Lori Copeland

Yellow Rose Bride


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Adam, in dark gray trousers, frock coat and burgundy vest, was the best-looking man—not just in Potter County, but the world. But then she was partial to this particular Baldwin. Painfully so.

      She picked up a silver tray of bizcotela and brightly offered it around. “Cookies, anyone?”

      “I’ve heard he’s quite the gentleman,” Carolyn said as she thoughtfully selected a sweet. “Beth said he hung wash for her when she was feeling poorly last week.”

      “He didn’t!”

      “He did! Beth said so herself.” Carolyn bent closer. “But she made me promise absolute secrecy, so don’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

      Three heads bobbed. Three pair of covetous eyes returned to Adam’s sculpted features. He was deep in conversation with the governor.

      “I tell you, son,” the governor blustered, “the railroad coming in is the best thing that’s ever happened to us!”

      “Oh,” Hildy murmured. “He sees us.” She flashed a grin. “Personally? I’d take any one of the Baldwin brothers.”

      Carolyn giggled. “To where, darlin’?”

      “Who cares?” Mora and Carolyn parroted in unison. Vonnie shook her head.

      The four men bore a striking resemblance; it was impossible to say who was the most attractive. They had dark brown, wavy hair, the irresistible Baldwin sky-blue eyes, and skin tanned to nut brown by the hot Texas sun.

      Adam, Andrew, Joey, Pat. The brothers were the crème de la crème of Potter County, easily at home in buckskin or expensive Boston tweed.

      “Why, Carolyn, what would James say if he heard you drooling over the Baldwin brothers?” Hildy chided.

      Carolyn’s cheeks pinked and she daintily lifted her cup to her mouth. “James and I are only friends.”

      “Of course, you are.” Vonnie finally entered the good-natured conversation, encouraged by the change in subject.

      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