Yellow Rose Bride. Lori Copeland

      “It’ll be all right. I…I love you. Everything will work out. P.K. and Teague will be mad—”

      “Mad? Adam, mad? They’ll be furious.”

      She bit her lower lip so hard he thought she’d bite it clean through. He tried to console her but she resisted.

      “We’re married. There’s nothing they can do.”

      “Adam, I’m scared. Daddy will have the marriage annulled.”

      “I won’t let him.” He tried to take her into his arms, but she pushed him away. She suddenly seemed distant, not at all like the sweet angel he’d married.

      “No, Adam. We’ve made a terrible mistake.”

      “Calm down.” Panic rose in his throat. She stood against the door, trembling, her eyes shining with tears.

      “They can never know,” she said.

      Her eyes had met his and he would have done anything to erase the fear and remorse he saw. “Stop acting like this. You’re making me crazy.”

      “They can never know,” she repeated. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”

      The meaning of her words had gradually sunk in. Adam frowned. “Pretend we didn’t get married?”

      “It’s the only answer. No one has to know, Adam, except us. Daddy can’t know—he’d be so disappointed in me.”

      “We love each other.”

      “We’re too young to love each other,” she said. “Daddy will have your hide. I’m too young to get married. So are you.”

      Disbelief had settled over Adam. “You’re more worried about what your father will think than how I feel?”

      She shook her head wildly. “I’m worried about you, Adam. I mean it—Daddy will be wild with rage.”

      “I agree he doesn’t like the Baldwins…”

      “He hates the Baldwins—your father hates the Taylors.”

      “We both knew that when we got married.” His voice had started to rise. What was she doing? Fear coursed through him. “Why didn’t that bother you before we got married?”

      She had blinked up at him, tears soaking her lashes. Burying her face in her hands, she’d cried harder.

      He glared at her. “Is that your answer? To bawl?”

      “I can’t face Daddy and tell him I married you. I can’t.”

      Adam heaved a sigh of pure frustration. “You’re such a daddy’s girl you’d forfeit my love for his pride?”

      Nodding, she sobbed harder.

      Something had snapped inside of him. Furious that she would leave him now—now when they had risked everything to be together. He refused to look at her.

      “You can stop crying. I’m taking you home.” He didn’t try to keep the contempt from his voice.

      “I’m…so…sorry.”

      Turning on his heel, he had left the room. Sorry? She wouldn’t have a chance to humiliate a Baldwin a second time.

      Shortly after that, P.K. was thrown from his horse during roundup and trampled. His leg was badly injured, and he required complete bed rest. It had been weeks before he was able to ride again. During that time, Adam had been forced to take charge. In a sense it had been a good thing. Long hours and hard work had kept his mind off Vonnie.

      From that time on, Vonnie went out of her way to avoid him. Even in church, she sat as far away from him as she could and disappeared as soon as the last amen was uttered. He finally stopped going to services, because seeing her only fueled his anger.

      Before he knew it, nearly two years had passed. Vonnie had perfected her talent for sewing and soon was the most sought after seamstress for her remarkable gowns.

      One hot night, he found himself alone with her at a church function. By then there was nothing to say about the past, about the one night that was etched permanently into their memory. Like the Baldwins and Taylors, they pointedly ignored each other.

      It was as if the marriage had never taken place.

      Adam leaned his head back against the chair, recalling the brief ceremony. He’d managed to get her home without being seen and the next morning he had talked to Judge Clive Henderson, who had given him a tongue-lashing, the memory of which still stung. After he’d calmed down, Clive had agreed to arrange for the annulment and promised to take the secret to his grave. So far he had kept his promise.

      The room was quiet except for the buzzing of a blue-bottle fly. Adam focused on the question he had tried hard to ignore. Why did he have such a difficult time forgetting that firelight wedding ceremony and the pride and love he’d felt in his bride? He had another wedding in his future. This one would take place in a church where there would be guests and flowers and a proper preacher. Beth would make a beautiful bride, and later, she would keep a fine home, make a loving mother and a caring wife. So why was he still thinking about the one woman he couldn’t forget?

      Chapter Four

      “Another one?”

      “Another one,” Vonnie said, watching Garrett Beasley ring up five spools of white satin thread. “And I’m going to need sixteen more yards of Duchesse lace, Mr. Beasley.”

      “I’ll order it right away.” His pot-bellied clerk’s eyes twinkled. “Getting it here, now that’s another thing.”

      “Do you think—”

      “I’ll send the order out first thing tomorrow morning. You know I will.”

      Vonnie smiled. Mr. Beasley had a real talent for making customers feel special.

      “There you go, little lady,” he said, adding the thread to her purchases. “Heard you’re making the Wilson gown?”

      “Yes, when it’s finished I’ll bring it by and let you see it.”

      Rumors about the gown had been in all the newspapers. Hammond Wilson, a prominent Phoenix millionaire, doted on his eldest daughter, Emily, and had commissioned Vonnie to make the point de Flandre gown for a handsome sum. The pure white lace with graceful, rhythmic patterns of leaves, flowers and scrolls was widely regarded as the most beautiful of the pillow laces. The accompanying Flemish Duchesse bridal veil was certain to become a Wilson heirloom treasure.

      “Business must be booming,” he said. “Had a man stop by earlier in the week asking about you. Seems they’ve heard about your bridal gowns way up there in New York.”

      “Business is good.” Almost too good, she added to herself, thinking about the bolts of cream satin stacked on her cutting table.

      “Sounds like the Bennett wedding is going to be quite a shindig.” He transferred a bolt of tulle to the cutting table. “Twenty more yards, you say?”

      “Mmm, better make it twenty-five, just to be sure.”

      “Twenty-five it is.”

      While he measured and cut the silk net, Vonnie browsed. Outside, the sun was beaching the horizon. Most of the stores were closing, while the bars and bawdy houses were just starting their business day.

      Beasley’s was one of the first delicatessens in the town. The idea that you could buy ready-to-eat products and dry goods at the same time was a real hit with the customers.

      Closing her eyes, she sniffed the tantalizing mix of cured hams, loose spices and fresh pies. Freshly ground coffee and hot cinnamon buns.

      The countertops brimmed with a colorful array of foods. Glass cases full of cakes, pickles in trays, and a big tub of sweet creamery butter added character to Beasley’s Grocery.