Lori Copeland - Yellow Rose Bride

Hildy suddenly froze, her mouth formed around a cookie. “He’s walking this way.”

The women’s eyes focused on Adam effortlessly weaving his way across the crowded room. His gaze lightly skimmed Vonnie as he approached the four women. “Ladies?”

Carolyn blushed cherry-red. “Mr. Baldwin.”

He cocked his head. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, my stars, no,” Hildy said. She glanced at Vonnie.

“No?” He smiled, showing even, white teeth beneath a dark tan. “Then I trust you’re having a good time?”

“Oh, wonderful,” Hildy said.

“Everything’s so nice,” Carolyn murmured.

“The food’s delicious,” Mora assured him.

He nodded. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves.” His eyes returned to Vonnie. Offering his left arm, he smiled. “Would you do me the honor of having a glass of punch?”

Vonnie’s breath caught when his eyes skimmed her with easy familiarity. She swallowed. “Of course.”

Mora, Hildy and Carolyn stood aside as Adam escorted her to the refreshment center.

Sipping from a cup, Vonnie met Adam’s eyes in silent challenge. Eyes the color of a Montana sky stared into hers. Indeed, Adam Baldwin could make a woman’s head spin.

“You look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you. We were commenting that Beth is positively radiant.”

His eyes flicked briefly to his fiancée, who was chatting with Carolyn’s father, the honorable Judge Clive Henderson. “Beth is a beautiful woman.”

His voice set off the same familiar rush of emotion deep inside Vonnie. The resonant baritone left her feeling slightly giddy. Seven years had failed to change anything.

“You’re very fortunate. Beth will make a wonderful mate.”

“Yes, so I’m told.”

“Have you set a date?”

“Not yet.”

The woodsy spice of his cologne circled her. Beneath crystal chandeliers, where dappled prisms of light swirled among the smiling couples, she’d never felt more miserable.

Discreetly stepping closer, Adam whispered softly against her ear. “Why are you here?”

“You need to ask?”

Faking a blissful smile, Vonnie gripped the cup tightly. Her dress of yellow silk trimmed with black lace ruffles whispered delicately against the coarse fabric of his dark gray trousers.

His voice held a slight edge now. “Do you plan to make a scene?”

She peered up at him, her eyes wide as if the mere thought of making a scene was scandalous. “Me? Heavens, no. Why would I make a scene?”

“Strong hunch,” he said, tight-lipped.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. We’re a close-knit community. If any member of the church failed to show up at an event of this magnitude, the neighbors would talk.”

A muscle tightened in his jaw.

She smiled, skimming the room.

“My mother seems to be enjoying herself. She’s eaten at least six petits fours.” Vonnie focused on the fragile-looking woman sitting inside the veranda doorway. Cammy Taylor, a quiet, unassuming lady, sipped punch, giving polite interest to Vera Clark’s endless chatter. Vera appeared to take Cammy’s nodding courtesy for rapt attention, but Vonnie knew better. Her mother wasn’t interested in Vera’s gout. She came tonight to spite P.K. Baldwin.

Adam’s warm breath fanned her ear, and for a giddy moment the room tilted. “I notice your father isn’t worried about proprieties.”

“Father?” She laughed. “A team of wild horses couldn’t have brought him here.”

Coolness shadowed Adam’s eyes.

She tilted a violet glance up at him and clarified, though it wasn’t necessary. “I believe his exact words were, ‘I’d sooner be in a room of rattlers.’”

Chiseled lips parted to reveal a row of perfectly matched teeth as he accepted the lethal thrust. “You’ll be sure to give Teague my best.”

“He’ll be thrilled.”

Lifting a dark brow, Adam appeared to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. When she didn’t respond, he said quietly, “There’s bound to be more you have to say.”

“Yes. I hope you both will be very happy.”

She set the cup aside and quickly walked away. Ignoring the shocked expressions on her friends’ faces, Vonnie swept by them and disappeared onto the veranda. Adam covered the awkward moment by casually threading his way through the crowd, following her.

Acknowledging the various greetings, he trailed close on Vonnie’s heels, pulling the veranda double doors closed behind him for privacy.

“All right,” he accused. “Say what you came here to say.”

“You really want to hear it?”

“Vonnie, don’t make a scene,” he warned.

Whirling, her eyes locked with his in a spirited challenge. “Over you? Don’t make me laugh.”

“What are you really doing here tonight?”

Her brow lifted with mockery. “Who would have a better reason to be here?”

“You’re going to be difficult about this, aren’t you? I hope we can handle this in a civil manner.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist and stepped to a low wall covered in dying bougainvillea. “I’m not sure I can be civil.”

Propping a boot on the flowered garden ledge, he stood silent. Finally he said, “You’re looking good.”

Moving another step away, she surveyed the brilliant sky. The stars looked so close she was sure she could reach up and touch them. She could remember only one other night when they’d been so bright, so perfect.

“You’re not obligated to say that.”

He looked away impatiently. “I wasn’t saying it because I thought I had to say it.”

“Then, thank you.” Her voice was even more unsteady than she’d feared.

Silence stretched between them.

“Why did you come?” he repeated. Grasping her by the shoulders, he shook her gently. “What did you expect?”

What did she expect? Resentment flooded her. What did she expect? Tears burned her eyes and she blinked.

Turning away, he said, “Stop looking at me that way.”

She closed her eyes to keep from seeing him at all.

His voice held quiet desperation now. “I don’t know what you expected.” He struggled for the right words. “You didn’t think it would just go away, did you?”

“I don’t know what I thought, but I didn’t expect you to marry Beth.” She heard the hurt in her voice.

For the briefest of moments she thought she saw compassion in his eyes. But then it was gone. She steeled herself against the feelings roiling inside. “Congratulations. With the Baylors’ land and your family’s wealth, the Baldwins will control a sizable chunk of Potter County.”

“I’m not marrying Beth to spite you.”

“Then why are you marrying her?” Vonnie held her breath as she waited for the answer. If you say you love her, I’ll die.

“You know why I’m marrying her.” He refused to meet her eyes.

She averted her gaze. Yes, she knew—his father had arranged the union. P.K. had always wanted the Baylor land.

Lord, how can I bear this? I love him beyond words. How can I let him go to another woman—even to Beth, who would make him a devoted wife? Calm me, Lord, help me be strong, and help me veil how this is tearing me apart.

This time he was the one who looked away. “What does love have to do with it?”

“Are you saying you’re not in love with her?”

His voice turned harsh again. “I’m marrying Beth, understand?”

Oh, she understood. She understood only too well. He was like his father: headstrong and brash. She shivered, drawing the tulle-and-lace scarf closer over her shoulders. She suddenly felt chilled to the bone, though the night was hot. Hadn’t she known it would come to this? Hadn’t she told herself a million times it would end this way? He would never tell Beth. Nor would she. Ever.