Yellow Rose Bride (20 page)

Vonnie slapped the reins against the horses, and the buggy rolled off.

A
dam sat in front of the fireplace, lost in thought. Beth was a kind and lovely woman, if a bit naive. Only one hitch. He didn't love her. He'd tried to tell himself that what he was doing was all right as long as no one got hurt. But Beth would be harmed if he married her. She would be denied love, the kind of lasting love a man or woman needed. The kind he had for Vonnie. With all the problems, he loved her more now than he had seven years ago.

Beth fussed over him like a mother hen.

Vonnie made him feel like a man. He'd never catch her without an opinion on china or lace, and she wasn't afraid to voice it. Being with her was like drinking from a cold well on a hot day. She might be bullheaded, but so was he. He had a hunch God had made that mulish woman for him and he'd been too full of pride to accept the blessing.

Was it too late—even now—to correct the mistake?
He didn't want to disappoint P.K., but he'd disappoint him even more by marrying Beth.

He knew what had caused his foul mood. A man had to do the right thing. He couldn't marry Beth, not even to save Cabeza del Lobo. He'd known that for weeks, but every time he'd been around her he couldn't find the words to break off the engagement, say the words that would hurt this decent, fine young woman. She deserved a husband who loved her, not a marriage of convenience based on what she could contribute in a monetary way. P.K. would throw a fit seeing all his fine plans fall apart, but in the end he'd see the wisdom of Adam's act.

The whole scheme had been wrong from the start and he'd been a fool to go along with it. Now he had to tell Beth, then his father. He'd rather try to lasso a tornado than face either one of them. He'd take the Reverend with him to soften the blow. Tomorrow, he promised himself.

Tomorrow he was going to do what he should have done months ago.

 

He was in the barn shoeing a horse when Andrew found him. He had to admit, he was in a rare temper. He glanced at his brother.

“I noticed your black was favoring his left front foot yesterday. Have you checked the shoe lately?” Adam pumped the bellows, holding the iron shoe he was shaping in the coals.

“No,” Andrew said. “But I will, if you're in the mood to replace it.”

“Bring him over and we'll see if that's what he needs. Could be he has a stone bruise.”

“Could be a bruise,” Andrew said. “I was out in the north section the other morning, by the stream that cuts through the west corner.”

Adam stilled, his expression turning serious as the mention of the location brought his encounter with Vonnie to mind. “Were you, now?”

“Saw you and Vonnie there.”

Straightening, Adam let the tongs hang loosely in his hand as he waited for Andrew to go on.

“Thought you were engaged to Beth.”

“I am.”

Adam hated saying it, wished that it wasn't so. Andrew took a step toward him, his hands balled in fists at his side. “Back off, Andrew—”

Before he could finish, Andrew threw himself at Adam's middle. The breath exploded from him, and he staggered back against the side of the barn, cracking his head.

Reflex brought both arms up to break Andrew's hold on him. Andrew fell back, caught himself on a post in the middle of the blacksmith shed, and came up swinging, catching Adam squarely on the cheekbone.

Lunging, Andrew swung, but Adam dodged the blow. When Andrew swung again, Adam gave up trying to avoid a fight and countered with a hard right, connecting solidly with Andrew's jaw.

In the next instant, they were both rolling around on
the floor, straw flying in all directions, some blows connecting, others meeting only air. When they both came to their senses, they each had bloodied noses and Andrew's shirt was half torn off.

They stood, breathing hard, glaring at each other, knowing the physical blows were finished but still raging inside.

“What's the matter with you?” Adam demanded.

“You have no right to be with Vonnie when you're engaged to Beth!” Andrew shouted.

“I'm not with Vonnie!”

“You don't care about her. You're just going to hurt her.”

“There's nothing between me and Vonnie. She was riding that day and happened on me fixing the fence.” Adam repeated.

“Beth deserves to know what kind of man you are.”

Adam studied his brother, filled with angry humiliation. “You thinking of telling her?”

“I might.”

The last thing Adam needed was for his brother to tell Beth that he'd been with Vonnie. She'd be hurt and feel betrayed by both a friend and her fiancé. He didn't want that. He might not love Beth, but he'd never hurt her.

He picked up his jacket and headed for the house, work forgotten. Washing off at the pump, he dried with his shirt before going into the house. Later, he examined his face in the mirror over the washstand. There was a deep cut on his cheek, a lump on the point of his chin, and by morning he'd have a glorious shiner.

“Women,” he muttered.

“Boys, dinner is ready,” Alma called up the stairs.

Finishing his wash, Adam changed into clean trousers and shirt, then went down to face P.K.

Andrew looked even worse than he did, Adam decided. His bottom lip was split, his cheek bruised, and his eye was beginning to turn purple.

P.K. shook out his napkin as Alma bustled around setting dishes on the table.

“What did you boys do today?” she asked.

“Looks like they met up with a wildcat,” Pat said.

“Yeah,” Joey echoed. “Must have been a big one. Cat step on your toe?”

“Pass the tortillas,” Adam ordered.

“Well, what was it about?” Pat pressed.

“Looks to me like someone I know forgot they were grown men,” Alma sniffed.

“I stepped on a rake,” Andrew murmured.

“And you?” She nudged Adam.

“Broke through a rotten board in the hayloft.”

“Uh-huh,” Alma said. “Fell through on your face? I was not born yesterday, Adam Baldwin. Your mother would be ashamed, the way you fib. It is no matter if you two want to act like fools. Some people have better sense. Vonnie Taylor for one.”

“Vonnie Taylor?” Pat asked, reaching for another tortilla to scoop up his refried beans. “What's she got to do with Adam and Andrew fighting?”

“I hear she is selling the ranch and moving to San Francisco. Her mother has sisters there, you know.”

“She's selling the Flying Feather?” Joey asked.

“
Sí,
to Sheriff Tanner. He has an offer for his ranch, I am told, the new buyer will buy Vonnie's place also. It is the talk of the town.”

Adam noticed that P.K. was ignoring the conversation, concentrating on his plate.

Alma poured fresh coffee. “If you want to know what I think—”

“That's enough,” P.K. said quietly.

Alma sniffed and waddled back into the kitchen.

A
dam was in a bad mood by the time he reached Beth's that night. To top everything else off, his eye throbbed like a boil.

The Reverend sent a worried look. “Are you certain about this?”

“Yes sir. I'm certain.”

The older man straightened his tie. “Then let's get it over with.”

“Oh, dear me!” Beth exclaimed when she opened the door and saw Adam and the Reverend. “What happened to you?”

“A little accident.”

“A little accident! Sake's alive! Your eye looks dreadful. Mother, come see what's happened to Adam!”

“It's nothing,” he said.

“Adam!” Gillian exclaimed. “You poor thing! Come sit down, and I'll get a piece of steak to put on it. Cordy
Lou, bring a piece of meat for Adam's eye. And Reverend. How good to see you!”

“It's nothing,” Adam repeated. “You don't need to fuss.”

Beth led the two guests to the study. “You poor dear, would you like something to drink? Of course you would. Cordy Lou, bring Adam and the Reverend something warm to drink when you bring the beef!”

Adam said, “No, I just—”

“Want me to stop fussing over you. But your poor eye—and Cordy Lou always has a pot of coffee on the stove.”

“Fine.” Adam said. “Bring the coffee.” He sat down.

Gillian left the study, closing the door behind her.

Beth tried to examine his eye. “Really, Adam, what happened? It looks as though you've been in a common brawl.”

“He fell through a loose board in the loft,” the Reverend supplied.

“Fell!” Her hands flew up to cover her mouth.

“I wasn't hurt.” Fighting with Andrew, behaving like Cain and Abel over a woman. He could be hardheaded and even blind at times, but God had a way of backing him into a corner when he was out of line. And marrying Beth was out of line. Out of line in the eyes of the Lord, out of line to Beth. She was a good woman who deserved a man who would love and care for her until death. He wasn't that man. Much as he respected and honored his father, he couldn't marry a woman he didn't love. Why had he ever thought that he could?

He had to break off the marriage. The insanity had gone on for too long. He wasn't man enough to question the families' dispute many years ago, but he was now. He was going to unearth the real source of the Baldwin/Taylor feud, a grudge that had shattered more than one life. One Teague Taylor had taken to his grave.

Vonnie might not have the same wild love she'd had for him years ago. They were both older and wiser, but he had to know her feelings and he couldn't until he set Beth free.

Beth sighed. “Let's take a walk. The Reverend can visit with mother and father—”

“Not tonight, Beth.”

“Oh, let's do! It isn't so very cold, and you look like you're a bit out of sorts.”

“Beth.” Adam focused on her. “Can we have a moment in private?”

She glanced from the Reverend to him. “Is something wrong. Something's wrong, isn't it? You arrive unexpectedly, sporting a black-and-blue eye, with the Reverend, and refuse to say what's happened. Someone died, didn't they? Who? Someone close…?”

“Beth.” He took a deep breath. “There is something wrong, and there has been for months. I'm here to set it right.”

The Reverend urged softly. “Please, Beth. Sit down.”

 

“Momma, breakfast is ready! It's another fine day outside.”

“I think I'll rest a while longer.”

Lifting the shade, Vonnie let light into the bedroom. “Nelly and Susan will be here soon. We should have Beth's dress finished by early next week.”

“That's nice, dear.”

“You have another letter from Josie and Judith. Shall I read it to you?”

“From Josie and Judith?” Cammy raised, looking confused. “Yes, please.”

Vonnie read the chatty letter aloud, all about the sights of San Francisco, the lovely bay, the tea they'd hostessed earlier in the month.

“‘We do so hope you are considering our invitation to stay with us,'” Vonnie read. “‘It has been so long since we've been together, and our eagerness to see you grows. We look daily for your letter of acknowledgment. Your loving sisters, Josie and Judith.'”

“Wasn't that nice?” Vonnie said, refolding the pale pink sheets of stationery that held Josie's spidery script.

“Yes, it was,” Cammy agreed, her hand caressing the photo album that had become her constant companion.

“We'd need to leave soon, you know. While there's a break in the weather.”

“I don't know.”

“Wouldn't it be nice to see your sisters again?”

“Teague is so busy.”

“Think about it, will you, Momma?”

“I'll think about it,” Cammy said vaguely, her attention already wandering to the photo album in her lap.

“I'll bring your tea.”

Returning to the kitchen, she prepared blackberry
tea and set it on a tray to carry upstairs. As she passed from the kitchen to the stairs, she noticed that the back door was ajar. Frowning, she thought back, certain she'd closed it the night before, as she always did.

Her heart pounded when she remembered the severed head incident. Setting the tray aside, she cringed as she heard Cammy's fragile cup strike the floor and shatter.

Racing up the stairs, she slowly pushed the door to her sewing room open.

“No!” she cried. “No!”

She couldn't believe her eyes.

Beth's wedding gown, which had been so near completion, now hung in ragged ribbons on the dress form. Someone had slashed the fine silk from waist to hem. The delicate peau de soie lace was shredded. Tiny, exquisite seed pearls lay scattered across the floor.

Stunned, Vonnie slowly backed from the room.

“Vonnie?”

Spinning around, her heart in her throat, Vonnie nearly fainted in relief when she saw Eugenia standing in the open doorway.

“Child! You're white as a sheet. What's wrong?”

“S-someone—” Vonnie pointed to the destruction.

“Oh, sakes alive,” Eugenia whispered, her eyes wide with fright. “Who on
earth
could have done such a wicked thing?”

“I d-don't know. The dress was perfect when I left it last night. I—I just don't—”

“We've got to get the sheriff, now!”

“Yes,” Vonnie said. “I'll send Genaro. He was at the barn when I came in.”

Her knees suddenly too weak to hold her, Vonnie sank into a chair while Eugenia sent Genaro for Sheriff Tanner. Suki seemed to understand that something bad had happened, jumping into Vonnie's lap to lick her face. Who could have done such an awful thing? And how could they have gotten inside to do the damage?

The idea that someone had come into the house during the night, while they were sleeping, was as frightening as the incident with the ostrich's head.

She had no idea how long she sat there before Eugenia interrupted her thoughts.

“Vonnie? Sheriff Tanner's here. I'll be with your mother if you need me.”

Suki sprang off her lap, barking at the sheriff as he approached.

Vonnie looked up. “Sheriff?”

Lewis Tanner loomed over her. “Hear there's been another incident.”

“In there,” she said. “Someone's destroyed…Beth Baylor's wedding dress, sometime during the night.”

“Someone got in during the night?” Tanner stepped to the door of the sewing room and took in the devastation. “What was your mutt doing, sleeping? Did you leave a door open?”

“No. I thought I didn't. I always make sure all the
doors are locked before retiring, but the back door was ajar earlier. Eugenia, did you come in through the back door?”

“Yes, but you were upstairs.” She excused herself and went upstairs.

The sheriff strode into the sewing room and looked around.

“Nothing here. The window's locked.”

“Stuck,” Vonnie corrected. “I can't open it.”

Bending down, he picked up a pair of Vonnie's sewing shears from the floor and held them for a moment before laying them on her cutting table.

“I'll look around outside, see if any of the hands heard or saw anything, but if it's like the last time, nobody will have heard anything.”

He started toward the door, then paused.

“It's none of my business, but this is a sure sign someone is out to get you. You were smart to take my offer. You best leave before someone gets hurt.”

Vonnie met his dark gaze. “You have the ranch now. Why won't you leave me alone?”

Tanner frowned. “You sayin' you think I did this?”

“Did you?”

His face flushed a deep crimson. “I have a legitimate buyer, made you a good offer and you've accepted. I don't need to play games to get what I want.”

Laying her head in her hands, she whispered, “Why would anyone want to do this to me…to Beth.”

“Have you told anyone that you're sold out?”

“No…not yet.” It was all still unreal to her. Mother. Daddy gone. Everything gone.

Tanner broke into her thoughts. “I'll go talk to your men now.”

Unable to deal with the devastated workroom, Vonnie went to see if the commotion had disturbed Cammy.

“Momma?”

Cammy stood in the middle of her bedroom, holding her dress as if she'd forgotten what she was about to do. Eugenia sat on the couch.

“What was that noise earlier? Did you drop a plate?”

“Yes, a teacup. Sit down, Momma. We need to talk.”

“Oh, you broke a piece of the good china, didn't you? Naughty girl.”

Vonnie could have cried. Mother had regressed to when Vonnie was a child, and a sense of hopelessness washed over her.

“It wasn't the good china. Remember when we talked about going to see your sisters?”

“Josie and Judith? They were always such bossy things.”

“You remember them, Cammy.” Eugenia tried to help.

“It's been a long time since you've seen family. It's time we took that trip to California.” Vonnie couldn't tell her that she had sold the birds and the ranch. She wouldn't understand. Vonnie couldn't fathom how their lives had changed so swiftly.

“I don't know.” Cammy twisted the dress in her hands.

“We need a change of scenery. You start thinking
about what dresses you'd like to take, and I'll arrange our transportation. Eugenia is here. She'll be happy to help you pack.”

“Josie and Judith.” Cammy nodded vaguely, as if she were only now realizing who the two were. “It might be nice.”

“I've forgotten your tea,” Vonnie said. “Eugenia, would you mind to bring Momma's tea.”

“Not at all. I can spend the day if you need me.”

They went downstairs where Eugenia began sweeping up the shattered china.

“I thought I'd clear this away.”

“Thank you. I'll make a hot pot for Momma.” Vonnie hesitated. “I've sold the ranch and birds to Sheriff Tanner.”

Eugenia turned. “Oh, my dear.”

“Momma's sisters have been wanting her to come stay with them since Daddy died. I thought a visit might be good, and if everything goes well, we'll stay.”

“Oh, child,” the older woman said, reaching out to her. “I do hate to see you leave here. We've been neighbors nigh on to thirty years. But it might be a good thing for Cammy. A new place, being with family again.”

“Thank you. We'll miss you dearly.”

“And I'll miss you, but you do what you must do.”

“Yes…well, I'll fix that tea. Maybe you can help Momma sort through her dresses? She doesn't know about the sale. Please don't say anything. She wouldn't understand. I would like to leave by the end of the week.”

“I'll help with the packing,” Eugenia said, patting Vonnie's arm. “I know how difficult this must be for you. You go fix that tea and I'll see to your mother.”

The Baylor household was quiet when Vonnie rode her horse into the yard. She shook her head, thinking of the devastating news she would bring, the upheaval in Beth's life. She knew about upheaval. She'd had more than her share recently. Dismounting, she tied the reins to the porch and mounted the steps. Gillian answered the summons almost immediately.

“Good morning, Mrs. Baylor. Is Beth in?”

Shaking her head, Gillian whispered, “She's in the parlor. I haven't been able to get her to eat a bite.”

Vonnie wondered at Gillian's hushed tone. Beth couldn't know about the dress. Was she ill today?