Yellow Rose Bride by Lori Copeland Page A

us. We need to have faith. I know it’s hard, but faith is only a word if we don’t practice it.”
    Cammy studied the horizon, a glint of moisture in her eyes. “I know. But it’s easier to speak of faith when all is well.”
    Gathering twilight bathed the countryside as carriage wheels sang along the road. Vonnie slapped the reins,urging the horses to a faster pace. “It’s in times of trouble you utilize that faith.”
    â€œI know Audrey’s not here for long,” Cammy admitted. “It’s so sad to think of Franz and what her passing will do to him. He would do anything for her.”
    â€œI know, Momma.” Vonnie didn’t want to think about it, either. Franz and Audrey were so much a part of each other, as Teague and Cammy had been.
    â€œPeople are kind. They want to say something to help. They say, ‘Oh, I know how you feel,’ but in fact, they haven’t the slightest idea how it feels—the pain—” Her hand came up to touch her heart. “The pain never goes away.” Biting her lip, she struggled for composure. “When Audrey’s gone, Franz will be alone, but I have you.”
    She patted Vonnie’s knee and then left her hand there, as if to reassure herself that her daughter was indeed beside her.
    They were nearly home before she spoke again.
    â€œYou know, after your father came home from the war, he never wanted to talk about it. Always said it was too painful.”
    â€œI know.” That had puzzled Vonnie, since most men who’d been in the war were prone to talk about their exploits, or at least brag that they were at Bull Run, or had taken part in some other important battle.
    â€œDaddy didn’t talk about it at all, even to you?”
    â€œHe told enough for me to understand why he hated it so. He wanted to put it out of his mind. I remember Franz mentioned something in passing one day, andTeague was rather curt in telling him never to speak of the war in his presence. I thought he was unnecessarily sharp with Franz, but he said it was a time he wanted to forget.”
    â€œWhat was Daddy like, then?”
    A smile curved Cammy’s lips. “Oh, he was a rascal when he was young, that father of yours. Wherever there was a party, he got there early and stayed late.”
    She smiled and paused. Then her face sobered. “But when he came back from the war, he was a different man. The death, the blood, the loss—I’ve heard others talk about it. It’s not something a man wants to recall.
    â€œBut when he finally began to come around, he was more like the old Teague. He got those ostriches and seemed to like what they gave him, as if life would get better somehow. He started back to church. His faith just grew stronger day by day. It was amazing to see the miracle of God’s love working in that man. Yet so changed. Slower to laugh, never touched a drop of liquor after that. After a while he started working again, and began building the farm.” Her eyes grew distant. “Other than the terrible rift between him and P.K…. I always hated that. I believe that deep in his heart, Teague hated it, too. There was a time when he and P.K. were close as brothers.” She sighed. “We had a good life together.”
    Vonnie let Cammy out at the front door of the house, then drove the buggy to the barn, where she handed the team to Roel.
    â€œBe sure and give them some extra oats,” she called.
    The aging ranch hand tipped the brim of his hat politely. “Sí. Buenas noches.”
    â€œGood night.”
    Cammy had already disappeared to her room when Vonnie entered the kitchen. She decided not to push the issue. That her mother had ventured out for an afternoon visit was enough for today.
    Climbing the stairs to her attic workroom, Vonnie realized that she was too tired to sew, but the Wilson dress still had a few final touches to be added.
    Flipping on the