Lori Copeland - Yellow Rose Bride

The boy turned away. “Put it back. We can’t take it. It’s not ours.”

“Are you crazy? And leave it for someone else?” El’s eyes darted to Franz and P.K., then back to Teague. Thrusting the pouch into the boy’s clenched fist, he growled, “Look, I’m not proud of what happened, either, but it happened. Keep your mouth shut—I’m going to search the bodies.”

Teague watched as El rolled the farmer’s lifeless form onto its back and searched the coveralls. Removing a gold pocket watch, he tossed it to Teague.

Teague stared at the ill-gotten gain, fighting back a wave of sickness.

When he looked up again, P.K. had stopped short to lean on his shovel, his eyes fastened on Teague. His gaze hardened. Disgust was evident in his strained features.

Teague swallowed. He wanted to shout that it wasn’t his pouch or watch, that El had forced it on him, but his horror at what he had seen stilled his tongue. Words failed him. Loathing burned hot in P.K.’s eyes as he spun on his heel and walked off.

As the last spadeful of dirt covered the graves, P.K. Baldwin averted his eyes. A muscle worked tightly in his jaw, and condemnation burned brightly in his eyes.

The soldiers stood motionless, staring at the five fresh graves. They turned and walked back to the horses.

As El passed Teague, he grinned. “Keep your mouth shut.”

Teague winced. “Those jewels have blood on them!”

El’s features hardened. “Don’t be a fool. You’ve got a family to think of. We all do.”

Swinging into his saddle, El motioned the small party to move out.

Teague stared at the pouch, bile rising to his throat. Spiraling out of the saddle, he stumbled to the bushes and lost the little bit of food they’d scavenged that day.

Amarillo, Texas

1898—33 years later

The most memorable event in Vonnie Taylor’s life took place in rural Amarillo in the late summer of ’98 when Adam Baldwin predictably announced his engagement to Beth Baylor.

“I do declare that Adam Baldwin is the best-looking man in Potter County.” Hildy Mae Addison’s eyes were riveted to the gorgeous sight. “Just looking at him makes my heart flutter like a butterfly’s wings!”

“Hildy Mae!” Mora Dawson slapped a hand across her mouth. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“For what?” The young woman giggled. “I know a good-looking man when I see one.”

“Very good looks,” Carolyn Henderson concluded.

Vonnie edged away, eyeing the tray of cherry tarts, attempting a show of enthusiasm she didn’t feel. “My, doesn’t the pastry look wonderful?”

Mora sighed. “I wonder if Beth knows how lucky she is.”

Carolyn nodded. “She knows. And even if she didn’t, she’d say she did.”

Giggles broke out. Beth was known to go to any lengths to keep peace. At times she could be insanely agreeable. Yet, everyone knew the Baldwin/Baylor marriage was arranged by the senior Baldwin. Remember that, Vonnie. Arranged…but Adam had consented.

“Ladies,” Vonnie cautioned. “Beth is a lovely person.”

The murmurs readily concurred that Beth was the nicest person anyone could hope to meet. And the luckiest. When the eldest Baldwin son’s engagement to Beth Baylor was announced, the town’s eligible female population had groaned with envy.

Vonnie casually bit into flaky crust, feigning indifference to the conversation though her insides churned like a waterwheel. And now, the nicest person in Potter County would marry the best-looking man in Texas.

How utterly ideal.

The girls nodded when Janie Bennett and her fiancé, Edward Lassitor, strolled by.

“Evening, Jane, Edward.”

“Evening, Hildy.” Jane flashed friendly smiles at the women. “Mora, Carolyn, Vonnie.”

Simultaneous pleasantries prevailed.

“Janie’s so nice,” Carolyn said as the couple walked on. “I can scarcely wait to see her gown. Vonnie, you can’t keep us in suspense any longer! What’s it like?”

“Ah, but you’ll have to wait until the wedding.” Vonnie tried for a teasing tone, doing her best not to allow her true feelings to show. Beth might be the nicest girl in the county, but few wouldn’t agree that Vonnie Taylor was the prettiest. Coal-black hair, amethyst-colored eyes, dimples men found irresistible. Half Cherokee, half white. Yet no one ever spoke of Vonnie’s mixed heritage. Not even P.K. Baldwin.

“You’re not serious! You’re honestly going to make us wait until the wedding?” Mora and Carolyn chorused.

Hildy’s generous lips formed a pout. “You’re cruel!”

Her words held no malice. Vonnie knew she wasn’t just pretty fluff. Brides came from as far away as the West Coast to purchase one of her exquisite gowns. At the tender age of twelve, she had shown an astonishing ability with needle and thread. By fifteen, anyone who saw her work marveled that she was so gifted. She could craft a simple piece of lace into a work of art.

“I’ll bet the gown’s frighteningly expensive,” Mora guessed.

Carolyn sniffed. “Edward can afford it.”

“Edward won’t be paying for it. Tool Bennett is paying for everything,” Mora confided in a hushed whisper.

“Who said?”

“I overheard Mrs. Bennett telling Martha Gibbings at the church social last week. The wedding is costing a fortune, but Tool won’t hear of anything less than the very best for his only daughter.”

“Oh dear,” Hildy’s voice dipped to a reverent whisper. “Will you look at those eyes? Have you ever seen such a deep blue! There’s not a man here who could hold a candle to him.” To Vonnie’s consternation Adam Baldwin was once again the focus of attention.

“He’s so handsome he makes my teeth ache,” Hildy confessed. “And he’s engaged.” She brightened. “To our Beth—though I’m absolutely blue with envy.”

Vonnie had to agree she was blue, emotionally. Adam, in dark gray trousers, frock coat and burgundy vest, was the best-looking man—not just in Potter County, but the world. But then she was partial to this particular Baldwin. Painfully so.

She picked up a silver tray of bizcotela and brightly offered it around. “Cookies, anyone?”

“I’ve heard he’s quite the gentleman,” Carolyn said as she thoughtfully selected a sweet. “Beth said he hung wash for her when she was feeling poorly last week.”

“He didn’t!”

“He did! Beth said so herself.” Carolyn bent closer. “But she made me promise absolute secrecy, so don’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Three heads bobbed. Three pair of covetous eyes returned to Adam’s sculpted features. He was deep in conversation with the governor.

“I tell you, son,” the governor blustered, “the railroad coming in is the best thing that’s ever happened to us!”

“Oh,” Hildy murmured. “He sees us.” She flashed a grin. “Personally? I’d take any one of the Baldwin brothers.”

Carolyn giggled. “To where, darlin’?”

“Who cares?” Mora and Carolyn parroted in unison. Vonnie shook her head.

The four men bore a striking resemblance; it was impossible to say who was the most attractive. They had dark brown, wavy hair, the irresistible Baldwin sky-blue eyes, and skin tanned to nut brown by the hot Texas sun.

Adam, Andrew, Joey, Pat. The brothers were the crème de la crème of Potter County, easily at home in buckskin or expensive Boston tweed.

“Why, Carolyn, what would James say if he heard you drooling over the Baldwin brothers?” Hildy chided.

Carolyn’s cheeks pinked and she daintily lifted her cup to her mouth. “James and I are only friends.”

“Of course, you are.” Vonnie finally entered the good-natured conversation, encouraged by the change in subject.