Yellow Rose Bride (24 page)

“They're gone. They don't exist anymore as far as I'm concerned.”

“I'm glad.”

He laid the comb aside, smoothing the hair from her face with gentle hands. Weariness overtook her, and she leaned against him.

“Tired?”

“Very tired.”

Adam suddenly turned her into his arms, holding her tightly. Years fell away. He was seventeen; she was fifteen. And they were in love.

“I was scared, so scared, when I saw the house on fire,” he whispered into her hair. “I thought I had lost you again.”

Stepping back, his gaze searched hers. Then he slowly lowered his head, his mouth inches from hers.

“Forgive me. I've wanted to do this for so long.”

His hands cupped her face gently as she responded to his kiss with long-denied emotion. He abruptly broke the embrace, turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Sinking onto the bed, Vonnie touched her fingertips to her lips, where his taste remained. She would have cried but she was too empty to cry anymore.

A
fter breakfast, Vonnie wandered out to the veranda early the next morning. The air was brisk but hinted of spring. She noticed P.K. wrapped warmly, basking in the sunshine.

“Sit down,” he said, indicating a wicker chair.

“I don't want to disturb you. I'm waiting for Mother to get dressed. We're going out to the Flying Feather to see what we might salvage.”

White teeth flashed in a rare smile. “Sit down. You know me well enough to know that I am never polite.”

She acquiesced. The two sat in shared silence, watching the sun creep across the frozen countryside. She was struck by the strong resemblance between father and son. In another thirty years Adam would look like this, still ruggedly masculine and in command.

“Your father was a good man.”

“He was,” she agreed, relaxing for the first time.
“I'm sorry you harbored such deep distrust for each other. You are both good men.”

His focus grew distant. “The past no longer matters. Don't know what happened to Franz. Must have gone out of his mind when Audrey passed.”

“He wanted so desperately to return her piano.”

Silence, then.

“Do you love my boy?”

The question took her by surprise. She searched for an answer. Which one of his boys? But then he was a wise old owl. He knew perfectly well she would know to which son he referred. Did she dare speak her heart? Of course she did. She was tired of games. “With all my heart.”

Silence settled over the veranda once more. A peacefulness surrounded them, like a lull after a horrific storm.

“Don't think that I'm too old to remember what it was like to be young and in love.”

“You were able to marry the woman you loved,” she gently reminded him.

“Yes. I was. Wind's picking up, child,” he said after a while. “You're going to catch a chill. Go inside and have Alma fix you breakfast.”

Rising, Vonnie prepared to do as he said. “Forgive yourself, P.K.” She smiled. “I have forgiven you.”

He nodded. “I'm working on it.”

She left him sitting on the porch, rubbing the right leg stretched out in front of him. She had once thought of him as evil. Now she saw him as a tired old man.

 

“Did you know about the jewels, Momma?” Vonnie stood looking at the smoldering house remains, wondering how life had so quickly gotten out of hand. Nothing much was left of Teague Taylor's homestead, or his earthly life. A wife who could no longer function, a daughter who had no idea where to turn except to the Lord. And a smoking pile of worthless rubble. It was true what they said: you enter the world with nothing but your soul, and you leave it the same way.

The birds appeared unaffected by the previous night's turbulent events. They wandered around the pens, thrusting their necks high above the wire as if searching for a reason for the destruction.

Cammy huddled against the chilly wind, her eyes red and swollen from crying. The past months had taken an irreversible toll on her mother. Vonnie knew she would never again be the rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed woman of years past.

“I didn't want to know.”

Vonnie turned to look directly at her. “But you did know the jewels were in the cellar?”

Her mother nodded. “I suspected—no, I knew Franz buried the jewels in the cellar. I came upon him quite unexpectedly that day. It wasn't often I went down there, but you were gone and Teague was with the birds. I needed a jar of tomatoes for the stew. I found Franz digging a hole and I asked why.”

“And he told you?”

“No, not the truth, but I saw the pouch. Teague had
awakened many a night sweating, shouting. He'd described the pouch to me before. I recognized it immediately. I didn't know why Franz would have it, but I didn't ask.”

“And you didn't confront Franz?”

“His behavior worried me, so I pretended I believed his explanation that he was burying old coins for safe keeping.”

Poor Momma. She had carried the secret as long as the men.

Cammy's tone dropped to a whisper. “Teague never suspected—that's the important thing to remember. Your father never knew those jewels were mere feet from where he slept every night. Had he known…”

The women turned at the sound of hoofbeats. Sheriff Tanner rode up, his heavy bulk a familiar sight.

“Miz Cammy. Miss Vonnie.”

“Sheriff,” Vonnie acknowledged.

“Right sorry about the fire.” He removed his hat, fingering it. “I'm even more regretful to bring more bad news.”

“More?” Her heart sank. How could there possibly be more?

“Seems your buyer's gotten cold feet. He's backing out of the deal.”

Oddly enough, the news did little to disconcert her. Rather it brought a rush of sweet relief, though she was solely dependent upon God for where she and her mother would sleep that night. Giving up the ranch and
the birds was hard; at the moment, she wasn't sure she could have given them to a complete stranger.

“Know you must be upset,” Tanner mumbled.

“Everything happens for a reason.” She turned, her eyes meeting his straightforwardly. “Thank you for riding out.”

The sheriff nodded. “You and your mother going to be okay?”

Vonnie reached for Cammy's hand. “We're going to make it—through the grace of God. We're survivors.”

And she knew they would make it. God had seen her through losing Adam, then watching the only man she would ever love announce his engagement to another woman, watching that man battle with pride—right and wrong—and ultimately break the engagement. Family death, vile pranks to run her off her land, fire and now this. She was back to square one. But He wouldn't abandon her now, or ever.

Still an onerous duty lay before her. She didn't want to leave for San Francisco without a buyer, someone who would love the land as much as she and her father had. She had to humble herself, go to Adam and accept his earlier offer to purchase the Flying Feather shortly after Teague's death. She bit her lower lip, dreading the prospect. The house was gone, but a Baldwin would be more interested in the land. The birds were an asset, a worrisome one to be disposed of quickly.

 

Adam glanced up when a tap sounded at the door. “Yes.”

“Adam?”

A devious smile shaped the corners of his mouth. He checked his pocket watch. By his calculations, she was nearly on time. Tanner would have made his announcement and she was now running back here with singed tail feathers to invite him to buy the Flying Feather. It would be a good many years before he told her the name of the former buyer, P.K. Baldwin, and why he had mysteriously backed out of the deal. Adam had been surprised how easily P.K. had agreed to back out, to let Adam have his way for once. Unfortunately for Vonnie, he planned to let her stew in her own juice for a while. He grinned.

“May I come in? I need to speak to you.”

He got up and went to the door to greet her. Her cheeks were wind kissed, her hair blown from her cold and blustery ride. She spared him a brief glance when she brushed past him.

“I'm sorry to bother you, but something unfortunate has come up.”

“More unfortunate than your house burning to the ground?”

She shook her head, unbuttoning her cloak. “It seems like bad luck has struck again.”

“Oh?” He motioned for her to take a seat, debating on how much rope to allow her to hang herself.

Adam, be merciful, as God is merciful to you.
An old saying of Alma's rang in his head.

Vonnie sat down. “My buyer has backed out.”

Seating himself behind the desk, Adam reached for the coffee carafe. He glanced up, silently inviting her to join him. She declined.

“Backed out, huh? That has got to be upsetting.” She would never want for anything. He, through God's grace, would personally see to that. Dad had been unpredictably calm about the news of his brief marriage—after the initial outburst. He'd come around. When Adam asked him to withdraw his offer to buy the Flying Feather, so that he, Adam, could propose to Vonnie a second time, P.K. had accepted the news with awkwardness but no restrictions. It would take some getting used to, but P.K. would eventually accept the idea of Baldwin/Taylor blood running through his grandbabies' veins.

“Yes.” She interrupted his musings. “I was wondering…I mean Momma and I are leaving shortly and I was—” She sprang out of the chair and started to pace in front of the desk.

He leaned back, crossing his hands across his trim middle.
Tell her, Baldwin
…just not yet. She'd put him through a lot the past seven years. What's a little humble pie compared to seven years of pain?

“Wondering?” he inquired.

She whirled and faced him, planting her hands on the edge of the desk. “You can have my land and birds if you still want them.”

He pretended to be floored. He dropped his jaw, widened his eyes. “Really?”

She nodded. “It's yours if you still want it—you did offer to buy it,” she reminded.

His right hand came to his temple. “Did I? Wasn't that months ago?”

“Yes, but it's still the same land and birds.”

“Oh, birds, I remember those birds quite well.”

She drew a deep breath and held it. “Then you'll buy?”

“Hmm.” He cupped his chin. “Buy the Flying Feather? Well, I guess I might be interested.”

She visibly wilted. “Thank you. I don't want to leave until I'm sure the land is in good hands.”

“You think Taylor land going to a Baldwin will rest your mind?”

“I know that you love this land, this county, as much as I do. Yes, I will feel better knowing you have it, Adam.”

He shrugged. “Okay. When are you leaving?”

“Saturday.”

“Three days. That doesn't allow much time.”

She turned and ran her hand along the low row of books lining the shelves. The books had always fascinated her, even as a young woman. Adam grinned. They would be hers now.

“You'll have the money by then?”

“Of course.” He leaned back in the chair. “Do you want cash?”

“Cash is preferable.”

“All right. I'll have twenty thousand cash—”

She turned abruptly. “Twenty thousand?”

He frowned. “You had another price in mind?”

“Thirty thousand! That's what Tanner's buyer was offering.”

“Well, now, I'm not Tanner's buyer, am I?” He grinned and reached for his coffee. “And unless I miss my guess, it's a buyer's market.”

Her upper lip formed a stubborn pout. “Then I'm not selling.”

The smugness in his tone was clearly getting to her.
Baldwin, you're going to pay dearly for this.
But right now, the temptation to tease her was worth whatever price she'd inflict.

“Then I'm not buying.” He took a sip from the cup.

She spun back around to face the books, and he knew that she was about to blow.
How dare he?
she must be thinking. Just because he had her over a barrel he thought he could steal her blind?

He approached her from behind, leaning in, his mouth close to her ear. Her unique scent, fresh air, a hint of lemon, teased his senses and he closed his eyes and silently praised God. She was where she ought to be—here with him, soon to be in his arms and in his heart forever.

“Think about it, sweetheart. Why should I buy your land when I'm going to get it for free?”

Her breath caught and her body tensed. For the briefest of moments, she struggled against his embrace and then gave in. She nestled more deeply in the warmth of his arms. “What makes you think I would
give
you my land, Adam Baldwin?”

“I believe it's called community property?”

He slowly turned her to face him, allowing a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in. She lifted her eyes to meet his. Could she see his love—his absolute devotion and surrender? Her eyes clouded with uncertainty.

“Do I need to make myself clearer?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I'd like that very much, since Momma and I planned to leave in three short…very short days.”

He shook his head, sobering. “You're not going anywhere in three days or three years. Cammy can visit her sisters—or you can go too for a couple of weeks, but then you're coming home.”

“Home being…?” she prodded softly.

He kissed her then, leaving no doubt as to his intent. Lifting his head a good long moment later, he prompted, “Doesn't Ecclesiastes say there is a time for every season? A time to love, a time to laugh…”