Yellow Rose Bride (23 page)

The parlor, fully consumed by flames now, poured smoke into the foyer. Fire licked at the edge of the Aubusson carpet and at the foyer wall as Franz crawled toward the stairs.

Adam was returning from the Schuylers' when he passed the entrance to the Flying Feather. He glanced toward the house.

Suki's yapping caught his attention. He pulled his horse to a standstill when he saw the dog loping toward
him. It was unusual for her to be so far from the house. She was clearly agitated, barking with high-pitched yips.

“What's wrong, girl?”

The little dog danced up and down excitedly, barking.

“Suki,” he greeted, getting off the horse.

The little dog ran to him, yapping, then reversed her direction and ran back toward home a few paces, then back to Adam.

“What is it?” he asked, peering into the distance. A thick cloud of black smoke rolled across the darkening sky.

Remounting, he rode hard up the lane. The east side of the house was engulfed in flames. The farmhands had formed a bucket line to fight the fire.

“Where's Vonnie?” Adam shouted.

“Not here!” Roel shouted back.

“Where is she?”

Confusion drowned out the reply.

Spotting Franz's carriage, Adam ran to check on the nervous horses tied to a post near the barn. “Where's Franz?” he yelled. No one had seen him. And he hadn't been at his house when Adam called to pay his respect.

“Anyone in there?” Adam asked, stepping from one to another. Neighbors had begun to arrive and passed buckets of water down the line. “Where's Cammy?”

No one seemed to know.

Turning, Adam ran back to Roel. “Are you sure there's no one in the house? Did anyone go in?”

“We do not know, Señor Baldwin. We only saw the smoke a few moments ago. We are trying to douse the fire.”

Dashing to the back porch, Adam kicked in the door.

“Señor Baldwin!” Roel shouted.

Shielding his face from the heat, Adam dropped to his knees and felt his way through the dense smoke.

“Vonnie! Cammy!”

He tied a hanky across his nose and mouth, and bending low, he fought his way to the stairs. At the top of the first landing, he tripped over Franz's sprawled body.

Pressing his fingers to the old man's neck, he frowned. No pulse.

Adam fought his way to Vonnie's bedroom and kicked open the door. Finding it empty, he continued to the end of the hall, where he knew Teague and Cammy had shared a room. There, he found a confused Cammy huddled at the side of the bed. She cried out.

“Teague, I'm glad you're here. The smoke scares me,” she whimpered.

“I'm going to carry you out,” Adam said gently.

When she hesitated, he swung her into his arms and headed back to the stairs.

Upright now, smoke burned his eyes and his lungs nearly burst from lack of oxygen. He stumbled downstairs and out onto the porch with Cammy in his arms.

More neighbors had arrived in buggies to join the bucket brigade.

“Son!” P.K. yelled. Joey took Cammy from Adam's arms and Pat helped him off the porch.

P.K.'s expression tightened. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Franz—” Adam choked. “Franz is in there.”

“Franz?” P.K. started into the burning house.

Gripping his father by the shoulder, Adam said. “He's gone, Dad. Leave him be.”

Stunned, P.K. turned to look at him. A great sadness touched his eyes.

“There was nothing I could do. Smoke, or maybe even a heart attack from shock.”

Squeezing P.K.'s shoulder, Adam headed to the side yard where several women were hovering over Cammy.

“Adam,” Beth cried. She rushed to meet him. “You could have died in there—”

“Beth, what are you doing here?”

“We heard the Taylor house was on fire. Naturally, Daddy wanted to help—”

Adam turned back to Cammy. “Where's Vonnie? Was she in the house?”

“Why, I don't know. Maybe she went to Audrey's. She was baking a cake.”

Panic filled Adam's voice. “Think, Cammy, where was she when you last saw her? She was getting ready to take you to Franz Schuyler's. Was she downstairs?”

Suki nipped at Adam's boot, jumping up and down, up and down. It was unnatural, even for her, to be so aggressive.

Darting toward the burning house, she darted back again, yipping a high-pitched bark.

“Get back, Suki!” Pat shouted.

“Suki!” Joey yelled when the dog tangled in his feet. She darted back to the burning house.

“The dog's nuts!”

“No, she's not.” Adam's eyes suddenly glimpsed movement at the attic window. He realized what the dog was trying to tell him.

“Vonnie's in there.”

Those close by turned at his words, and before he could be stopped, he charged back into the house.

The flames licked high, the heat too intense now to enter the back. He raced around the house and, with the help of four men, broke down the front door. Fire had not reached the kitchen or front hall. Pulling the handkerchief back across his face, he squinted against the gray, choking smoke and crept on his knees until he reached the stairs.

Leaping quickly, he grabbed the railing and pulled himself up and over it, swinging onto the second-floor landing.

He raced up the attic stairs and threw his shoulder against the door.

“Vonnie!” he shouted. The fire's roar engulfed his words.

Kicking the door, he fought to gain entrance. He groped the bar and finally dislodged the barrier. The door gave way.

“Vonnie?” he thundered. The room was a roaring inferno. Rolls of tulle, yards of colorful ribbon, bolts of elegant lace, spools of delicate thread blazed out of control.

In the far corner, a sewing form draped with pieces of fabric, the pattern still pinned in place, hoisted hot flames to the low ceiling.

Above the flaming holocaust he heard a weak cry.

“Vonnie!”

“I'm here,” a faint cry answered.

Dropping to his stomach, Adam crawled across the floor, groping for her. His hand finally found hers. Grasping her tightly, he held on to the hand that he had taken a vow to “love until death do us part.”

“Adam,” she choked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the door but was forced back by orange flames licking halfway up the steps.

“I'm going to try the window,” he yelled.

Her arms tightened. “It's stuck…won't open.”

Backing into the workroom, he fought his way along the back wall through the billowing smoke.

He used a chair to break the window; the flames multiplied, turning the room into a fiery cavern.

He pushed her through to the eaves and shouted for her to hold on as he crawled out beside her.

A roar went up from the crowd that had gathered below to watch and wait, anxiety written on every face.

Pulling Vonnie into his arms, he held her. Burying his hands in her hair, he looked down into her smoke-smudged face. He whispered in a husky, choked voice, “Little one, you make me nervous.”

Laying her hand gently across his cheek, she turned her head and coughed. “It seems I'll do anything to get your attention.”

F
riends and neighbors hovered close as Adam carried Vonnie to the backyard. He laid her on the ground and knelt beside her until she gradually oriented her senses.

“I…I'm all right,” she said. “Momma—?”

“She's safe. Neighbors are looking after her.”

“Franz?”

Adam shook his head.

“Adam, it was Franz. Franz was behind all the ugly things that have been happening,” she whispered. “Apparently Audrey's illness was slowly driving him insane. He thought he'd hid jewels in the cellar. In his troubled mind, he thought that if he could find the jewels he could buy Audrey's piano back. That's why he was constantly down in the cellar. He wasn't cleaning. He was searching.

“It goes deeper than that. Daddy threw the jewels away, but later Franz came back for them. Franz says he buried them in our cellar thinking no one would think to
look there. But poor Franz forgot where he buried them. He's dug and searched for weeks, and can't find them.”

“Why would he want them now?”

“Because, in his confused state he thought he could buy back Audrey's piano. Carolyn won't ever sell, but Franz thought that it was just a matter of offering more money.” Vonnie broke off. “And P.K.—”

“My father what?”

“Franz told P.K. what he planned to do, and that he wanted to split the money between the two of them. He thought so many years had passed that P.K. might now accept the money. Your father agreed, said he could put it to good use.”

Adam shook his head, pain flooding his features. “I can't believe P.K. would take blood money.”

“Maybe he needed it badly. There's rumor he's having financial problems.” She looked away, unwilling to pry into his business.

“The rumors are true, but P.K. would never take blood money. Never.”

“Unless he thought his reasons were valid.”

“I can't imagine him taking it for any reason.”

Vonnie turned to stare at the licking flames. The Flying Feather, her home, was no more. “Well, the jewels are supposedly buried deep in the cellar.”

“And that's where they'll stay. No one but you, me, Franz and P.K. know about the jewels. Franz is gone and P.K. will never tell anyone about them. I can promise you that.”

Someday he might tell her the lengths he'd gone to to learn the story behind the endless feud, to make it possible for there to be a Vonnie and Adam, but not tonight. “I don't know many things, but I do know my father and his ethics. He's stubborn and has his share of faults, but he deals fairly.”

A low rumble turned all heads to the flames. A great roar suddenly went up, bringing a stunned cry from the spectators.

The house collapsed in a shower of sparks. Smoke billowed and debris shot upward, then dropped. Neighbors scurried to stomp tiny wildfires, leaving small black circles dotting the yard.

“The birds!” she cried suddenly.

“They're taken care of,” Adam said. “Genaro and Roel moved them to safety.”

Vonnie put her face in her hands. “Oh, Adam,” she sobbed. “Andrew threw a rock through my window.”

“Andrew? You saw him?”

Andrew stepped from the shadows. “She's right, I did, but I can explain.” He glanced at Adam, then back at Vonnie's questioning look.

“I saw you and Adam when he was mending fence by the pond. He was leading you on, playing you for a fool. I knew about the strange things happening here, and I didn't want you to get hurt. I was afraid you wouldn't leave the ranch.”

“So you broke my window?”

“I threw that rock through the window to scare you
into leaving. I thought it would be best for everyone if you were away from here…away from Adam.”

“Andrew.” She reached for his hand.

“I'm sorry. It wasn't the best way. I see that now.” His eyes switched to Adam. “I guess I've been wrong about a lot of things.”

He stopped when they saw P.K. approaching.

Sparing Vonnie a glance, P.K. inquired gruffly. “Are you all right?”

“Shaken, but greatly indebted to Adam,” she said. It was the first time in her life P.K. Baldwin had ever addressed her personally.

Drawing Vonnie to his side, Adam said quietly. “You're coming home with me.”

“Adam, I can't.” She watched P.K., walking away looking old and beaten.

“Don't argue.” Taking her arm, Adam turned to his brother. “Andrew, will you see that Cammy is taken to the house immediately?”

 

Adam caught up with P.K. as he crossed the foyer and headed for the study. “Dad, can I have a word with you?”

P.K. grunted. “Save it until morning.”

Adam stepped in front of the double-paneled door. His eyes met his father's. “It can't wait until morning.”

Grumbling, P.K. pushed past him and entered the room. Adam followed, closing the door behind him. P.K. moved to stoke the low-burning fire, refusing to look up.

“Is it true that Franz buried the jewels in the Taylor cellar.”

“What jewels?” P.K. stirred the fire.

“No more games, Dad.”

Jabbing a log, P.K. kept silent. Tension was so thick Adam felt he could slice it. But he was not leaving the room until P.K. admitted the missing ingredient in the longstanding feud. If he didn't, the grudge would never cease.

“Dad,” he repeated.

“All right!” P.K. flung the poker into the embers. His anger dissipated as quickly as it had flared. “Franz buried the jewels in Teague's basement. I didn't know about it until recently.”

“But you were willing to accept a share of the profit. Why? Why now, when you refused thirty-three years ago?”

“I didn't want that money, never wanted that money.” He turned tired eyes on him. “I never wanted that money. Will that day never fade? Will I take that hour to the grave with me?”

“Teague and Franz did.”

Adam couldn't remember his father ever looking so beaten. P.K. moved to a chair and sat down, burying his face in his hands. “What do you want to know?”

Adam crossed the floor, kneeling beside his father. “You've taught me to honor, love and respect God. You shaped me into a man, yet all I can remember of my childhood is the hatred you had for Teague Taylor. I
know the story behind the jewels, and how they were acquired. I want to know the real reason you hated Teague so bitterly and he you. You don't bear the same hatred toward El Johnson or Franz.”

“He disappointed me. I thought he was a better man than that.”

“Than what? To take something that was forced on him?”

“I wouldn't have taken them.”

“You did take them. By association. The four of you rode away with those jewels that day. Four of you, Dad. Does it matter if you did or did not want them? Teague may have carried them, but you were all guilty.”

“No.” P.K. shook his head. “I'm a man of God. I would not have done that.”

“Teague was a man of God, too, and Franz loved the Lord. El was the one who ransacked the wagon, why not hate El?”

“El Johnson meant nothing to me—never saw him more than a couple of times on the battlefield. He moved on. I am not responsible for El Johnson.”

“But you were responsible for Teague.” Slowly light dawned. Teague was different, even from Franz. P.K. had loved Teague.

Openly weeping, P.K. admitted Adam's thoughts. “Teague was like a brother. I loved…that man. When he took those jewels it did something to me—filled me with a hot rage. He was a better man than that. I expected more from him.”

“And apparently he expected more from you. You didn't trust his intentions.” Over the years, the two men had allowed bitterness, pride and misunderstanding to destroy a once-sterling friendship. Both men had been too proud to back down. “Why didn't you go to Teague and ask why he did what he did?”

“I did—once. He told me to get off his property and never come back. I granted him his wish.”

Adam rose and moved to the desk. “Teague was a proud man. You knew that. If you accused him of being less than honorable, you wounded his pride. His reputation. His soul. If he had accused you of the same, would you have felt any differently?”

P.K. sat for a very long time, staring into the fire. Finally, he said, “No. I would have felt the same.”

“So all along, the hatred has grown and spilled over into your children's lives and the feud amounts to little more than one man's expectations of another man.” Adam shook his head. “Aren't you the one who taught me that man will let you down every time? Man is an imperfect creature. Did you forget your own lessons?”

“Apparently so.”

“Well, it's over. Teague is dead, his wife and daughter burned out of their home. You know Vonnie and Cammy are moving to San Francisco?”

“I know.”

Adam turned to face him. “How do you know?”

“I…heard.”

“Then you know Vonnie's sold out to Tanner.”

“So I understand.”

Something wasn't right. Adam knew when P.K. was hedging, and right now that was exactly what he was doing. So he added casually, “I heard she got fleeced.”

“Fleeced!” P.K. glanced up. “She did not get fleeced. She got a lot more for that land and those birds than they're worth!”

“How would you know?”

“I know because…” He snapped his mouth shut.

Adam lifted a brow. “Yes?” For a moment Adam thought he was about to confess to buying the Flying Feather, but he couldn't have. P.K. was in deep financial trouble. Or was he? Would the money from those jewels accomplish what P.K. and Teague couldn't in life? A truce.

Suddenly it was as clear as a running spring: P.K. had agreed to accept Franz's offer of the money for no other reason than to save Teague's birds. A man like P.K. would accept such money for no other reason. He turned accusing eyes on his father. P.K. stiffened. “Oh all right! I'd hoped I'd never have to tell you, but I'm buying those stupid feathered nuisances!”

“Through Tanner?”

“Through Tanner. I was supposed to have the money to him by the end of the week and nobody would know I was the buyer.” Defeat bent the old man's shoulders. “Now I can't buy the land or the birds. The jewels will never be found.”

Adam tried to digest this news. P.K. had planned to
buy the Flying Feather—to accept blood money, to save a dear friend and sworn enemy. He shook his head to clear the thought. Man was crazy. How did God deal with idiotic humans? Yet every man had his weakness; every family had its secret.

“What will happen to Teague's family now?” P.K. asked.

Clearing his throat, Adam sat down behind the desk. He picked up a pencil and tapped the end on the polished wood, took a deep breath and said, “While we're on the subject, there's something I should have told you years ago.”

“Oh?” P.K. lifted his head.

 

Alma turned down the wick on the hall lamp, jumping as if she'd been shot when she heard P.K. boom, “You what?”

Shaking her head, the housekeeper scurried up the stairway.

Alma fussed over the two women, ordering bathwater heated, providing warm gowns for Cammy and Vonnie, and supplying a light supper for them all. She was a whirlwind of activity, accepting nothing but complete compliance with her mothering.

Vonnie stood at her bedroom window and stared out at the darkness. How strange it felt to be under the Baldwins' roof. It seemed it had been her due all along. The lamplight reflected her silhouette, and she smiled. The robe Alma loaned her was so large it fell off her shoulders.

She was working a tangle out of her freshly washed hair when Adam knocked and then entered.

“Has Alma taken good care of you?”

“She has been the proverbial mother hen.”

His hair was still wet from his bath. He was wearing a blue shirt and matching trousers. A large white bandage covered the back of one hand.

Vonnie was acutely aware, when he came to stand behind her, of the smell of soap clinging pleasantly to his skin.

“What about you?” he asked softly.

“I'm wondering why your father allowed us to be here, considering his feelings toward all Taylors.”

Removing the comb from her fingers, he drew it gently through the tangles in her hair. She closed her eyes, drinking in the moment.

“Perhaps he saw the truth today. What happened all those years ago is no longer relevant. It was a tragic mistake, but it should not have stood between four friends. P.K. realizes that now.”

He pulled the comb through her hair, creating an ebony curtain down her back.

“What about the jewels?”