that lace you wanted?”
“I did. And the buttons. Mr. Beasley’s ordering more Duchesse for me. Should be here in plenty of time to finish the Wilson dress.”
“Duchesse, huh? I suppose that’s something all womanified and frilly?”
“Something like that.” She grinned. Womanified. “How are the birds?”
“Looking good, ladies. Real good.”
Cammy slid a pan of biscuits from the oven. “Harold Jenson stopped by this afternoon. Said there was a man in Phoenix interested in buying a pair.”
“He wants adults?”
“Harold thought he did—and Lewis Tanner stopped by again. He wants that fifty acres, Teague. He’s offering to pay top price for it.”
Teague grunted. “I’ll bet he does.”
“Honestly, you ought to consider his offer. We don’t need the land.”
“We sure don’t need Lewis’s dirty money. The Good Book says we’re to avoid the appearance of evil, that includes taking money earned in ways God wouldn’t approve. Besides, you know he hates the birds. He’d like nothing better than to see us sell out to someone who’ll run cattle.”
“You’ll do what you want, but I think the offer’s worth considering.”
Teague switched the subject. “That’s the third person this month wanting birds. If I keep selling at this rate I won’t have enough roosters for my own flock.” He rubbed a bar of soap to a high lather and scrubbed his elbows.
“Daddy, I saw Franz when I was in town.”
Teague kept scrubbing. “Did you?”
“He sends his best. He and Audrey are coming for supper Wednesday night.”
Teague rinsed his arms. “Well, your momma will enjoy the company. Hand me a towel there, will you, Puddin’?”
Vonnie stepped to the hutch to get a hand cloth. “Franz said to tell you to put enough sugar in the cobbler this time, Mom.”
“You tell Franz Schuyler that I’m baking the cobbler, not him.”
Handing the towel to her father, Vonnie grinned. “You tell him yourself.”
“Don’t think that I won’t.”
Drying off, Teague met her gaze. “Heard you danced with Adam the other night.”
Vonnie winced. “Mother.”
“Oh, don’t get all flustered. I remarked to your daddy that it was a shame there was such bad blood between him and P.K. Adam’s a fine man. Not only handsome, but responsible and levelheaded. A woman could do worse.”
Teague tweaked Vonnie under the chin as he moved to the table. “You stay away from the Baldwins. If I catch you anywhere near one of P.K.’s boys, I’ll tan your hide.”
The teasing tone was gone. “I mean it, Vonnie. P.K. Baldwin may go to church and believe in the Almighty, but he’s not my idea of a Christian. I don’t want my girl taking up with a nonbeliever—”
Vonnie interrupted. “Adam believes!”
“Nevertheless, you’re not to go around him. Besides, he’s about to be married.”
Vonnie busied herself with cups and saucers. No use trying to convince him that Adam was a Christian. Teague Taylor held to strict beliefs. He wasn’t a man who took his faith lightly. “You don’t have to remind me that he’s marrying Beth,” she couldn’t help adding.
“That’s Leighton Baylor’s problem, not mine.” He glanced at his wife. “What smells so good?”
“Ham…rhubarb pie,” Cammy announced.
“Rhubarb? You little sweetheart!” He pecked her on the cheek as he walked by. “If we weren’t already married, I’d marry you again.” He eyed the heaping plate of meat. “I could eat a horse.”
“Sit down, I’m taking up the gravy right now. Vonnie, honey, hand me a—” Cammy suddenly paused, frowning. “Teague? What’s wrong?”
Teague’s face had suddenly turned white as a sheet, his mouth tight with pain.
“Daddy?” Vonnie looked up as she was about to place a fork on the table.
Shaking his head as if he didn’t understand himself, his left hand drifted to his chest, his fingers curling into his shirt. A puzzled look came into his eyes, then surprise.
“Teague?”
“Daddy?” Vonnie reached out to steady him as anguish marked her father’s face. His gaze met hers, his eyes suddenly full of love. A cold wave of panic swept her.
His mouth opened, but no words came out. Then his legs buckled, and he slumped to the floor, both hands against his chest.
Screaming, Cammy dropped the platter of meat. Ham scattered across the floor, mingling with the shattered china.
“God help us! Teague!” Sinking to her knees, Cammy cradled her husband’s lifeless form in her arms. “No, no, no,” she whispered over and over. “You can’t do this—you can’t do this—you can’t leave me—don’t leave me, Teague—”
Kneeling beside her father, Vonnie reached for his hand, hoping to find a pulse. There was none.
In the blink of an eye, Teague Taylor had left this earth.
Chapter Five
Mourners began arriving for the funeral mid-morning. Buggies filled the yard of the Flying Feather Ranch; the kitchen table groaned beneath the weight of food brought by thoughtful friends and concerned neighbors. Cammy had withdrawn into herself. Vonnie was concerned about her mother.
Drying her eyes, she watched the guests’ arrival from the parlor front window. She’d retreated here to escape the soft words of sympathy that were beginning to grate on her nerves. Everyone was well-meaning, but nothing could soften the pain of the loss that cut so deeply through her. Cammy hadn’t come out of her room yet today. Vonnie was even more worried about how she was going to get her through the funeral. Her mother and father had been so close.
“Vonnie?”
She turned from the window. “Yes, Mrs. Lincoln.”
“The preacher’s here. Dear, Cammy hasn’t come down yet. Should someone go see about her?”
Moving from the window, Vonnie dabbed at her moist eyes with a handkerchief. “I’ll go. Tell Pastor Higgins I’ll be with him in a few minutes. Has everyone had coffee?”
“Everyone’s fine. You see to your mother. Is she doing all right?”
“Not so well, Mrs. Lincoln. She and Daddy were—”
