Yellow Rose Bride (17 page)

Adam wished now he had pursued the shadow that moved from the cellar. It could have been Genaro, but the ranch hand was tall and this figure was short. They'd reached Adam's horse and he stopped, turning her to face him. They gazed at each other.

“Maybe this is all too much for you to handle.”

She grinned. “You've been after me to get rid of the birds. Maybe you're the one causing all the trouble.”

He slowly returned the grin. “Have I ever given you any trouble?”

“You've been known to,” she confided, her voice barely a whisper now. She impulsively hugged him. “I'm sorry, of course you haven't. I don't know what I would have done without your ‘roundup' services lately.”

The hug caught him by surprise. After the briefest moment, his arms closed around her, and they held each other.

Vonnie pulled away and stepped back, apologizing. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I only wanted to thank you…on Elmer's behalf.”

Her attempt to lighten the moment was obviously contrived, but Adam graciously accepted the effort.

“First hug I've had from a bird. Wasn't bad.” he said, putting his foot in the stirrup. He hesitated. Stepping down, he took off his hat. Worrying it in his hand, he said softly, “I want you to know, Beth is serious. I'm going to have to set a date.”

He watched her face change. The glow left her eyes.

“I know.” She swallowed. Adam watched her fight to remain detached.

“I agreed she could set the day.” His voice sounded flat. She gave him a wan smile.

“A bride's privilege.”

“It has been in the past.”

“Vonnie…” He paused. “I don't know if I can marry her.”

“How can you not?”

He nodded, his earlier convictions faltering.

“Well, best wishes. Or is it congratulations one gives the groom? I can never remember.”

“Me either.” Neither fit the occasion.

Placing his foot back in the stirrup, he mounted. When he looked down at her, his insides tightened. “Why don't you just say it?”

She bit her lip.
Please, he prayed, don't let her cry.

“Say what?”

“That I'm a despicable man for springing Beth on you the way I did. I had my reason, but I guess it doesn't make me look any better. Family is a good thing, but sometimes it can be a burden.”

The words hung between them like a heavy rope.

Summoning a smile, she whispered, “Yes, family responsibilities come first. Beth will make you happy. I want nothing but happiness for you.”

Pain touched his heart briefly.

“Adam.”

“Yes.”

“I did love you.”

Their eyes met in the moonlight. “I loved you, too, Vonnie.”

“Have a happy life,” she whispered.

Nodding, he reined the horse and rode off.

 

Vonnie was up early the next morning. Beth's dress, or rather the thought of Beth's dress, had kept her awake all night. Did Adam have serious doubts? About the wedding? Was it possible he had discovered that he was an honest man who couldn't live a lie?

She was supposed to be a Christian. Love your neigh
bor as yourself. God couldn't be pleased with the way she coveted another woman's man. She sighed. She knew all the right words, could make the proper arguments, but living by the Word was a lot harder than talking about them. She remembered her savior's prayer in the garden.
“Nevertheless not my will, but thine be done.” God's will be done in this matter.

Dressing quickly, she twisted her hair into a knot at the base of her neck and went to check on the birds before fixing breakfast. Franz was already at work, rewiring the fence along the back side of the pens to make sure the adult male birds couldn't push free again.

“Good morning,” she called.

Franz slowly straightened, and once again she wondered if he wasn't taking on too much work. Still, she knew the small salary she'd convinced him to accept was a help to him and Audrey.

“I have a fresh cherry pie. Audrey sent it especially for you.”

“Audrey makes the best cherry pie in the county,” Vonnie said, accepting the tin that Franz had wrapped in a dish towel and kept beneath the seat of his buggy. “We'll have a piece with our lunch. Audrey's having a better week?”

“No, she just needs to keep busy. Enjoy,” he said. “Now, I must finish the fence.”

Carrying the pie into the kitchen, she stored it in the pie safe, then filled the coffeepot with water and set it on the stove. After stoking up the fire, she turned to the cabinet to get the container of coffee.

“Mother,” she called. “Are you coming down this morning?”

Silence reigned upstairs. Cammy had not been down once this week. She had taken all her meals in her room, eating and drinking sparingly.

Jerking open the cabinet door, a scream tore its way from Vonnie's throat as the freshly severed head of an ostrich fell out, striking her in the chest.

Stumbling backward, she gasped, her screams filling the kitchen as the head bounced across the floor.

The back door flew open, and Franz ran in, his face a mask of bewilderment. “Vonnie?”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” She stood frozen, staring at the bright splash of blood on the front of her dress.

He eased her out of the room, consoling her. “Stay here, little one.”

She collapsed against the wall in the hallway, eyes closed, her hands lying palm up in her lap. She suddenly felt faint and sick to her stomach.
Dear Lord, who was doing this to her?

“Vonnie? What is it? Are you hurt?” Cammy called from the top of the stairs.

Realizing she couldn't let Cammy see the ostrich head, or even know about the accidents that had been happening lately, Vonnie dropped the front of her apron so her mother wouldn't see the blood.

“A snake,” Vonnie called. “In the wood box. It startled me. Franz is taking care of it.”

“Oh, my,” Cammy murmured. “Your father will have
to be more careful when he brings in wood. Teague? Did you hear that? There was a snake in the wood box. It scared Vonnie out of a year's growth.”

“Everything is all right now,” Franz said, carrying a towel with the severed head wrapped in it. “I'll dispose of it and notify Tanner.”

“Th-thank you,” Vonnie managed. Her heart was beating so fast she could hardly catch her breath.

Frowning, Franz paused in the doorway. “Will you be all right?”

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream in rage and in fear, but she wasn't capable of either at the moment.

“I don't know, Franz. I—I never expected it to go this far.”

“Who could be doing this to you?”

“I don't know. Maybe Sheriff Tanner. He wants me to get rid of the birds. He's offered to buy me out—for a hefty sum. But I don't want to leave, and there's Momma. This is her home, and I'm not sure I could get her to leave. I don't know what I'm going to do.”

It was getting to be too much. The accidents, the work, the constant pressure.

“I don't know, maybe I should sell out, before it gets worse.”

“You can't let Lewis Tanner scare you off your own land! It might not be Tanner at all. It could be anyone. Teague had his enemies, you know.” Franz frowned. “And P.K. Baldwin was his biggest.”

“I know, but it isn't just the birds, Franz. It's everything
combined. If someone wants the birds gone so badly they would resort to this—” her gaze focused on the front of her blood-splattered dress “—what would they be willing to do next?”

“It's no secret that some people don't want the birds here,” Franz agreed. “They don't understand their nature, and anything different is something to be feared.”

“You're right. I can't let whoever it is drive me off my land. And once they get that through their heads, hopefully, the sabotage will stop.”

“That's my girl.” Squeezing her shoulder supportively, he smiled. “You be strong,
liebchen.
Soon things will be better. This has been a troubling time for you.”

With a lighter spirit, Vonnie straightened. She had to put the incident behind her. “Thank you, Franz. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“It is my pleasure to be of service,” he said, with a courtly bow. “Now, I return to my work.”

Her appetite gone, Vonnie fixed a light breakfast for Cammy, then set off to Beth's house. By the time she arrived at the Baylors', she was thinking more clearly.

“It is so good to see you,” Gillian enthused, leading her toward the parlor. “Hildy and Carolyn are having tea. Won't you join them?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Beth looked up when the two women entered the room. “Oh…Vonnie, I wasn't expecting you.”

It wasn't the most enthusiastic greeting she'd ever received, but Beth was already awash with wedding jit
ters. “I thought if you had a few moments we might go over a few details. I'd like to sketch your gown on paper before I start.”

“Oh, this is truly wonderful,” Carolyn exclaimed. “I can't wait to see what you have in mind!”

Vonnie glanced at Beth, expecting some sparkling expression of delight. Instead, her friend seemed a little too quiet, her usual exuberant expression subdued.

“If you still want me to make it.”

Beth smiled. “Of course I want you to make my dress. It wouldn't be right if you didn't. We've been friends for so long.”

Gillian disappeared, returning with a second steaming pot of tea and fresh cinnamon buns.

“Did you hear, Momma?” Beth asked. “Vonnie wants to discuss my gown.”

“Oh, thrill!” Gillian set the tray on a side table then clapped her hands. “Oh my. I've looked forward to this day since you were a child!”

“Yes, I know, Momma,” Beth mused. She glanced at Gillian. “You don't think I'm marrying too young?”

“I was your age when I married your father.”

Beth nodded, sighing wistfully. “I grew up so quickly.”

Was it her imagination or was Gillian more excited about the wedding than the bride? Vonnie took a sip of tea and watched Beth halfheartedly nibble on a warm cinnamon bun.

“How is Camilla?” Gillian asked, refreshing Carolyn's tea. “I do hope she's feeling better.”

“She is still in mourning,” Vonnie said. “It's been difficult, keeping things from her….” Vonnie paused, realizing her slip of tongue.

“Things? What things?” Hildy asked.

“A few odd things have been happening lately. Someone tampered with the fence and the ostriches got loose. Then it seems someone has been putting things in the pens for the birds to pick up. They choke easily, you know. And there are the bits of wire that have been cut in the fence so the birds can hurt themselves. But the worst—” she shuddered “—took place this morning. Someone…put a severed ostrich head in my cabinet.”

“Oh, my,” Gillian whispered, grasping the teapot handle.

Carolyn gasped. “How awful!”

“Franz was there, and he disposed of it. Otherwise, I don't know what I would have done. The most frightening thing is, how did someone get the head inside my house without me hearing him?”

“I'll bet it's that horrible Lewis Tanner,” Hildy said. “He wants you off that land. He's telling everyone who'll listen he'll get you to sell out. He'll offer whatever it takes.”

“Do you think even he would do such a horrible thing?” Beth asked.

“Beth, we're talking about Lewis Tanner,” Carolyn reminded. “He'd do anything to get his way. You know that!”

“Hmm.” Beth drifted off absently.

“Or P.K.” Vonnie voiced her suspicion before she thought.

A pall fell across the small parlor.

“Adam's father?” Beth asked.

“Vonnie,” Carolyn said, hushed. “Surely you don't think P.K. is doing this to you?”

Vonnie realized she'd spoken out of place.

“Not really. I suppose at this point everyone is a suspect in my mind.”

Although the awkward moment passed, the allegation had put a strain on the visit.

Vonnie left shortly after, promising to keep in touch. Plans for Beth's gown would get underway soon.

“B
eth, slow down. What are you saying?”

Adam stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Beth, who was babbling. He had been stacking hay in the barn when he recognized the sound of his fiancée's carriage whipping down the road. He'd waited for her, then listened in mounting fury as she told him about Vonnie's experience with the ostrich's severed head that morning.

“Adam! Vonnie found a—”

“I know what you said.”

“Then why did you ask—”

“How did someone get into the Taylor house to plant the head in the cabinet?”

“Vonnie hasn't a clue, the poor dear. She said she locked up the night before, as usual. My goodness, I don't know what I would have done,” she said, adjusting a windblown lock of hair. “I mean, to have a…a
head fall out of the cabinet and hit you and get its blood all over you…and on the floor! It…it must have been perfectly awful.” She shivered.

“Was it an adult bird?”

“She didn't say. Oh, Adam.” She grimaced. “How perfectly dreadful, to have one of your…pets…die like that. Who could do such a horrible thing?”

“The birds aren't pets, Beth. They're stock—like cattle—Vonnie's livelihood.”

“Adam, she's a seamstress, not a cattleman. Honestly, the way you jump to her defense you'd think you had some sort of personal interest in her personal welfare. The birds are a nuisance, and she should get rid of them before something perfectly wretched occurs. And, by the way, she thinks your father might have something to do with all the trouble she's been having lately. He wouldn't do something that awful, would he?”

Reaching for his saddle, he threw it across his horse, his features tight as he cinched the belt. “Excuse me, Beth, I was on my way into town.”

Beth blinked. “But, Adam, I just got here.”

“I'm sorry, but I have—”

“Business, I know.” She paused. “Vonnie's agreed to make my gown.”

Adam let the remark pass.

“Sometimes…” She stopped.

“Sometimes what?”

“Oh, I don't know. Marriage is so final.”

He nodded. “Final as a broken mirror.”

 

Adam rode into town before noon. The dusty street was nearly empty. Tossing the reins over the hitching rail, he glanced through the open door of the sheriff's office.

“Tanner.”

The sheriff shifted his bulk in the wooden chair behind the desk and looked up as Adam walked in.

“You want something, Baldwin?”

Resting both palms on the desk, Adam angled toward the sheriff.

“Get off the Taylor girl's back.”

“You her keeper now?” Tanner leaned backward, resting beefy hands across his belly. “Thought you were hitchin' up with the Baylor girl.”

“What do you know about what's going on at the Taylor ranch?”

The sheriff got up to stoke the potbellied stove.

“Someone put an ostrich head in her kitchen cabinet. Nasty…real nasty.” He chuckled.

“Stay away from the Flying Feather. Far away.” Adam's tone left no doubt of his intent if the sheriff didn't back off.

Tanner shrugged. “Don't know what you're talkin' about.”

“I think you do.”

The sheriff perched on the edge of the desk and hooked his thumbs into his belt.

“You don't run this town, Baldwin.”

Adam straightened, meeting the sheriff's hostile stare.

“When you start picking on women, killing their stock and leaving severed heads in cabinets, you're stepping over the line.”

A muscle jumped in the sheriff's jaw, and his hand shifted to the gun on his hip.

“Get out of here, Baldwin, before I throw you out.”

Stepping closer, Adam planted his forefinger in the center of Tanner's chest.

“If I ever prove that you've had anything to do with what's been going on, you'll answer to me, personally.”

Tanner managed a derisive snort that wasn't entirely convincing.

“If one more bird is found dead out there, I'm coming after you. Comprende?”

“Get out of here, Baldwin.”

“Mark my words, Lewis.”

Tanner's voice turned belligerent. “I've got nothing to do with what's going on at the Taylors'. All I've done is offer to buy her out.”

“Remember what I said.”

Adam turned and walked out.

 

The sun sank behind the large juniper in the backyard. The Flying Feather was settling down for the evening. It was that special time of night that Vonnie most favored. The day was finished, work done, the animals fed and quiet. Even the ostriches were settled early.

Stepping off the porch, she wandered toward the pens, wrapping her shawl tighter. What was she going to do
with the birds? Sell, like the sheriff wanted? Or stand up to him and try to raise and control them herself?

Linking her fingers in the fence, she pressed her face against the wire and studied the birds.

What would Teague have done? That wasn't a fair question. Teague always stood up for what he believed, even if it meant a fight.

But what did she believe was right? Staying on the ranch? Was that the right thing to do? Was it the right thing for her mother?

Cammy wasn't improving. That was clear. A letter from her aunt in San Francisco arrived today, but even when she read it to Cammy, it was as if her mother didn't recognize who had written it.

Both of Cammy's older sisters lived in San Francisco, in a house that she'd once described as “princely.” Teague himself had admitted that the family had money and hadn't been happy when Cammy married him. Not long after the wedding, the two sisters moved to San Francisco, expressing the hope that Cammy would soon grow weary of the “quaint” life and join them. But she never did. She loved Teague too much. Of course, all that changed when Teague won the birds. Cammy had as many assets as her sisters.

But Teague was gone. If Vonnie sold the ostriches and the ranch, there'd be nothing to keep them here. And it was certain that she didn't want to stay in town once Adam and Beth were married.

She continued to hang on to the fence, staring at the birds without really seeing them.

Suddenly she had the feeling she was no longer alone. A finger of fear trickled up her spine as she searched the lengthening shadows.

When Andrew stepped out of the darkness, both relief and a touch of anger washed over her.

“Andrew? Is that you?”

He stepped nearer, the rough ground exaggerating his limp.

“Sorry. I heard what happened this morning.” His breath formed a heavy vapor. “You shouldn't leave your cellar door open.”

“Oh?” She glanced over her shoulder. “I didn't realize it was open.”

Strange. She clearly remembered closing it that morning after Franz had finished storing the last of the canned goods.

“Keep it closed. Anything can wander in there.”

“Thank you, I'll remember,” she said, turning back to the house. “I was about to take a walk,” she invited. “Join me?”

It was a lovely night. The air smelled crisp and clean. Patches of snow lay about. They walked for a while, talking. At times it almost seemed that Adam was walking beside her and yet, Andrew wasn't Adam, no matter how comfortable she felt with him.

“Tell me about the trouble this morning,” Andrew said.

She told him about the severed head and its frightening implications.

“Was the rest of the animal's body found?”

“No, we could find nothing.”

“Do you suspect someone here at the Flying Feather is responsible?”

“I thought of that.” The hired hands? Mother? She laughed at the thought. Mother loved those birds and would have no reason to harm them. But…she wasn't thinking clearly these days. Then there was always Tanner. He didn't seem the least concerned about her incident.

“How did the culprit get into the house?”

“I don't know, Andrew. The doors are locked at night.”

“No one heard anything strange this morning? The animal's scream?”

“Nothing,” Vonnie conceded.

“Did Tanner ask about any of this?”

“No, and I found that strange. He didn't seem concerned about details.”

The hour grew late when they walked back to the house. Andrew offered a few suggestions, but no answers.

Blue eyes, so much like Adam's, assessed her with brotherly affection. “Be careful, Vonnie. I'd hate to think of anything happening to you.”

“Thank you, Andrew. I will.”

Bending, he brushed her cheek with a kiss. “If you feel you can leave Cammy for a while, we'll take a sleigh ride Saturday night. More snow is likely to fall.”

“I'd like that.”

A few minutes later she heard the sound of hoofbeats fading.

At times like this, it was impossible for her to believe that any Baldwin could mean her harm.

Even P.K.