirring the loose curls behind her ear and the subtle movements of his fingers as they casually slipped down to caress her hip. Her music professor might have turned over a new leaf when he chose to stay in River City, but he'd certainly retained his debonair ways. Marian found herself blushing and smiling like a silly schoolgirl when she realized how thankful she was that he had.

XXX

Harold loitered at the counter while Mrs. Ewing finished paying for hers purchases. The jars of jawbreakers and hard candies beckoned to his sweet tooth, but he'd already indulged in a chocolate confection at the Candy Kitchen, so the music professor ignored the urge to spend a nickel on a bag of sweets.

When Mr. Davis, proprietor of the mercantile, looked up and saw Harold eyeing the large glass jars, he smiled knowingly. "Seems like a man never outgrows the boyhood delight of a good peppermint stick or hard candy."

Harold chuckled. "I think you may be on to something there."

"Care to indulge?"

"Any other time, I'd say yes; however, I already escorted Miss Paroo a trip to the Candy Kitchen, so I'd better pass this time," Harold told him. "But I wouldn't mind purchasing one of your fishing poles."

Mr. Davis smiled. "Planning on doing a little fishing, yourself?"

Harold returned the smile. "I am, actually, but this one happens to be for one of my boys."

"Well, that's a kind thing to do," the older man replied. "Give me a few minutes. I got a shipment of brand-new ones in this morning. I'll go find the nicest pole and bring it out."

"Much obliged."

Harold tapped a familiar rhythm on the counter as Mr. Davis disappeared to his storeroom, and a few moments before the music professor realized it was awfully quiet aside from his impromptu drumming. Looking around, he quickly realized he and Marian were the only two people in the store. She was still perusing the assorted dyes across the room, her back to him as she reached up for a bottle.

He allowed himself the luxury of watching Marian as she went about her task. It wasn't often he was given the chance to do so, unobserved, and he relished the opportunity to gaze at her lovely form, his eyes stopping to rest on a particular area that had captivated his attention a few weeks before when he and Marian climbed the stairs to Winthrop Paroo's bedroom. This time, though, Mrs. Paroo and her disapproving frown were nowhere to be found, and Harold drank in the sight.

A mischievous thought crossed Harold's mind as he continued to observe his blithely unaware librarian. Grinning gleefully, he quietly made his way toward the corner of the store and crept behind her. Taking one last glance around to confirm they were, indeed, alone, he reached out and placed his palm against her waist.

Marian let out a startled shriek the moment he touched her and jumped. The uncapped dye bottle she held in her hand, jerked with her movement, spilling dark blue dye along the front of her pink skirt.

Harold valiantly worked to contain his amusement at her reaction – he'd never seen Marian react like that – not even the time he'd popped a marshmallow between those kissable lips of hers. He desperately tried to reign in his laughter – wisely ascertaining it wouldn't be well received – but he couldn't quite contain the mirth twinkling in his eyes.

Marian, on the other hand, was downright irate. "Harold Hill! Look at the mess you've made! Whatever possessed you sneak up behind me like that!"

Harold tried to affect a look of contrition and fervently prayed it would assuage Marian's anger.

"I'm sorry, darling. I had no idea you startled that easily, or I would never have done so," he tried to assure her, but Marian would have none of it.

"Anyone with one iota of common sense knows better than sneak up behind someone!" Her voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, and Harold could only surmise she did so lest she inadvertently cause more of a scene than he'd already instigated. "And you!" she continued, "Right in the middle of the store with people all around us. You might not have any concern about your reputation, but have you no regard for mine?"

Harold reached down and wrapped his hands around hers. "Darling, we're the only two in here."

Marian opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped as she glanced around and seemingly realized he was correct. "Where's Mr. Davis?" she asked, her irritation with the music professor momentarily forgotten.

Harold nodded at the back room. "I found a fishing pole I thought Winthrop would like since his got broken the other day. Mr. Davis had to retrieve it from the back room. "

Despite her anger at Harold and the fact that she was covered in dye, Marian's expression softened at this admission. "Harold, you're going to spoil him," she chided again.

True to form, Harold responded, "As I said before, everyone needs a little spoiling now and then … even you, Miss Marian." He winked at her, eliciting a bright pink blush and Harold's smile morphed into a grin. Then, remembering that she's standing before him a dye-covered skirt, his brows furrow together. "Marian, I truly am sorry for putting you in such a mess."

Marian looked down at her skirt ruefully, trying to gauge the extent of the damage done. "Fortunately, this was one of my older skirts," she sighed before nibbling on her lower lip. "Actually, I might be able to salvage it if I dye the entire thing this color."

Harold grinned. "Your resourcefulness is one of the many things I admire about you, Madam Librarian. Still, that doesn't excuse my impetuous behavior. Sometimes I don't think before acting."

"That I know," Marian affirmed with a wry smile. Glancing down at her skirt, she sighed again. "I suppose the library will have to stay closed a little later than usual today."

"I'll go right away and post a notice to that effect," Harold immediately offered.

Marian nodded gratefully. "Thank you. That's most kind."

"Think nothing of it," he assured her and gently liberated the half-full bottle of dye from her hand before plucking a new one from the shelf. "I suppose I'll add this to my purchase."

"No, I'm the one who spilled it," she argued and reached back for it.

But Harold was firm. "Now Miss Marian, I won't hear of it. You wouldn't have spilled it if I hadn't startled you. Why don't you go ahead and scurry home, and I'll square things away with Mr. Davis."

"You're certain, Harold?"

"I insist."

Marian graced him with a bemused smile. "I'm sure I'll garner many a stare as I make my way home this afternoon," she laughed.

Harold joined her before chiming in with his eternal optimism. "You never know. Perhaps you'll start a new fashion trend. Dye-blotted skirts – direct from River City!"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I rather doubt that will happen."

Suddenly quite self-conscious again of his error as Marian stood there in white and blue blotches, he infused his words with the hint of a question. "I'll see you later this evening for dinner, still?"

"Mama wouldn't hear of you cancelling on us tonight," Marian replied staunchly. "Especially not for something as silly as this."

His confidence restored, Harold gave his librarian a fond look. "Seven o'clock?"

"I'll let Mama know," Marian promised.

Harold wanted nothing more than to kiss the piano teacher right then and there, but after all the trouble he'd already caused, he figured it best to reign in that particular impulse and wait until later that evening when they had a bit more privacy. He gently shooed Marian out the door and waited until she was gone from his sight before turning back to the counter to find Mr. Davis returning from the back room with a fishing pole.

"I'm afraid there's a bit of a mess over in the corner," he informed the shop owner with a rueful smile.

Mr. Davis gave him a conspiratorial smile. "So I gathered."

Harold's eyes widened. "You do?"

"I deemed it prudent to remain in the back while you sorted things out," the shopkeeper informed him with a wink and a chuckle. "I know what it's like to have a missus and soothe ruffled feathers."

Harold grinned. "I'm afraid I'm learning."

"Well it sounds like you're a quick study, son," Mr. Davis assured him. "And Miss Marian seemed happy enough as she left, so you must be doing something right."

Harold wasn't so sure about that, but he certainly hoped the older man was correct. Bidding him a good day, he gathered his purchases and headed outside. But he stopped just as suddenly, a parcel under one arm and a fishing pole in the other, and intently peered in the glass window of Jeakin's Womens Wear. A scheming glint entered his eyes, and a moment later, a broad smile split his features. Spinning on his heel, he stepped inside the store.

XXX

When Harold arrived for dinner later that evening at the Paroo home, he had three packages tucked under his arm. Winthrop immediately began asking questions about the brown paper items wrapped with string, but Harold merely smiled and winked at the young boy. Even Marian was intrigued.

"I know the long one is the fishing pole," Marian murmured when they were finally alone in the front hall, "but what are the others?"

Harold merely grinned. "It's a secret."

Even though she continued to stare at him, evidently waiting on a clearer answer, Harold merely smiled enigmatically at her. Realizing he wasn't going to say any more, Marian gave her beau an exasperated look.

"Honestly, Harold."

The music professor grinned and playfully tapped her nose. "Honestly, Marian."

Dinner was a languid affair, with the four enjoying Mrs. Paroo's cooking, while Winthrop chattered away about his day spent at lake with his school chums. The three adults watched fondly as the once-silent little boy bubbled over with enthusiasm and Mrs. Paroo said nothing about the peas that remained on Winthrop's otherwise-cleared plate.

When the meal was finished and dishes put away, the group retired to the parlor. Although they usually indulged in a game after dinner, tonight they simply continued their conversation once settled on the couch and chairs. But Marian couldn't quite keep her gaze from wandering to the gifts, and when her younger brother spied her glances at the brown packages, he, too, became interested in them again and tugged on his sister's hand.

"Sister, who are those for?"

Marian gave her brother an affectionate smile. "I don't know, Winthrop. You'll have to ask Professor Hill."

When Winthrop looked at Harold expectantly, the music professor simply grinned. "Well, why don't you go get the small one and bring that to your mother and then bring the long one back in here."

Winthop did as instructed, but when he sat down with the long package, he looked at Harold with curiosity. "What about the other one?"

Harold smiled. "That one can stay for now. What say we let your mother open her package first?"

Winthrop nodded gleefully. "Go ahead, Mama! Let's see what you got!"

Mrs. Paroo carefully unwrapped the gift, delight coloring her features when she realized what lay between the tissue paper. "Doilies! A woman can never have too many doilies. How did you know?"

"I seem to recall you saying something similar the last time you graciously had me over for dinner," Harold chuckled, then turned to Winthrop. "Well, what are you waiting for, son?"

Needing no more encouragement, Winthrop eagerly tore at the brown paper, a joyous whoop emerging when he realized what was in his hands.

"It's a fishing pole!" he exclaimed, running to Harold and throwing his arms around the older man's neck. "Gee thanks, Professor!"

Harold hugged him tightly in return. "You're welcome, son. You can't go fishing without a proper pole, now can you?"

"You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, Professor Hill," Mrs. Paroo chuckled. "You'll be at the lake every Saturday morning." She ruffled her son's hair affectionately and gave Harold a broad smile. "It's time for bed, me boy. Say goodnight to your sister and Professor Hill and let's go upstairs."

Winthrop gave his sister a kiss and hug and turned to go, but Harold stopped him when the boy passed by the hallway table. "Winthrop, wait a moment. Why don't you go ahead and bring that other package over here to your sister."

Marian turned and looked at Harold with curious eyes, but Harold remained quiet, although Mrs. Paroo couldn't quite contain her smile. Once Winthrop deposited the package in Marian's lap and son and mother from the parlor, Marian turned her questioning gaze on Harold.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well," he replied. "Aren't you going to open your package?"

Marian's eyes narrowed in curiosity. "To what occasions do we warrant these gifts?"

Harold shrugged. "Well, I have some atoning to do with yours, and it didn't seem right to bring both you and Winthrop a gift and nothing for your mother."

Marian laughed as she untied the paper and twine, but her laughter quickly trailed away as the paper fell away to reveal a skirt, quite similar to the one Harold had inadvertently ruined, but much more fashionable and obviously more expensive. Fingering the muslin trimmed in ecru lace, the librarian glanced at Harold, a pink blush spreading across her features as she held the rather intimate gift.

"Harold," she whispered softly. "It's beautiful."

"It's not the exact same pattern and color as your other one, but it's awfully close," he offered somewhat sheepishly. When she didn't respond, he began to fidget and looked at her with hesitant eyes. "Marian, is something the matter?"

"I don't know what to say," she admitted. "This must have cost a pretty penny. The lacework alone speaks to that."

Relief bloomed across Harold's face, and he smiled. "Well, I had a little tucked away for emergencies." He glanced at the skirt and then back at Marian. "I hope it fits properly," he fretted. "Mrs. Jenkins said when you've purchased there before, you –"

Marian broke in with a horrified tone. "You asked Mrs. Jeakins? Now she'll know you purchased it for me!"

Harold captured Marian's hands between his and gazed at her. "Calm down, Madam Librarian. She knew it was for you before I even asked."

"But how?" she asked, perplexed.

A smile tugged at the corner of Harold's mouth. "She observed you walking by covered in dye."

When Marian sighed, Harold shrugged. "I thought it acceptable to explain that I had caused the accident and needed to replace the skirt."

Marian blushed a deep crimson.

"I also made a slight detour to confirm with your mother that it was the appropriate size," he admitted.

"Mama told you?" Marian asked in surprise.

Harold chuckled. "After seeing you arrive home in your newly dyed skirt, she deemed my intentions honorable and gave me her blessing to replace it."

Marian rolled her eyes. "I don't stand a chance with you two."

Harold gave her a heated glance. "Once I've set my mind on something, Miss Marian, I rarely fail to achieve it."

Marian's eyes widened in shock, and she looked away, fervently hoping Harold wouldn't notice the blush spreading across her cheeks. But of course, he did. His pleased smile when she turned back around told her as much. For a moment, Marian considered ignoring her beau's cheeky demeanor, but deciding turnabout was fair play – and after a quick glance at the stairway to confirm Mama was still occupied – Marian leaned forward and captured Harold's lips in a tender kiss, holding it for several seconds before finally pulling away and shyly murmuring, "Thank you, Harold. It's lovely."

Harold, uncharacteristically subdued by her heartfelt gesture, swallowed and cleared his throat. "I'm pleased that you like it. I'll admit I was a bit nervous purchasing ladies clothing for fear of what might be said, but when I mentioned that I was interested in it, Mrs. Jenkins politely inquired if it had anything to do with Miss Paroo who recently passed by in an intriguing outfit only moments before."

Harold and Marian both began to laugh, and he confided, "I think our secret is safe."

"I should hope so!"

Marian's hand crept into Harold's, and he looked down, pleased, before giving it a gentle squeeze. They stayed that way for a few moments, silently gazing at one another until they heard the distinct sound of Mrs. Paroo's heavier-than-necessary footsteps on the stairs. Putting some distance between them, Harold winked at Marian and removed his hand from hers.

When Mrs. Paroo entered the parlor, she gave the couple a knowing look and then grinned when she noticed the skirt in Marian's lap.

"Professor Hill, you certainly know how to choose a lovely garment. Wouldn't you say so, my dear?" she asked Marian.

Marian beamed. "Indeed, he does."

Harold chuckled. "You ladies certainly know how to puff a fellow up, don't you?" He stood and straightened his suit coat.

"As much as I hate to take my leave, I should probably retire to the boarding house and tend to some business that was put on hold today. I thank you both for a delightful evening and delicious dinner."

Marian smiled and escorted him to the door. "Thank you, Harold. The skirt is lovely. I can't wait to wear it."

Harold grinned mischievously. "I can't wait to see you wear it," he quipped.

Marian blushed a deep crimson, and Mrs. Paroo, apparently choosing to ignore his cheeky comment, took her leave with the admonishment, "Marian, when you're done saying goodbye, please come to the kitchen and help me with the dishes."

Nodding, Marian waited until the kitchen door closed before turning back to Harold. "Sometimes, I think you and Mama are in league together!"

Harold chuckled. "Perhaps we are." He slipped an arm about her waist and pulled her closer. "I had a wonderful time this evening."

Marian beamed at him. "So did I. Thank you for the gifts. They're wonderful." She lifted her lips to his in what was meant to be a gentle kiss. But when Harold's arm tightened around her waist, she sighed and parted her lips, silently encouraging him to deepen their embrace. Needing no encouragement, her beau did just that, moving his mouth against hers in a soft, unhurried kiss, seemingly oblivious to the fact her mother was mere feet away.

When he finally released her and took a step back, his eyes were twinkling. "Oh, Madam Librarian," he teasingly murmured. "I like the way you say thank you!"

"Oh, honestly Harold!" Marian protested with a gentle swat.

Harold simply chuckled and dropped a kiss against the tip of her nose. "I should leave before your mother comes out and scolds me for improper behavior." He winked and opened the door. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Marian smiled as she watched him leave. "Of course."

"Then, goodnight, my dear little librarian. I'll be thinking of you," he assured her as he stepped onto the front porch.

Marian felt a familiar warmth travel throughout her as she watched her reformed salesman bound down the steps and leave through the little gate at the front of her home. Raising two fingers to her lips, she blew a soft kiss as Harold rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

"Goodnight, my love."