“I…it’s that there’s so much work right now. I’ve got orders stacked on my cutting table, the birds are taking more time than I imagined, and there’s Mother…. I doubt spring will be any slower.”
“Oh, yes.” Beth patted her hand consolingly. “I understand your mother isn’t feeling well.”
“Daddy’s death has devastated her. She can’t seem to get her life back in order.”
“Of course,” Hildy murmured. She glanced at Beth. “How thoughtless of us to try and put more on you. It’s just that we love you and value your work so highly. And spring…well, that’s months away!”
“I appreciate that, Hildy, Beth. But I really don’t know how I could take on more work right now.”
“I understand completely,” Beth said. “I’m disappointed, but I understand your dilemma. It’s that Adam and I so hoped…”
Avoiding Beth’s gaze, Vonnie fidgeted with her glass.
Gathering her purse and gloves, Beth mustered a brave smile. “I’d like to leave the invitation open…at least for a while.” She viewed Vonnie hopefully. “Promise you’ll at least think about it? It would mean so much to me.”
“Beth,” Hildy cautioned. “Vonnie shouldn’t be pressured right now. If she can’t make the gown, she can’t.”
“Of course. It was inconsiderate of me to press,” Beth relented. “Is there anything I can do to help you, Vonnie? I would like very much to make this transition easier for you.”
In spite of a multitude of reservations, Vonnie felt herself softening. If she had a Christ-like spirit she would put her pettiness aside and make Beth’s special day…special.
“When you set the date, Beth, I’ll work with you. It would mean that I have to bring in Nelly Fredicks and Susan Matthews to help. I couldn’t possibly finish the dress alone and there will be an additional cost—”
“Oh, the cost isn’t important,” Beth assured her. “If Nelly and Susan can help, that would be wonderful!”
Right now the nagging feeling of empathy was worse than the thought of making the gown. She felt she would be letting Beth down on the most important day of her life. But it seemed so unfair. How could she make the gown that Beth would wear to marry Adam?
“Well, we must be running along,” Beth said. Picking up her bag, she smiled. “I’ve a thousand things to do before the wedding.”
And you have almost seven months to do them.
Where is your graciousness? Vonnie told herself. Your sense of compassion? This isn’t Beth’s fault. It’s Adam’s.
Vonnie walked the two young women to the door and watched as they drove off down the lane. Upon parting, Beth and Hildy made vague references to getting together again soon. Soon winter would be here making frequent visits impossible.
Vonnie hoped she hadn’t offended Beth. Her request had caught her off guard; she’d handled the situation badly.
Two days later Sheriff Tanner returned.
“Sheriff.”
“Miss Taylor,” he said, thumbing his hat to the back of his head. “Wondered if you had time to think over our earlier conversation?”
“Regarding the birds?”
“Regarding my buyer. The man has cold cash and he’s eager to relieve you of your problems. I hope by now you see the wisdom of selling out.”
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Vonnie said, folding her arms against her body and leaning against the door frame. “I see no reason to sell my land or birds.”
“Well, now, that’s foolhardy, Miss Taylor.” He pointedly studied the outbuildings, pens and surrounding acreage. “Lot of work here for a little gal like you. Genaro and Roel are getting on in years. You think you can keep a place like this going on your own?”
She shrugged. “Men drop by every week looking for work. Young, strong men. Keeping responsible help hasn’t been that difficult.”
She didn’t know why she was against the idea of selling. Plain mulishness because the sheriff was being so pushy, she supposed. At times it would be a relief to be spared so much responsibility. No, it wasn’t the request. It was who was doing the asking that got under her skin. Teague had frequently said he had no use for Lewis Tanner; consequently his prejudice had rubbed off on her.
“Heard your ma still ain’t doing well. Seems to me selling out would be to your advantage. Heard you got relations in Frisco. Why not sell out, take your ma to California and let her get back on her feet? The change would do her good.” He smiled, his beard darker than sin. “If you give it serious thought you’ll see I’m right.”
Vonnie fought the thread of sudden fear that shot through her. She held his challenging gaze. Why, he was threatening her!
“This is my mother’s home. She has no plans to leave. If you want to sell your property you’re welcome to do so. I’m not selling mine.”
The sheriff’s features tightened. “I can’t sell my land because of your birds,” he growled, pointing a sausage finger at her. “You, little lady, are getting on my nerves!”
Vonnie stood firm. The man was offensive and rude! “I won’t be pressured into selling my land, or my birds. Or into moving. Is that clear?”
He took another tack.
“If it’s the buyer you’re concerned about—” he ran a hammy hand over his cheek “—then I’ll buy your property.”
She laughed in surprise. “You?”
“Me. I could use the land.”
“I don’t want to move.”
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars an acre, plus ten thousand for the house and the birds.”
She mentally figured the sum in her head. “That’s—why that’s—a fortune!” Why, she and Mother could live their life in luxury.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I’m not selling.”
“Admit it! With Teague gone, a couple of women can’t run this place. It makes no sense.”
“This is our home,” Vonnie contended.
Tanner’s features hardened. “You’re being stubborn. You know I’m right. Take the offer.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, wishing he hadn’t made the proposition so tempting. The land and birds weren’t that valuable, so why would he offer such an exorbitant amount?
“Take a week,” he argued. “Think about it. Talk it over with your mother. You’ll see it’s a very generous offer.”
Yes, it was generous. Too generous. How did a sheriff get that much money?
“You’ll not get another one to match it.” He fished his meaty hand from his pocket. “I took the liberty of having an agreement drawn up. I’ll leave it with you. You sign it, send it to me at the sheriff’s office, and I’ll have your money within a week.”
He extended the paper to her and, after hesitating, she took it. Taking it wasn’t the same as agreeing, she told herself.
“Sign it,” he urged. “And get on with your life.”
“Good day, Sheriff.”
After a pointed hesitation, the sheriff turned on his heel and went to his horse. Hauling his bulk astride, he gave her one last glance, then rode away.
Vonnie stepped back and slammed the door, then leaned against it and closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened. Furious with herself for letting the sheriff get to her like that, she pounded the door with her fist.
“Adam Baldwin! This is all your fault!”
It was irrational, but somehow it seemed to her, at that moment, that the whole rotten situation was Adam’s fault.
“Why didn’t you love me enough to fight for me?”
There. She’d said it. To herself, assuredly, but she’d said it. The thing that had been gnawing at her for seven long years. And now that she’d said it to herself, she was going to say it to Adam. He hadn’t loved her enough to fight for her. Yes, she had insisted on annulling the marriage, but he had agreed. Without a fight.
Her decision made, she grabbed her bonnet and rushed out of the house without thought of consequence.
Quickly saddling her ho
rse, she rode at a fast clip toward the Baldwin ranch with Suki following, tongue lolling out as she loped along behind.
Knowing that Adam would be working outside, Vonnie checked the barn first. She found him there, mucking out stalls.
Dust motes floated in the air. The fragrance of freshly cut hay mixed with that of horse manure and seasoned wood. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the dim barn interior.
She stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at him.
Turning, he caught her staring. “What are you doing here?”
His low voice brought her out of her trance. Lifting her chin, she took a deep breath, then said, “I have something I need to say, Adam.”
“Oh?” He leaned on the hay fork. “This should be interesting.”
His amusement fed her fury.
“Only the lowest, vilest kind of animal would have his fiancée ask his former wife to make her wedding gown!” Her accusation ricocheted off the barn wood.
He sobered. Straightening, he carefully leaned the pitchfork against the stall. “I didn’t want Beth to ask you to make her dress.”
“Well, she did.”
“And you think I encouraged her to ask you?”
“Why else would she?”
“Well, let’s see. Because you’re friends? Because you make beautiful dresses? Because you’re the best seamstress around? Any of those reasons ring a bell with you?”
She hated it when he was logical.
“Then why didn’t you head her off? Why didn’t you tell her I was too busy?”
“Because I’m not running your business,” he returned. “You tell her you can’t do it. Make up a reasonable excuse. You’ve got too much work as it is.”
“You’re absolutely right I’ve got too much work. The birds—”
“Sell the birds.”
She gasped “What?”
“Sell the birds!”
“I can’t. They’re Daddy’s—”
“Teague’s gone. The birds are yours. You’re hanging on to them out of pure orneriness.”
Stung and looking for a fight, she planted her hands on her hips. “I’d rather be stubborn than a coward, Adam Baldwin.”
“Coward!” he bellowed.
“Only a coward would run whining to the sheriff about my birds.”
“Where did you get that cockamamie idea? I don’t need Lewis Tanner to take care of my problems. Seems like you need somebody, though, since you can’t keep those birds in their pens.”
“That wasn’t my fault!”
“Then whose fault is it?” He towered over her, his face flushed with heat and anger.
“Yours!” she shouted, suddenly remembering why she’d come here in the first place. “Everything…” Her breath caught. “Everything’s your fault!”
A puzzled look crossed his face. “My fault? How is your being unable to keep your birds in their pens my fault?”
The words burst into her throat. Before she could stop them, they rolled out unchecked. “Because you wouldn’t fight for me. You didn’t love me enough to fight for me!”
She could have cut her tongue out. How could she have said that? But now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop.
He shifted his hand on one hip. “What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t love me enough to fight for me.” Horrified, she heard her voice break.
He looked as if she’d slapped him.
“Where do you come off accusing me of that? If you recall, lady, I wanted to fight for you. You were the one who said you wanted ‘to pretend the marriage never happened.’”
“I was fifteen. You were wiser—you should have known better.” To her horror, she was crying.
Anger tightened his features. “I loved you more than my life, Vonnie. It killed me to walk away from you that night. I did it because that’s what you wanted.”
A sob caught in her throat. “Do you even know the meaning of the word love?”
“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not laying this on me. The problem was you didn’t love me.”
“I did,” she whispered. “I did, Adam.” A sob caught in her throat.
Turning away, he clenched his fists and raised his eyes toward the barn loft.
She needed proof that he had cared about her back then, that all these years of mourning him had been justified. “What were we doing the first time we kissed?”
Turning back, he met her eyes. She could never remember him looking so virile, so attractive—so forbidden.
“What were we doing?”
“You don’t remember, do you? How can you say you cared when you can’t even remember.” She remembered every day, every hour, every moment they had spent together.
“We were standing under the juniper near Liken’s Pond.”
“Where were we when we had our first argument?”
“At the Doughertys’ barn dance. You thought I paid too much attention to Lucinda Brown. It was—” he pinned her with a challenging look “—eight-thirty on a Friday night and it was cold out. Unusually cold. I’d just gotten you a cup of cider and you turned on your heel and walked off with your nose in the air.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The day I sprained my ankle?”
“You insisted on trying to jump off the haystack, and you landed wrong. You were wearing a blue-sprigged dress with white lace and some other sort of frilly stuff around the collar. And—” he leaned closer “—you were so pretty I wanted to kiss you right then and there.
“I had to take you home on my horse, and if I remember right, I was late getting home. P.K. was angry, but I told him a snake spooked my horse, and it threw me and ran away and I had to walk home. I missed supper that night.”
The air in the barn was suddenly deathly still.
“Why didn’t you just tell him that we’d gotten married, that I was going to be your wife until the day I died,” she whispered. His jaw firmed, and she could see obstinacy flare in his eyes.
“We weren’t married at the time.”
Furious, Vonnie shoved at his chest, throwing him off balance.
Before she could shove him again, Adam grabbed her arms. “Will you calm down?”
“I am calm.”
“You’re pitching a temper fit.”
They glared at each other for an emotion-charged moment, before he released her. “You’re right, we were young, but it’s too late to change things now.”
Her lips trembled. “Yes, you’re engaged to be married.”
“You don’t have to remind me of that.”
Her fingers tingled with the desire to touch him, to brush her fingertips across his face, to explore his rugged features. The realization of what she’d lost was too much to endure.
“I’m sorry I wounded your pride,” she said quietly. “I know you’ll never forgive me. I never meant to hurt you.” Even to her ears her voice sounded small, vulnerable, in the large barn. “I’ve relived that night a thousand times. If I could change one moment, I would, but I can’t.”
“That’s nice to hear, but it changes nothing.”
She closed her eyes, momentarily, before opening them to look up at him. “I still think you should have ordered Beth not to ask me to make the dress.”
She walked out of the barn, head held high, and mounted her horse.
As she rode away, she glanced back to see Adam watching from the barn door. She kneed the mare into a gallop, heading toward the Flying Feather with Suki trotting behind.
Chapter Eleven
Vonnie drove the buckboard into town in late October for supplies. Running the ranch and household was wearing her down. Lord, what am I going to do if Mama doesn’t pull out of her despair? I can’t face this alone.
She tied the team to the hitching rail and turned to see Beth and Hildy Mae bearing down on her.
“How fortunate to bump into you!” Beth exclaimed. “I was going to ride out to the ranch later, but now you’ve saved me the trouble.”
“I have?”
What could Beth want now?
“It’s about my wedding gown,” Beth said. She dropped her voice. “I’m worried sick. You are going to make it, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Beth…I told you—”
“Because I wouldn’t feel married if you didn’t. My goodness, we’ve been friends forever. Promise me right here and now you’ll make that gown.”
“I will, Beth. Have…you set the date?”
Beth heaved a sigh. “I think I’m leaning toward a fall ceremony now—definitely fall, if not next winter.”
Vonnie smiled, recognizing the sincerity on her friend’s lovely face. The uncomfortable situation wasn’t Beth’s fault. If she had to work day and night, she would make her gown and it would be one of her most lovely works. “Rest assured, Beth. I will make your gown. I thought I had promised you.”
“Oh, you did! I just know how much work you have, and I was afraid you might have had second thoughts.”
“I’ve given you my word.”
If only the words weren’t bitter as gall.
A faint blush of early-winter light filtered through the windowpane. Vonnie rolled to her side struggling to adjust her eyes to the light. The clock chimed six times.
The pane needs cleaning. Maybe she would ask Franz to do it.
No, she couldn’t keep imposing on Franz. He had been over every day for the last three months to help. There was a limit to his kindness, and the ladies at church soon wouldn’t be able to help with Audrey. Snow would come.
Dressing quickly, she knocked on Cammy’s door before going downstairs.
“Momma?”
When there was no answer, she opened the door a crack. Cammy sat in front of the window in her dressing gown, as if she planned to get dressed, like she had every morning for as long as Vonnie could remember. Vonnie knew that was not her intention today. After a while, she would crawl back into bed and sleep the day away.
“Momma, it’s a lovely day. Let’s bundle up tightly and go for a ride. Maybe go see Audrey.”
“No. I’m…not feeling well,” Cammy said, passing the tips of her fingers across her forehead in a gesture that was becoming all too familiar.
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