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  Faith

  BRIDES OF THE RIO GRANDE

  Peggy McKenzie

  Copyright 2017 by Peggy McKenzie

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means , including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design-Dar Dixon @ Wicked Smart Designs

  Editor-Julia Tague

  About this book

  BOOK TWO

  BRIDES OF THE RIO GRANDE SERIES

  Despite the improbable odds of a half-breed orphan getting a fair trial after being accused of murdering the son of the mayor of Kansas City, frontier justice has given Faith No-Name a second chance at life. For the past two years, Faith’s trust—indeed, her very future—has been in the hands of a talented young attorney. She’s fallen in love with the handsome Irishman, but knows no respectable white man would consider marriage to a woman of mixed blood who’d grown up with three other orphans under the eye of a bawdy saloon keeper.

  Defending the dark-haired, doe-eyed young woman accused of murder has tested Liam O’Brien’s sense of justice in ways he never imagined. Every time he looks at her, he is reminded of the horrible Indian raid that left his parents dead and his sister kidnapped. He escaped, but only because he hid from the marauders like a coward. His heart is a dark tempest of rage, loathing and guilt that makes it impossible for him to view Faith as anything other than a savage heathen…except the more he learns about her, the more his prejudices are challenged.

  Remanded into the custody of Liam’s senior partner and assigned to work at their law office for one year as part of her sentence, Faith struggles to find her place in the bustling frontier town. It will take every ounce of courage she can muster to overcome a lifetime of abuse, but Faith soon discovers not everyone harbors resentment and bigotry. As Faith learns to stand tall and proud, only one burning question remains unanswered: Can Liam look past his hatred to see her for who she truly is?

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  If you enjoyed this book…

  More books in the series…

  Peggy McKenzie & Friends

  About the Author

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  This book is dedicated to anyone who has ever been made to feel less than or different or worthless. Do not listen to the sounds of these voices. They have no worth. You are one-of-a-kind, put on this earth to do great things. You have gifts unique to you so do not squander them. Make this world a better, kinder place to live.

  1

  Creede, Colorado

  July 1885

  “In the City of Creede, State of Colorado, for the City of Kansas City, State of Missouri, everyone, please rise.”

  Faith No-Name watched the federal marshal call everyone to order inside the schoolhouse, which had been designated as a makeshift courtroom. Those who could, made use of the students’ desks. Everyone else stood against the walls around the perimeter of the room.

  Her heartbeat pounded in her chest. This is it. This is the moment that will change my life forever. Or end it.

  The judge took his seat behind the schoolteacher’s desk and read over the papers in front of him. Faith raked her damp palms among the folds of the brand new dress she had bought for her sentencing. A thick strand of her blue-black hair slipped from her coiffeur. She and her sisters all agreed, to wear it in a braid down her back would only invite trouble. White folk prejudices were never far away where brown skin and Indian braids were concerned. After what seemed like an eternity to her shattered nerves, the judge peered over his wire-framed glasses, his voice stabbing the anticipation in the room.

  “Mr. Hanover. Mr. O’Brien. As Miss No-Name’s attorneys, do you have any comments or concerns for the Court before I declare this young woman’s sentence?”

  Mr. Hanover answered. “No, Your Honor. We are confident the good citizens of Creede have used their common sense and Christian compassion in their judgement of this unfortunate young woman.”

  Amusement colored the judge’s face. He directed his comments to Mr. Hanover.

  “Yes, unfortunate, indeed. It seems this trial was moved here as a change of venue from Kansas City, Missouri. I don’t know how you did it, Hiram, but you must have some pretty good friends in some powerful places to get that done. Although I do see the necessity in getting Miss No-Name’s trial out of Kansas, considering the dead man’s father is the mayor of Kansas City and the cousin of one of the wealthiest men this side of the Mississippi.”

  Mr. Hanover smiled. “Very fortunate indeed, Your Honor.”

  Then the judge sobered and returned to his papers.

  Dear Lord, would the man ever get to it? She hoped she didn’t have to wait much longer to learn if she would live or die. Otherwise, she would surely pass out. Her knees wobbled. Her anxiety had reached a critical tipping point and she wasn’t sure she could stay upright. Mr. O’Brien must have sensed her vulnerability. He curved his hand under her arm to steady her but withdrew his hand as soon she steadied.

  Faith’s stomach plummeted at his touch. She fancied herself in love with the handsome attorney. After all, they had spent nearly every day together for the last six months, preparing her defense. But it was obvious to even a blind fool he didn’t return her affections. Why would he develop special feelings for someone like her? She was an Indian half-breed orphan who’d killed a white man.

  “Faith No-Name, are you prepared to hear your sentence as determined by a jury of your peers?”

  Fear rocketed through her chest, pumping adrenalin through every artery and vein. They were hardly her peers, all white men and woman in judgement of a half-breed, but she nodded her agreement anyway.

  “Very well.”

  “Miss No-Name, you have been found guilty in the death of Baxter Griffin, resident of Kansas City, Missouri. The facts in this case clearly show Mr. Griffin acted with malcontent to cause you harm when he tried to ra—uh, when he attacked you in your living quarters located above your place of employment.

  However, because most proper young women should expect this kind of behavior in a place like the Ruby Slipper Saloon, you are to be held accountable for your part in his death as well. Let the records also show you have lead a decent life, considering your lack of proper upbringing. And there was not one witness to be found who had anything negative to say about your demeanor or your actions toward other folks. Since it appears you pose no threat to those who mean you no harm, I have no reservations in handing down your sentence.

  “As of today, you, Miss Faith No-Name, are remanded into the custody of your legal counselors, Mr. Hiram Hanover and Mr. Liam O’Brien, for a period of one year.”

  Faith’s hands fisted in her skirt. Nervous energy caused her body to shiver uncontrollably. They found me guilty. But I’m not going to hang? What does this mean?

  “You will reside in Mr. Hanover’s home, work in the law partnership of Hanover and O’Brien, and in all things, be account
able to them for the next three hundred and sixty-five days. One year, Miss No-Name. Any behavior that falls outside of these edicts will be met with the harshest of consequences.” The judge turned his piercing eyes to the senior partner of Hanover and O’Brien Law Office. “Mr. Hanover, if at any time, this woman does not follow the letter of the law regarding her sentence, you or Mr. O’Brien are to turn her over to the sheriff of Creede immediately. She will then be transported without delay to the nearest penal community to serve the remainder of her term.”

  Judge Williams peered over his wire-rimmed glasses at her. “Do you understand your sentence, Miss No-Name?”

  Faith nodded.

  Mr. Hanover leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “Faith, the judge would like to hear that you understand your sentence.”

  It took all her courage to speak. Her throat was dry. She could barely move her mouth.

  “The judge is awaiting your answer,” Mr. Hanover whispered.

  She nodded again and inhaled a deep breath to calm her nerves.

  “Of course, Your Honor. I mean, yes, sir. I understand.” She had no idea how to address the judge who had just given her a second chance at living her life. Her whole life.

  The judge nodded his satisfaction then turned to both attorneys. “Mr. Hanover. Mr. O’Brien. Do you have any questions for the Court?”

  Both men answered in unison. “No, Your Honor.”

  “Then I declare this trial adjourned.”

  The judge banged his gavel on the schoolteacher’s wooden desk, signaling it was all over. A resounding clamor in the audience heralded a new beginning for her, an unwanted little Indian girl who’d ended up on the doorstep of Reverend Baker’s orphanage with nothing more than a note that said she had no one to care for her. They didn’t even leave her name so Reverend Baker named her Faith. Perhaps he gave her that name because he thought she could use some.

  “Well, my dear.” Mr. Hanover grinned and packed up his files and stuffed them in his leather satchel. “It appears you are no longer staring at a noose around your neck. A year will come and go before you know it and I can assure you, Aggie and I are looking forward to you and your sisters in our home.”

  Faith couldn’t believe it. “So, are you saying that I am free to go?”

  Mr. Hanover patted her shoulder. “Yes, within the confines of your sentence. You will be under the watchful supervision of the Hanover-O’Brien Law Office for the next year. All that means is you will work in our law practice and reside with Aggie and me in our home.”

  The gray-haired man nodded and smiled at a passerby then returned his attention to her.

  “I’m off to find my wife. I think a celebration is in order. Come to our house, say,” he pulled his pocket watch out of his coat pocket and flipped the cover open, “in half an hour for Aggie’s famous butter cookies and the best damned Irish whiskey this side of the Mississippi.” He pocketed his watch and gave a wink to Liam, standing behind her, and then off he went to find his wife.

  Faith watched the robust attorney spryly stride up the aisle despite his ample girth. He found his wife halfway to the front door, chatting with a group of ladies between rows of student desks. The gregarious man kissed his wife with unabashed affection and placed his arm around her full figure. They turned and waved at her then left the schoolhouse, headed down the front steps arm-in-arm.

  Tears stung her eyes. Would she ever have a happily-ever-after like the Hanovers? She had no real hope of that ever happening, but she was still fool enough to dream.

  Faith gathered her courage and turned to offer thanks to her other attorney for his hard work in winning her freedom. He gathered the papers strewn on the desk in front of them and stuffed them in his leather rectangular briefcase and slammed the lid shut, the iron springs closing with a snap. He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and turned to go.

  Afraid she would miss her chance to thank the object of her misguided affection she spoke just loud enough for him to hear.

  “Thank you, Mr. O’Brien…for everything you have done for me. I don’t know how I will ever repay you—”

  “Repayment isn’t required.” His response was clipped. “I was simply doing my job.” He turned away from her and disappeared out the side door of the makeshift courtroom.

  Faith’s heart ached. She longed for the day the auburn-haired, blue-eyed Irishman would gather her in his arms and kiss her senseless in the privacy of their marriage bed. But that was a fool’s desire.

  Faith shook her head and returned to the present. She knew she would never possess Liam’s affection. He was a decent man. A respected man. He could never look at her as a proper young woman. She was a half-breed orphan with no family, no means, and no future. A man like him would never take a woman like her as a wife.

  “Faith! Thank the good Lord.” Her sister, Grace, followed by her husband, John, and her other two adopted sisters, Hope and Charity, pushed their way through the remaining crowd and swarmed her, smothering her in familiar and loving hugs.

  She relished the heartfelt embraces of her sisters from the orphanage and allowed herself a moment to appreciate her good fortune. Their bond was forged from adversity and need and love—so much stronger than any blood bond could ever be.

  “I am so grateful to all of you. Especially you, Grace. For leaving Kansas City, traveling to Creede, and marrying John, a total stranger. You gave us all a new chance at life. A good life.” She hugged Grace, doing her best to hold her tears at bay. “I wouldn’t have stood a chance back in Kansas City with the mayor out to make someone pay for his son’s death.”

  “Yeah, you should have had to pay, you half-breed.” A woman Faith didn’t recognize stood in front of her, hands on hips, a scowl across her face.

  A stunned silence filled every nook and cranny of the schoolroom and settled on the remaining onlookers.

  Faith’s sisters rallied in front of her, protecting her from the unknown attacker.

  Charity spoke up first. “Just who the hell are you and what gives you the right to call my sister a—“

  “A half-breed?” The woman sneered. “I call her that because that is what she is. A heathen savage. She ain’t fit to be around us God-fearing folks.”

  Faith glanced at the woman and then quickly looked at Charity. This would not end peaceably with Charity in charge.

  The woman was wiry with stooped shoulders. Her face covered in worry-worn

  crevices. It was obvious the woman had lived a hard life.

  Charity squared her shoulders and rounded on her attacker. “I’ll have you know, Miss-Know-It-All, we was all raised by the Holy Reverend Moses Baker and there ain’t no one more God-fearing than that man, so—“

  “Is there trouble here?” The voice of Creede’s sheriff, Miles Grayson, cut through the tension surrounding her, her sisters, and the woman who obviously took offense to her not hanging.

  Charity nearly swooned. Faith was certain she had a sweet tooth for the handsome sheriff. Every time Sheriff Grayson was near, her chatty sister couldn’t seem to utter a single word.

  The angry woman continued to sneer in Faith’s direction, but she didn’t offer any more slurs. A curt nod toward the sheriff and she lifted her skirts as if she were afraid they might touch the likes of her and become fouled. Clusters of bystanders parted to let the woman out the front door. She disappeared down the steps and into the streets of Creede, leaving behind an awkward silence. Now, all eyes were on Faith. She wanted to disappear between the floorboards.

  Instead, she stiffened her spine and summoned what courage she could. Embarrassed and humiliated, she shouldn’t be surprised at this sort of treatment. She was used to it. But this time, it seemed personal. Was it possible the man she had killed was somehow related to this woman? It was a long distance from Kansas City to Creede, but if it had been someone she cared about, Faith could see why the woman would make the long trip. It was too late to ask the woman her reasons now. She hoped she wouldn’t run into her
on the street during the next year. And then again, maybe an encounter would give Faith a chance to explain to the woman what really happened. That is, if she was of a mind to listen.

  “Come on, Faith. Ignore that harpy. And wipe those tears off your face. You just escaped the hangman’s noose. You should be jumping for joy.” Hope hooked arms with her and led them all up the schoolroom aisle toward the front door.

  Charity, the youngest of her rough-and-ready siblings, hooked arms on her other side.

  “Yeah Faith, you could be swinging from a tree right now. And the cream on the cat’s whiskers is that us three is moving into the Hanovers’ pretty house. Now ain’t we the lucky ones?”

  “Charity! You have got to learn to curb that tongue of yours,” Grace chastised the youngest of the misfit sisters.

  “Well, hell. What’d I say wrong this time?” Charity stopped in the middle of the aisle, posting fisted hands on her hips.

  Hope pulled loose from Faith and pushed Charity up the aisle. “Charity, I think we should head on over to the Hanovers for some of Aggie’s butter cookies and Sarah’s bread pudding before things get out of hand. Again. And, I doubt the Reverend Baker was holy. He was a good man, but he wasn’t a saint or anything.”

  Not willing to let her sister have the last word, Charity refused to let the subject drop. “He could have been a saint. You don’t know whether he was or not, Miss Know-It-All.”