Yellow Rose Bride Page 15

  “Late in the day, we came upon a family. Dear Lord, it was hot. So hot you could fry an egg on a rock.

  “The family was Irish, a man, his wife, two sons and a small daughter.” His tone was lifeless now. “I don’t know how it happened—none of us knew how it happened. One minute we were all looking at each other, then El Johnson pulled his pistol and then the farmer pulled a gun and fired.”

  P.K.’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he recalled the awful moment. “We could smell their sweat, their blood, death….”

  Adam held back immediate questions that sprang to his mind for fear of breaking his father’s concentration on the long-past events that had haunted him and driven an irreversible wedge between Teague Taylor and P.K. Baldwin.

  “We got shovels and buried them. The sight of that little girl—” P.K. turned away, pain searing his features.

  Drawing a deep breath, he whispered, “Johnson and Teague scavenged the wagon and found a black velvet pouch containing jewels.”

  The silence stretched. Finally, Adam prompted him again.

  “Jewels?”

  “Jewelry. Heirlooms…things the family wanted to protect from both the North and South. Apparently they’d hoped to keep the cache safe until the war was over. Of course, they didn’t count on running into us.” He drew another deep breath, bitterness seeping through his voice. “Johnson pitched the bag to Teague.”

  “Teague took the jewelry?”

  “Oh, he argued, but he rode off with the pouch! Later he tried to tell me he threw the jewels away, all of them. Claimed any profit we got from them would have been blood money, which might be right, but that family was dead. There wasn’t anything we could do to change what happened. Any one of us could have put the money to good use.”

  “Teague threw the jewels away?” Adam repeated, trying to make sense of P.K.’s accusations. “You know this for certain?”

  “Said he did,” P.K. snapped. “Never saw him do it, never believed he did.”

  “If he didn’t want the money, why would he lie to you and say that he had thrown them away?”

  P.K. shook his head. “Why did Teague do anything? He sure fooled me. I thought he was a godly man.”

  “I believe that he was.”

  “A godly man wouldn’t do what he did.”

  “Dispose of jewels that were ill-gotten?”

  “Take the jewels in the first place.”

  “Maybe he didn’t have a choice.”

  “Every man has a choice. I saw that pouch in Teague’s hand when we rode off.”

  “And thirty-three years passed and you, who claim to be a pious man, didn’t go to Teague, a fellow brother and godly man, and ask him why he took the jewels. You just let the hate fester and grow into a wound that never healed.”

  “The ride between his farm and mine is the same distance.”

  “Maybe he didn’t feel he had anything to explain. Maybe he resented the fact that a friend would think that he did.”

  P.K. grunted. “You might as well know I did go once, shortly after the incident, accused him of keeping the jewels for himself. He denied it. Got so mad he threatened to shoot me. Ordered me off his property and told me never to set foot on his land again and I didn’t.

  “Folks have believed all along he got those birds honest. Never believed that cock-and-bull story about ‘someone in a traveling show paying off a bad debt.’ I think he took those jewels, sold them and bought those birds to fatten his pockets. That’s what I think.

  “Doesn’t matter now,” P.K. said impatiently. “Vonnie’s Teague’s daughter through and through. By the way, another one of those birds got loose this afternoon, chased a steer halfway to town.”

  Adam shook his head.

  “Bull’s fine. The bird lost most of its feathers, though.” P.K. chortled. “Had the boys lock him up in the barn. You take him back tomorrow and tell that Taylor woman she’s got to sell those birds before I shoot every last one of them. You hear?”

  “You wouldn’t shoot those birds and you know it.” P.K. might bluster, but he was a good man. “Besides, you just told me to stay away from her.”

  “This is a business. Do as I say.”

  When P.K. left the room, Adam sank back into the chair. Something didn’t ring true with P.K.’s story, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He could ask Vonnie, but he’d swear she knew nothing about what had happened between the two once-best friends. If she’d known, she’d have told him the reason behind the bitter feud.

  He stared out the window, rubbing his temple. No, something was wrong with the story. Even if his father’s version was right, he could see P.K. was wrong. Teague was an honorable man. Always had been. He was right about the jewels being blood money. None of the men involved in the tragedy could claim the bounty. Nevertheless, the money would have most likely warded off the financial crunch P.K. was now facing. That “blood money” could have helped save Cabeza del Lobo.

  He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his chin. Teague had had the reputation in the community of being an honest man in his dealings. Granted, in view of his strong personality he had been either well liked or despised. There was no middle of the road when it came to Teague Taylor. But to Adam’s knowledge, no one had ever accused him of being dishonest, except his once-best friend.

  Swiveling around in the chair, he stood abruptly and left the library.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sliding the barn door open, Adam faced the ostrich. It was late, but by gum, he was taking the bird back to Vonnie tonight. No six-foot pile of feathers on stilts was going to take up barn space at Cabeza del Lobo.

  Why not admit it’s her you want to see, Baldwin? You don’t care about the ostrich.

  I’m returning the ostrich. Nothing more. Taking it back, dumping it in a pen and getting out of there. You want to ask her advice about Beth. Face it.

  How did he break the engagement in a compassionate way? Vonnie would know.

  The bird ceased its anxious pacing. Turning, he blinked down at Adam with wise eyes.

  After rejecting several options, Adam decided to try looping a rope around the bird’s neck to control him. He hoped this one was more cooperative than the others they had returned a few days earlier. Without Pat and Joey to help, he knew it wasn’t going to be easy to get the bird back to the Taylor ranch alone, and Andrew was in no mood to help. The snow wasn’t going to help any.

  “All right, boy, you and I are going for a little walk. You don’t give me any trouble, and I won’t give you any.”

  Looping a lariat, he began swinging it loosely above his head. He had the bird’s attention.

  The ostrich was curious enough about the rope that he held his head fully erect.

  With a leisurely swing, the loop fell easily over the head and settled at the shoulders.

  Taking a half hitch around a post, Adam tethered the bird. Saddling his horse, he began the five-mile journey to the Flying Feather.

  It was much later when Adam got there. Adam thought that if he owned the bird it would have been dead on arrival.

  As he corralled the ostrich into the courtyard, he caught a shadow from the corner of his eye. He was certain a form darted out of the cellar and disappeared around the corner of the house.

  Sitting up straight in the saddle, he squinted, trying to locate the hazy figure. The moon slid behind a cloud, obscuring his vision. By now there was nothing to see.

  Frowning, he glanced toward the house, where a light burned in Vonnie’s attic workroom. If she was awake and working, he might as well tell her that the bird was back.

  Nudging the ostrich to the hitching post, he secured it there, alongside his horse.

  He moved beneath the window, and picked up a handful of pebbles and tossed them at the glass. A moment later, Vonnie looked out.

  He motioned for her to open up.

  She shook her head and pointed at the sill. Stuck. He remembered Teague painting it shut. She appeared at
the back door a moment later “Adam, do you have any idea what time it is?”

  Removing his pocket watch, he held the dial up to the lighted snowscape. “Twelve forty-one.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  “Great day in the morning. Why are you creeping around at this time of night?”

  “I brought your bird home.”

  He was suddenly as nervous as a schoolboy. He remembered everything about her: her smell, her smile. Her. That was the problem. He remembered her and not Beth.

  Her brows lifted. “You have one of my birds?”

  Turning, he motioned to the ostrich tied to the hitching post.

  “Elmer?” She wilted with relief. “Thank goodness. We looked everywhere for him.”

  “Really?” His eyes locked with hers. “I suppose that was what you and Andrew were doing? Looking for Elmer?”

  The brows came up again. “Excuse me?”

  “You and Andrew. Earlier this evening, when you passed me on the road. Didn’t look like you were searching for any bird.”

  “Are you referring to the incident earlier this evening when Andrew, who is no more than a casual friend, and I passed you on your way back from seeing Beth?”

  “I’m engaged to Beth,” he said, as if that marked the difference.

  “Andrew is a grown man. When are you going to stop protecting him?”

  He ignored her question. “Andrew doesn’t have any business taking you for a buggy ride.”

  She leaned against the door frame, looking up at him. “A Taylor isn’t good enough for him, either?”

  “Now, don’t go twisting my words. That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He stared at her, frustrated. “Where do you want me to put the bird?”

  “I’ll take him. I was coming out to ride Elsie anyway.”

  He had already turned to walk away when her remark registered. Turning back, he looked at her, then at the bird.

  “You’re going to do what?”

  “I’m going to ride Elsie. Daddy rode her all the time. It’s great fun.”

  He turned to look at the bird then glanced up at the falling snow. Then back to her.

  “Ride one of those things? You’re out of your mind.”

  Her chin lifted a notch. “They’re faster than horses, you know.”

  They were faster than bullets, from what he’d seen. And about as safe.

  Pulling on a worn coat and pair of gloves, she pushed the screen open. Stepping down off the porch, she clucked to Elmer, who was tied to the hitching post.

  “You’ve been naughty, Elmer. Genaro’s going to fix that latch in the morning. It’s obviously too easy for you to get open. Bad bird.”

  She led Elmer to his pen as Adam curiously followed behind.

  “In you go,” she said, opening the gate.

  Elmer went in without an argument.

  “How do you do that?” The bird had gone out of its way to aggravate him.

  “Some are very docile,” she said. “Daddy worked with them a lot. Elmer and Elsie are a pair that he’s had for quite some time. Carrie and Carl are another. He began riding those four a while ago.”

  She stepped inside the pen and shut the gate behind her, but didn’t slip the latch.

  Adam watched with half curiosity, half concern for her safety, while she walked among the birds, talking to this one, patting that one. Lanterns strategically hung from poles, illuminating the pens and blowing snow. He could distinguish the males by their black markings; the hens had silver-and-brown feathers.

  “Down, Elsie.” One of the females dropped to the ground, and before he could stop her, Vonnie mounted the bird.

  Struggling back to its feet, the bird and rider loomed high above him. Sitting far up on the back, clasping underneath the wings, Vonnie laughed, riding easily as the bird strutted around the pen.

  “Some men have been known to use the ostrich as a saddle horse,” she proclaimed.

  “Some men are nuts, too.”

  “Coward.”

  “I’m the only sane one here,” he muttered.

  “Want to try it?”

  “No, I don’t want to try it.”

  “Scared?”

  “Smart.”

  “I dare you to try it.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Double dare you. Triple dare you! Double, triple, quadruple dare you!”

  It was a familiar dare with them, beginning when they were in the third grade. Anything he did, she tried.

  And anything she did, he had to prove he could do better.

  “Come on, scaredy-cat. I’ve seen you ride broncs and bulls.”

  “You be careful.”

  “Elmer knows you now. Try it. He’ll get down for you. Mount him as you would a horse,” she said.

  “A horse, huh?” He studied the nine-foot, gangly creature. “Funny-looking horse,” he muttered.

  He hesitated, then his curiosity got the better of him. Sliding inside the gate, he made his way toward Elmer, who was standing near the bird Vonnie was riding.

  His eyes slid warily over the creature. “You riding that one?”

  “Uh-huh. Elsie’s my favorite. Down, Elmer,” she ordered, and the bird obliged by squatting.

  Adam awkwardly mounted, clutching Elmer’s neck when the bird lurched awkwardly to his feet.

  “Oh, boy.”

  Laughing, Vonnie led the way out of the pen. “Come on, chicken!”

  Adam held on, wondering if he had lost his mind. Riding one of the stupid things! He hoped his brothers never got wind of this! “Slow down, will you!”

  “Burk-burrrrk, burk-burrrrk, burk,” Vonnie clucked.

  “Funny, Vonnie, funny. Where are you taking me?”

  “Outside the pens.”

  “Forget that,” he said.

  “You’ll be fine. I’ll control Elsie and Elmer will follow his lady.”

  Vonnie let the gate latch behind them, then led the way across the barnyard. They made a strange sight, riding ostriches across the snowy hills. Soon they were loping toward an open field where she’d ridden before.

  “Take it easy,” Adam warned. The sheer height of the bird alone made a formidable perch.

  “Okay.” Grinning, she flanked the bird and set off. Elmer followed. In a few minutes the birds were running freely.

  “Slow down!” Adam shouted, his words lost in the wind. Once he got the feel of the bird, he relaxed and began to enjoy the experience.

  The birds flew over the ground, with both riders holding tightly beneath their wings. The wind rushed by, raising Adam’s spirits. Snow stung his eyes and nose.

  Elsie loped along at a jarring gait, passing Elmer, Elmer passing her, her passing him.

  Breaking into a head-on dash, the two birds raced across the open range at remarkable speeds.

  Vonnie’s laughter came to him as she looked over. His masterful ease in the saddle had resurfaced.

  Grinning at each other, they rode for over an hour, racing side by side over the open range.

  After they finally brought the birds back into the pen, Vonnie ordered them to squat. As they dismounted, she gave each an affectionate pat, then closed and carefully latched the gate.

  Adam leaned on the fence, watching her.

  “Well, what do you think about my birds now?”

  “I have to admit, they’re not what I expected.”

  Her wind-kissed features sobered. “They’re not what I expected, either. Daddy always took care of them. Momma and I had little personal contact with them, but now, I realize, like people, they each have their own strengths and weaknesses.”

  Smiling, she gazed up at him. He had never seen her looking prettier. The cold wind had blushed her cheeks a rosy red, and her hair had come loose, falling over her shoulders in wild disarray. He wanted to kiss her—kiss her and never stop. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive my desire.

  “I’m actually beginning to enjoy them, and I’ve become quite a
ttached to some of them. I guess that’s part of the reason I refuse to sell to Sheriff Tanner. That, and he’s such a worm. I’m not ready to let the birds go. Maybe I never will be.”

  They walked back to the house. Snow had accumulated in the farmyard, and a relaxing calm had settled over the ranch. The wind and the sound of two sets of footsteps moving in perfect rhythm.

  “It’s your decision,” Adam said. “I can’t say I’m overly fond of the birds. P.K. would like to see them go.”

  “He’s upset about them getting out, isn’t he?”

  “He doesn’t want the cattle spooked. You can see his objection. We have to protect the stock.”

  Sighing, Vonnie turned to face him. Snowflakes lay on her shoulders. “Adam, I am sorry about the inconvenience they’ve caused. I don’t know how they keep getting out. A lot of strange things have been happening lately.”

  “Do I have to tell you to be careful?” Should he tell her about what he thought he saw when he first rode up tonight? If he was mistaken, she would worry unnecessarily. “I mean it, Vonnie. Lock your doors and be alert.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m careful. Genaro’s on night watch. Roel takes day watch. And Franz is here during the day. Except for Elmer getting out this afternoon, nothing has happened for a few days. Maybe it’s all been a series of coincidences.”

  She was silhouetted against the house. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but it didn’t matter. He knew her face as well as his own.

  “And maybe not. Maybe someone is trying to force you out.”

  “I thought of that,” she admitted. “And the wire incident almost convinced me of it—yet, I can’t be sure.”

  “What happened with the wire?”

  “Someone has been cutting the fence, leaving sharpened ends sticking out, enough for the birds to cut themselves. They get hurt, they get infected and sick. We’ve been checking the fences morning and night, but the incidents continue. Someone knows our schedule—they know how to avoid us.”

  “You think someone is purposely sabotaging you?”

  “Has to be. It couldn’t happen by itself. I think it might be Lewis Tanner, but again I’m only speculating. No one has seen anything suspicious going on, nothing that can be traced to Tanner.”