Free Yellow Rose Bride by Lori Copeland Page B

that had plagued her for weeks. In fact, as she and Audrey talked, Cammy seemed to almost be her old self.
    The two women conversed in low tones, and Vonnie settled herself in a chair nearby. Franz escaped to the kitchen, returning shortly with a tray holding a teapot and four china cups.
    â€œWould you pour?” he asked Vonnie.
    â€œOf course.”
    She performed the small ritual, automatically adding two teaspoons of sugar to her mother’s cup.
    â€œJust look at our little Vonnie,” Audrey said, accepting Franz’s help to sit up straighter so she could sip her tea. He fussed over her, fluffing her pillow, making sure she was comfortable. “Thank you, dear. I remember so well the day they brought you home.”
    Cammy and Audrey were like sisters. They had spent part of nearly every day together when they were first married.
    Though Teague and Franz had served in the war together, it was the women who were close and shared every part of their lives.
    â€œYou were the sweetest young’ un. A thatch of black hair that never changed. A little button of a nose.” Audrey smiled gently. “And a little rosebud of a mouth. And you never cried. Not really. Just a beautiful child in all ways.” Her eyes brimmed with emotion for the child that she loved like her own.
    Sipping her tea, she then lay back against her pillows closing her eyes.
    â€œFranz and I wanted children. A whole houseful. But, it wasn’t to be.”
    Vonnie made an appropriate remark. It seemed Audrey always talked about her disappointment of not having children. It appeared to weigh on her mind heavily these days.
    â€œWell, I guess one should be careful what they promise.” She smiled. “When Franz was off to war, so many months passed without knowing whether he was alive or injured. I got down on my hands and knees and prayed every night that he’d be spared. I promised, ‘God, if You’ll just bring Franz home safe, then I’ll never ask another thing of You.’”
    â€œAnd you never did,” Franz said, his tone tender. “You’ve never asked for anything.”
    Vonnie could hear the sadness in his voice and knew that if he could give Audrey anything it would be her health, so they could have many more happy years together.
    â€œBut,” Franz added, a twinkle returning to his eyes, “you did want your piano back.”
    â€œFranz,” Audrey scolded. “I did not—it was such a frivolous thing.”
    Although Vonnie had heard the story numerous times, she played along. “A piano?” she asked.
    â€œA Steinway,” Franz said. “Her father bought it for her. Oh, how she loved to play. But we lost everything after the war, and we had to sell the instrument in order to make ends meet.” He smiled warmly at his wife, adoration glowing in his eyes. “She did love that piano.”
    â€œIt was nothing, really. Other people sacrificed more,” Audrey insisted. “So many lost families, husbands, sons. What’s a piano compared to someone’s life? I never missed it. Ever.”
    â€œAudrey Schuyler! You’re such a fibber!” Franz teased. “I’ve seen that look in your eye when that piano’s mentioned. It meant a great deal to you.”
    â€œGo on now,” Audrey said, swatting at her husband as he caught her hand and held it. They held hands for a moment like young lovers.
    A knot formed in Vonnie’s throat. Oh, to have a love like that. The kind of love that weathers the hard times and flourishes in the good times. The kind that only grows sweeter as the years pass.
    â€œMy wife didn’t just play the piano,” Franz said. “She mastered it. She attended the Sorbonne, you know, and would have played concerts had I not begged her to marry me.”
    â€œBegged?” Audrey scoffed. “More like I chased him down shamelessly and pleaded with him to marry me!”
    Franz