Yellow Rose Bride. Lori Copeland

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ illness. She still clung to the belief that a miracle would occur and Audrey would be spared.

      “But,” Franz sighed, his smile returning, though it was a bit dim. “Any day you wake up is a good day, isn’t it?” He touched the packages she held. “Guess you’re making another beautiful wedding dress?”

      “Yes. Janie Bennett’s. She’s getting married next month.”

      “Ah, yes.” Franz nodded. “I saw the young lovers at the party the other night. Edward appears smitten to the gills.”

      “He is. Hopelessly so.”

      Setting his stool and stepping up, he touched the wand to the lamp above her head and smiled wistfully. “Ah, to be that young again.”

      Yes. To be young and foolish again.

      “Franz,” she said, “if Audrey feels up to it, why don’t you come for supper Wednesday night? Mother would love it. She’s been wanting to bake a blackberry cobbler, and what’s a blackberry cobbler without you around to eat it?”

      Franz chuckled. “Well, I don’t know what would stop us. A man can hardly pass up an offer like that. I’ll tell Audrey. She’ll feel better just thinking about it.”

      “Wonderful. We’ll expect you Wednesday.”

      “Wednesday, we’ll look forward to it.”

      She accompanied him as he carefully made his way down the sidewalk. His wife’s lingering illness had taken its toll on him. Where he had once stood straight and proud, he now was slightly stooped and worn. Her heart ached. What would Franz do without Audrey? They were so close, married young, and had no children. They had no one but each other.

      “Oh, and Vonnie?” Franz called over his shoulder.

      “Yes?”

      “Tell Cammy to put enough sugar in the cobbler this time.” He flashed a grin over his shoulder that reminded Vonnie of a younger, happier man. “Last one was right-down sour.”

      Shaking her head at his good-natured teasing, she waved and laid her packages on the seat of her waiting buggy. She had to hurry. Cammy would be fussing, and Teague would be upset if she wasn’t home before dark.

      The light breeze faded quickly. A stillness lay over the countryside by the time she got home.

      She glanced toward the ostrich pens as she left her buggy for the stable hand, Roel, to unhitch.

      “Mother?” Vonnie called out, dumping her packages on the mahogany deacon’s bench in the foyer.

      The Taylor house was a large, two-story cedar, built by Vonnie’s grandfather, Reginald Edimious Taylor, and his sons. The Italianate Victorian house, with its slightly pitched roof, square towers and round-arched windows, represented more than a home: it was a tribute to the Taylor men’s ingenuity and quality craftsmanship, which had earned them a living in those days.

      “In the kitchen!”

      The click of nails on hardwood floors signaled that Suki, the family mutt, was approaching to extend her usual greeting. Leaping high in the air, she demanded Vonnie’s attention.

      “Down, Suki…yes, I’m happy to see you, too.” She rubbed the dog’s ears, then gave her an affectionate pat. “Come on. Let’s go find Mother.”

      The aroma of frying meat filled the air, and Vonnie followed it to the kitchen at the back of the house. The spacious cooking and eating area was her favorite room in the house. Fourteen windows kept the room light and cheery all year round, and she never tired of the panoramic view. Cammy Taylor was at the stove, dishing up thick slices of ham.

      Cammy, a small, frail-looking woman with the figure of a young girl, looked up. Her laugh was a tinkle, her eyes bright as a bird’s, and she was never certain of anything, she’d tell anyone—except that she’d loved Teague Taylor since she was a girl of fourteen.

      “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it home before dark.”

      “You know Brigette. She can smell the barn a mile away. She was high-stepping by the time we reached the lane. Daddy not in yet?”

      “No, I’ve called him twice, but he’s still out at the pens.”

      Vonnie hung her bonnet on a peg and went to the hutch to get the everyday china. “Mmm, smells good in here.”

      “Daddy wanted ham tonight—and rhubarb pie.”

      “I saw Franz earlier.” Vonnie gathered silverware to set the table.

      “You did? Did he say how Audrey is today?”

      “Not good, I’m afraid.”

      “Well, after supper I’ll have your daddy carry a big piece of pie over to her. She loves rhubarb. Always did, even as a child.”

      Folding napkins, Vonnie placed one beside each plate.

      “I invited them for supper Wednesday night.”

      “Wonderful. The fresh air will do Audrey good. She stays closed up in that house too much.” Dumping collard greens into a bowl, Cammy carried them to the table. “That daddy of yours—Vonnie, go tell him his supper’s getting cold.”

      The words had no sooner left her mouth when the back door opened, and Teague Taylor came in, stomping his feet. Her daddy had always reminded Vonnie of P.K. Baldwin. They were from the same hardy stock: whipcord thin, skin leatherlike from the sun, hair a steel-gray, eyes that squinted permanently into the future.

      “Well, well,” he said, glancing at Cammy, then at Vonnie. “If it isn’t the two prettiest little gals in Potter County.”

      “Oh, go on with you,” Cammy said, waving a long fork in his direction.

      Vonnie was amazed that after thirty-five years, Teague Taylor could still make her mother blush. She smiled, enjoying her parents’ spirited antics. Her mother and dad had an enviable relationship, an affectionate and teasing kind of love that made her long for a marriage like theirs. They’d adopted her young, an infant, but she’d never thought of her birth mother. Cammy was her only mother.

      Cammy carried a bowl of potatoes to the table, brushing past Teague on the way and bumping him pointedly with her hip.

      With a sweep of his arms, Teague scooped his wife off her feet and held her to his chest in a bone-crushing hug. Protesting laughingly, she swatted at him, demanding to be put down.

      Teague and Cammy had that rare relationship, able to weather any crisis that came their way. Theirs was a marriage of respect and mutual trust. A marriage based on love for each other and love of God. Teague and Cammy lived their belief, except for Teague’s unrelenting hatred for P.K. Baldwin. If Vonnie could find a man who would make her half as happy as Teague made Cammy, she’d marry him on the spot.

      But then, that’s exactly what she had done, wasn’t it?

      Kissing her soundly, Teague set Cammy back on her feet, then hugged Vonnie.

      “How СКАЧАТЬ