Yellow Rose Bride

by Lori Copeland

  Vonnie suppressed a sigh. “At least get dressed. I’m making pancakes for breakfast. You love pancakes.”

  “I’m not hungry—”

  “Mother, if you don’t come downstairs,” Vonnie threatened, “I’m going to dress you like a rag doll and personally carry you down!” It must be a hint of Teague’s temper surfacing that made her impatient with her mother today. But, Vonnie reminded herself, Teague had never lost patience with Cammy.

  The older woman’s lower lip trembled. Opening her mouth, she quickly closed it again. Her mouth curled down at the corners; tears welled in her eyes. “I’m a burden on you.”

  “Momma,” Vonnie said, knelt beside Cammy’s chair and took the thin, cool hands in her own. “You’re not a burden to anyone. I worry about you. It’s not like you to sit up here and do nothing. Daddy would be heart-broken to see you like this. He liked you doing things, knitting, cooking. You know it’s true.”

  Cammy focused on her daughter’s face. “You’re right,” she said. “You’re right. Teague would be disappointed with me, wouldn’t he?”

  “Yes, Mother, he would.”

  Cammy’s fingertips briefly touched Vonnie’s cheek. “I’m sorry, darling child. I have been a burden. I miss your father so. He’s been gone so long.”

  “It’s all right to miss him, Momma. I do, too.” Every day was a trial without Teague’s revitalizing authority. No thunderous sound of his laughter, no voice calling out unexpectedly, “Puddin’, get out here! There’s something I want you to see!”

  “He was such a fine man,” Cammy whispered. “So good. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. It seems I can’t…think clearly.”

  “I know and it’s understandable, but you’ve got to try. Begin by getting yourself dressed and coming downstairs to breakfast. I’m making the best blueberry pancakes you’ve ever tasted!”

  “You do that,” Cammy said, her eyes brightening, “and I’ll eat a whole stack of them.”

  Hugging her tightly, Vonnie felt tears stinging her eyes. Today was going to be a turning point. Soon life would be normal again.

  “Ten minutes, Momma.”

  Tripping downstairs, she hummed a tune. Maybe she was beginning to pull out of her grief. Oh, the sorrow hadn’t lessened. She knew that. But maybe Momma wouldn’t drown in it.

  She got out the fixings for pancakes, pausing to stare past the blue-and-white checked curtains to the ostrich pens. What if Mama never got any better? What would they do? She set the big blue mixing bowl in the center of the table and dropped into a chair, hands gripped tightly together. “Lord, be with her. I can take care of her physically, but I can’t clear her mind or give her a reason to go on living. If it be Your will, give Momma back to me. Please.”

  Ten minutes later, Vonnie had the big iron skillet hot and the pancake batter mixed.

  “Where are those hotcakes?” Cammy asked, stepping into the kitchen. She was dressed in a dark blue wool dress that had been one of Teague’s favorites. Vonnie felt so relieved laughter bubbled up inside her.

  “Sit yourself down at the table,” she said, pouring a cup of coffee. “And get your mouth set for a feast.”

  Fifteen minutes later, their plates nearly licked clean, mother and daughter lingered over cups of coffee. For the first time in months, the atmosphere in the kitchen felt normal. Comfortable, effortless, relaxed.

  “This is good,” Cammy said. “I didn’t know how much I’d missed sitting at this table with you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, Momma.”

  “I haven’t been myself lately, have I?”

  Vonnie smiled. Cammy had always possessed an inner strength that many admired, and it wasn’t likely to change, but during the months since Teague’s shockingly sudden death, she had wavered—understandable for a woman who had lost a vital part of herself. Hopefully, they were putting that behind them now. Together, they would go on without Teague, remembering the joy he had brought into their lives. Now if she could put Adam in the same box, tie it neatly and resume her life, too…Cammy had an abiding faith in God that would see her through awful tragedy. Did she have that same deep faith? Sometimes she feared she didn’t…not like Momma.

  Sighing, Cammy studied her hands. “It’s been so…difficult. Your father and I have been together so long—”

  Vonnie squeezed her hand, then jumped when someone pounded on the back door.

  Startled, Cammy sat up straighter. “Who would come visiting so early in the morning?”

  “I don’t know,” Vonnie hurried to answer the impatient summons. Opening the door, she saw the hired hand, his face a mask of concern.

  “Roel? What’s wrong?”

  “Buenos dias, Señorita Taylor. Two of the birds, they are very sickly this morning. Someone’s been in the pen…you should come quickly.”

  “Two more?” Vonnie breathed. “Momma, I’ve got to check the birds.”

  “Go ahead,” Cammy waved Vonnie out the door. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

  “Thanks, Momma.”

  Vonnie followed Roel out to the pens, and she immediately saw that he was right. Two of the ostriches were “drooping” again. Standing alone in separate corners of the pen, they looked dull and listless.

  Entering the holding crib, Vonnie approached the rooster closest her. The adult male was smaller than the hen, with prettier feathers. His bright red legs meant he was breeding now.

  “Quiet,” she crooned, not sure she knew what she was doing. “I want to look at you a bit.”

  Slowly edging closer, she held out her hand until she reached the bird. Cautiously, she circled him, keeping an eye on him but out of reach of his feet in case he decided to kick. This morning he was too ill to be combative.

  Smoothing feathers that suddenly seemed dusty and ugly, Vonnie examined the bird. Just the day before, the animal had seemed perfectly healthy.

  “Roel, did anything disturb the birds last night?”

  “No, señorita. I’d have heard them.”

  Roel was right. Someone had been in the pens. “This bird has several cuts, bad ones, on this side of his neck. Get me the salve from the shed, will you?”

  “Sí, immediately.”

  Roel returned with the jar of salve, and Vonnie applied it to the fresh cuts. Moving to the other bird, she examined it and found the same cuts and abrasions. She treated the bird accordingly.

  When she was finished, she handed the salve back to Roel and then walked the full length of the pen, running her bare hand along the wire.

  “Ouch!” she cried softly. She shook her hand, flinging drops of blood across her skirt. Investigating the injury, she found a fresh cut across her index finger. Wrapping a handkerchief around her finger, she bent to examine the fence.

  “How can this be?” she exclaimed softly.

  A short piece of wire was wrapped around the fence where two pieces came together to form a square. Enough of the ends had been left sticking out to catch and slice, but not enough to be readily seen. It would take someone running their hand over the wire to find it.

  “Or the birds rubbing along the fence,” she muttered. “Roel, come here.”

  “Sí?”

  “See this?”

  Bending closer, Roel focused on the jagged end of wire. “Sí, but I do not understand. I checked this section of fence early this morning.”

  “We’ll walk every foot of wire, running our hands along every inch. Wear gloves—you’ll cut yourself. Locate every bit of ragged ends, and remove it immediately. This wire was intentionally rigged to injure the birds.”

  “Sí…but who could have done such a thing?”

  “That’s a good question,” she mused. “A very good question.”

  Vonnie thought about the answer while they both walked the fence. Who would want to hurt the ostriches? Sheriff Tanner came to mind. He wanted her to sell the birds. Failing that, he wanted her to sell him her land. Either way, the birds would be gone, and that was all he wanted.


  But would he go this far?

  Yes, she decided. Lewis Tanner would go as far as he needed to achieve an end.

  The question was, what was she going to do about it?

  After that, Vonnie went to the pens first thing each morning, running her hands along the wire to make sure there were no barbed spurs to harm the birds. Either Roel or Genaro performed the same ritual at dark, as well as listening for any disturbance during the night.

  Cammy was less inclined to seclude herself in her room lately, but her apathy had returned. Again she retreated into her own world.

  For once, Vonnie was too distracted to worry about her. Between watching the birds and trying to keep up with her sewing, there was scarcely a free moment.

  One Sunday morning, Vonnie convinced Cammy to dress and attend church with her. Out of habit, they sat in the same pew they’d occupied since Vonnie was born.

  Automatically holding the songbook for Cammy, Vonnie kept her eyes away from the Baldwin pew, but she knew what she would find. Beth smiling up at Adam, looking for the world like an angel as her lilting soprano blended harmoniously with his baritone in a spirited rendition of “Blessed Assurance.”

  Someone seriously needed to bless her assurance.

  The times she’d sat in this same pew and watched Adam and Andrew make faces at her…

  More than once, P.K. had thumped his sons on the head with his knuckles to settle them down.

  Her mind snapped back to the service as the pastor stood and opened his Bible.

  After the sermon, folks greeted friends and neighbors. It was a social hour, the hour of brotherly friendship.

  Vonnie and Cammy made their way outside and ran into Judge Henderson, his wife, Maddy, and daughter, Carolyn.

  “Camilla, it’s so good to see you out and about again,” Maddy exclaimed, “and Vonnie, you look lovely. One of your designs?”

  “Yes, it is.” Vonnie’s hand self-consciously smoothed the skirt of her dress. The striped, changeable rose silk trimmed with black velvet bands and Vandykes of white Irish guipure lace was striking. The buffalo felt hat trimmed with black velvet and black ostrich feather gave the ensemble a French look she had copied from a catalog.

  “It’s been so long since we’ve seen you,” Maddy chided. “You must come for tea this afternoon. We’ll have a long visit and catch up on things. We’d so love to have you.”

  “Why, that would be lovely,” Vonnie said. “Wouldn’t it, Mother?”

  “I don’t know, Maddy.” Cammy sounded vague. “Maybe not this time.”

  Maddy wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Nonsense. Shall we say four o’clock?”

  Cammy glanced imploringly at Vonnie.

  “That’s very kind of you, Maddy. Of course, we’ll come.” Vonnie said. “We’ll see you at four?”

  “At four. We’ll be looking forward to it!”

  Grasping Vonnie’s hand, Carolyn grinned. “I have so much to tell you.” Bending closer, she whispered. “Have you heard that Priscilla Nelson is seeing Lem Turner?”

  “No!” Vonnie gasped. “Since when?”

  “Since last week.”

  “I thought Lem was seeing Nola Richards.”

  “So did I, but apparently he isn’t any longer. I’ll tell you everything at tea this afternoon.”

  “I’ll be there,” Vonnie promised.

  Back home, they ate a quiet dinner of roast chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans. Afterward, Cammy wandered into the parlor while Vonnie washed the dishes. She found her mother looking through the picture album, and crying.

  “Oh, come see, Vonnie. Look here.”

  “Momma,” Vonnie chided. “Why don’t we put the album away? You should rest before we go to the Hendersons’.”

  “In a while,” she promised. “Come, sit with me. There’s something I want you to see.”

  “I’ve seen the pictures a hundred times, Momma.”

  “Please.” Cammy patted the seat beside her. “Share a moment with me.”

  Sighing, Vonnie sat down beside her mother and glanced at the photo she indicated. It was of Teague, dressed in a Confederate uniform. Her father looked so young. He had been quite dashing—quite attractive until the day he’d died. How she missed his calm, insightful presence.

  “Doesn’t your father look handsome in his uniform? See how wonderful he looks? Why, he’s barely aged at all, don’t you agree? I must remember to tell him so—though it will surely embarrass him.”

  Vonnie’s heart fell. In spite of all her recent expectations, her mother was living more and more in the past. She had begun to talk as if Teague were away on a trip and would walk through the door at any moment.

  “Why, I told your father the other day that when I look at him in his uniform, I fall in love with him all over again.”

  “You mean you talk to Daddy…in spirit, don’t you, Momma?”

  “Yes dear…in spirit,” Cammy answered vaguely.

  Turning the page, her fingers caressed the worn photographs taken when she and Teague were first married.

  “He knows that after I met him I never looked at another boy. He used to laugh at me, but it’s true! I fell in love with him at first sight. I was fourteen…. I’d never met a boy who could make my heart pound with giddiness the way Teague did.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. Her fingers touched the brown-tinted photo. “When will he be home, Vonnie? He’s been gone such a long time. Nearly as long as when he put on this uniform and marched away.”

  “Momma—” Vonnie started, and then stopped.

  She could tell Cammy a hundred times that Teague was never coming back, but her mind could not comprehend that the heartbeat of her life was gone, never to return. Sometimes she envied her mother’s fantasy. At least the strength of her hope sustained her.

  “Momma, you must rest before we visit the Hendersons.”

  Cammy looked up, anxious. “Oh, my. Leave again? What if Teague comes while we’re gone?”

  “He won’t,” Vonnie assured her.

  “You’ll leave a note for him, won’t you? In case he should? I wouldn’t want him to come home and not know where we are. He worries about us, you know. Why, when you were a baby he’d wake up nights stewing about you, wondering if you’d marry properly, if the man would treat you good.”

  Vonnie patted her mother’s hand. “Why don’t you go up and change back into your new dress with the white lace collar. You look so pretty in blue.”

  “Yes, I will. Thank you.”

  After Cammy went upstairs, Vonnie remained on the settee, holding the photo album.

  Oh, Daddy, what am I going to do? Momma’s so bad, and I don’t know what’s happening to the birds.

  Teague’s image stared up at her, cold, unseeing.

  By three, Vonnie and Cammy were in the buggy on their way to tea. A sharp wind rocked the carriage as it sped along.

  Judge Henderson’s three-story house sat at the end of a street shaded by beautiful, old oaks in the summer. The wide porches wrapped around three sides, and during the warm months one could sit there in the cool of the evening, smell the flowering shrubs and watch the sun paint the town muted shades of yellow and purple.

  Within the large rooms, the snowy white walls were a perfect backdrop for the dark, handmade furniture. The hardwood floors gleamed with polished care.

  Carolyn’s room took the whole front of the second floor. The lush living quarters had been the envy of her friends when, as girls, they’d lain awake in the big four-poster bed and giggled over what boys they were interested in, and who’d been kissed first.

  “Here we are,” Vonnie said, drawing the buggy up in front of the house. Judge Henderson sat on the porch, napping in a large, white wicker rocking chair, oblivious to the wind. The arriving buggy woke him.

  “Afternoon, ladies,” he boomed, getting to his feet to greet them.

  “Afternoon, Judge,” Vonnie called. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

  “That i
t is,” he agreed, ushering them into the house.

  “There you are!” Maddy exclaimed from the stairway when they entered the house. Latching onto Cammy’s arm, Maddy squeezed it affectionately. “I’m so glad you’ve come. Come into the parlor where we can be comfortable. Tea will be served later.”

  The judge ushered Vonnie into the parlor where a fire burned brightly in the fireplace. Cammy hadn’t said a single word on the trip over, and now she was looking around as if she didn’t recognize where they were, although they had been the Hendersons’ guests a hundred times.

  “Can you believe Thanksgiving will be upon us next week?”

  “It is hard to comprehend.” The first Thanksgiving without Daddy.

  “Vonnie, your dress is exquisite!” Carolyn cried upon entering the room.

  It got to be a tiny bit embarrassing that each time Carolyn saw Vonnie in a new dress she marveled aloud at her friend’s sewing ability, but Vonnie appreciated the praise. She sorely needed a lift to her spirits.

  Carolyn kissed her. “Honestly, Vonnie, you amaze me. I can hardly believe that the shy young girl I shared a primer with is now so incredibly talented and dreams up marvelous designs for dresses straight out of her head.”

  Vonnie smiled her appreciation for the compliment and sat next to Cammy by the fire.

  The group made small talk for a few minutes, about the weather, a new mercantile being established in town and how it might affect Garrett Beasley’s business. Cammy said little, looking occasionally to Vonnie for assurance. It hurt to see her mother so vulnerable, so uncertain.

  Vonnie found herself avoiding the judge’s eyes all afternoon. His knowledge of her earlier marriage made her uneasy, although he had closely guarded her secret for years. He spoke fondly about the upcoming holiday festivities, and how much he looked forward to the season.

  Carolyn chatted incessantly about upcoming parties and Christmas soirees.

  The conversation touched briefly on the recent trouble with the ostriches. It was commonly agreed that the wire incidents were unfortunate, a nuisance that must be avoided. The injured birds were healing properly.

  The chime on the front door interrupted the conversation.