Trial by Fire

by Tricia Andersen

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  Published by The Hartwood Publishing Group, LLC,

  Hartwood Publishing, Phoenix, Arizona

  www.hartwoodpublishing.com

  Trial by Fire

  Copyright © 2014 by Tricia Andersen

  Hartwood Release: May 2016

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Trial by Fire by Tricia Andersen

  Moments after pledging allegiance to a new homeland, Sloan O’Riley is arrested for the bombing in London he never committed. His only chance to stop his condemnation and a life in a Belfast prison is his wee wife, Abbey.

  Abbey throws herself into her husband’s past with the Irish Republican Army as she and her stepfather, Gordon, scour Great Britain for clues to Sloan’s innocence. With every clue she discovers to free her husband, she finds herself falling deeper and deeper into danger.

  As things heat up in the courtroom and on the streets of Belfast, Abbey fights for Sloan’s freedom. Will her actions exonerate Sloan from a life in prison? And will their love withstand Abbey becoming just like Sloan?

  Dedication

  To Rick – I am really glad I didn’t trade you off for a sister. Thanks for being the best brother I could possibly ask for.

  To Molly, Cassandra and Lisa – thanks for being the best beta readers, and friends, in the world.

  .

  Chapter One

  Family was important to Liam. Always had been. He’d give his last breath to defend them. It was a strange belief coming from a single man who hadn’t spoken to his own flesh and blood kin in two decades, but it was true nonetheless.

  He strolled down the concourse of the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport as he thought of his family. It wasn’t a traditional one by any means. But in Liam’s heart, they were just as close as any headed by a mother and father, perhaps even closer.

  It was thirty years ago when he and his best friend, Simon, both commanders in the Irish Republican Army, had been given charge of a new recruit. A ten-year-old. Both had been baffled by their new assignment. The boy was to live with them and train beside them. Their superiors had turned him away at least a dozen times. He just came back and wouldn’t leave them alone. They were to teach him and give him assignments. He was to start as a messenger, nothing more. As he grew, maybe he could earn more duties. He was only a child, after all.

  Liam remembered the first time he had stared into those defiant ice-blue eyes. He knew that they were going to have their hands full with this one.

  It took the rest of the day to draw out any information from the child. He didn’t talk. He wasn’t homesick. He wasn’t shy of them. No, the lad actually was disgusted that they weren’t out fighting. Neither Liam nor Simon had seen this much hatred for the enemy in a grown man, much less a lad so young. When they did get him talking, they quickly understood why.

  He had survived the skirmish at the butcher shop a year previous. It had been all over the news. His father and brother died instantly. This one had chased a ball into the street as all curious boys did. It saved his life, but it obviously hadn’t saved his soul.

  The ebony-haired, blue-eyed boy, who glared at Simon and Liam as he sat perched on the wooden chair, swinging his legs carefree beneath him, was none other than the miracle child, Thomas Morrison. Had he been taken on as a symbolic gesture, a rallying cry for their cause? They didn’t know. All they knew is that they had their marching orders—train the boy.

  At that moment, both Simon and Liam knew what they had to do. They needed to get young Tom out of the IRA as quickly as possible and get him back into the arms of his mother. He needed a chance at a good life full of love, not a life condemned to revenge.

  Unfortunately, their best intentions with the strong-willed kid failed dramatically.

  The three of them settled into a state of dysfunctional, domestic bliss. Liam took the mother role—making sure Tom did his homework, ate well, grew properly, slept, and laughed frequently. He had to admit that each time he heard the lad laugh it warmed his heart. It meant that they hadn’t lost him yet.

  Simon stepped into the father role. He trained Tom to fight. He believed it was prudent the boy be able to defend himself when he was sent out with messages. He disciplined the boy. He set the ground rules and demanded they be obeyed. There was no love lost between Simon and Tom. As Tom grew into a young man, Liam dreaded the day one of them would finally snap. With their Irish tempers and their knack for violence, it would have ended in a bloodbath.

  Neither Liam nor Simon knew who the bastard had been who started teaching Tom to make bombs. When they figured it out, they made it their personal mission to kill them. Because Tom was a natural. At the age of sixteen he nearly had a new, efficient trigger designed from the remote control cars they gave him for his birthday.

  And it was his undoing. Someone discovered Tom’s design and was able to duplicate it. He was squarely blamed for the bombing in London despite the fact his own prototype wasn’t even finished. It was what finally shook him free of the IRA. It also tore apart Liam’s little family. He was forced to stay in Belfast to work toward a peace agreement as his best friend and their now sixteen-year-old shared adopted son ran for their lives.

  Liam would be lying if he said he didn’t worry. He did. Constantly. The phone calls nearly every night from Simon pleading with him that he had no idea what to do with this kid were reassuring. It meant they were alive. And they hadn’t killed each other yet. However, before too long, the calls became less frequent. Simon learned how to become a real father to Tom. They reached a common ground.

  Then Tom found a new calling—art. As with bomb making, he was exceptional at it. He quickly became wealthy. No longer was he wearing clothes from the thrift store. He was wearing tailor-made designer suits. He sent large sums of money back to Belfast to provide for his mother and sister. He bought the fastest cars. He ate the finest food. His wealth came just in time. It paid for plastic surgery and bodyguards for him and for Simon after an attempt on his life. Tom became Sloan O’Riley. Simon changed his name to Gordon.

  But as Gordon and Liam feared, Sloan became cold. He was devious. He was manipulating. He lost his soul. Despite what Gordon and Liam taught him about women—that he couldn’t fall in love at the risk that she could be used against him by those who wanted him—they knew then that he needed love desperately.

  In stepped Abbey, a sweet, beautiful children’s author from Iowa. Sloan lost his heart to her the second he laid eyes on her. He fought to keep her. And keep her he did.

  Liam smiled to himself. Which brought him to why he was walking through this airport in the United States and not in Belfast. It seemed the CIA had put pressure on Sloan to obtain his American citizenship. They cleared him to return after he escaped Belfast a second time so he could find and win back Abbey, who had been carrying his child. They wanted to know his intentions in the United States were noble.


  However, this was five years later. There wasn’t just one child, there were two. And little Ethan was a noisy bugger. It had been difficult for the new father to study all there was to know about the U.S. of A. with a crying infant.

  Gordon and Maggie, Sloan’s little sister, offered to take the test with him, so they could study together. Gordon now had Mary, Abbey’s mother. Maggie was happily married to Bartholomew. Their lives were permanently settled in the United States, just like Sloan’s. Becoming citizens was the next logical step. They had each taken the test and passed with flying colors.

  Liam was here to witness their citizenship ceremony. He was extremely proud of them all, despite the fact they would be declaring allegiance to a new motherland. These two men and Maggie were his family. He wouldn’t miss it for the world.

  He was startled from his thoughts by a familiar brogue. “Liam!”

  Liam’s grin grew as he wrapped his best friend in a bear hug. “Gordon! I’m glad to see you, brother.”

  Liam stepped back to shoot a crazy grin at the auburn-haired woman at Gordon’s side. The fact that Gordon had found love this side of the pond made him happy. Maybe he needed to spend some extra time in the States. Maybe his ladylove was here, too. “Hello, Mary. Keeping this one out of trouble, I see.”

  Mary returned the hug Liam gave her. “Looks are deceiving, Liam. I’m happy to see you.”

  The three of them looked up to see two couples approaching, each of the pairs with their arms wrapped around their partners. Liam greeted Robert and Bartholomew, the men Gordon hired to help protect Sloan as his fame had grown. The four formed their own family, a band of brothers who looked out for each other.

  Liam wrapped his arm around Bartholomew’s bride and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Maggie hugged Liam just as tightly.

  “How are you, lass?”

  “Fantastic, Liam.” She smiled at her husband. “I really couldn’t be better.”

  After meeting Robert’s wife, Vicki, Liam turned to face Gordon. He paused before he spoke. “And the boy?”

  “He told me he was coming,” Gordon answered.

  Both men looked at Mary as she cleared her throat. They turned in the direction she nodded.

  There he stood.

  Sloan had always been a dominating presence, even as a child. It was good to see some things never changed. He was dressed in a pair of tight, low-cut blue jeans and a dark charcoal T-shirt. A pair of expensive Italian boots peeked from beneath the cuffs of his pants. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes. His thick, black hair was damp and rumpled from a recent shower.

  Cradled in his arm and held tight to his chest was a tiny infant boy dressed in an elaborate sailor outfit. Tucked close to his side was a woman with long brown hair wisping around her shoulders. Her warm brown eyes took in the scene before her. She wore a baby pink V-neck T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

  Her arm was wrapped around a little girl standing in front of her, dressed in a navy sundress with little flowers. She had the same long, black curls as her aunt and her daddy’s ice-blue eyes.

  Abbey gazed up at Sloan and then offered her hands silently to take the baby from him. He very gently handed her the little boy. Then he squared his shoulders back and strode across the concourse until he stood nearly toe-to-toe with Liam.

  “Liam,” Sloan greeted smoothly.

  “Tom,” Liam returned.

  “It’s Sloan now. Remember?”

  “You’ll always be my Tom, lad. Don’t forget it.”

  They stared at each other for a moment before Liam tugged Sloan into a bear hug. He felt Sloan’s bravado fade as the large man hugged him back.

  “How are you, boy?” Liam questioned.

  “I’m great. Everything is great. A little sleep-deprived, but great,” Sloan answered.

  As Liam released Sloan from the hug, he found Abbey beside them. He wasted no time wrapping the woman in a hug, listening to her giggle as he did so. At some point, she had passed Amelia to Gordon and Ethan to Mary. This girl really was the angel her husband made her out to be.

  “Abbey girl, it’s good to see you,” Liam admitted.

  “It’s good to see you, too, Liam. I’m so glad you’re here,” she replied.

  Liam let her go. “Now, you two, let me see my kids. I haven’t gotten to see either other than on Skype except for Ame when she was a baby.”

  They laughed as Sloan reached his hand out for Amelia. Liam kneeled to get on the level of the shy little girl. “Do you know who I am, Ame?”

  Ame shook her head. Liam grinned. “I’m Uncle Liam. Bet I look different than when we talk on the computer.”

  Ame’s eyes grew wide in realization. She wrapped her little arms around his neck. He lifted her in his arms and then gazed down at the baby Abbey had reclaimed from Mary. “Abbey, Ethan is getting so big. He’s beautiful.”

  Abbey gently stroked her fingers over her son’s back as she held him against her chest. “I have a feeling he’s going to look a lot like his daddy.”

  Liam glanced at Sloan. The sunglasses were long gone. Sloan watched his family, a look of pride radiating from his face.

  Gordon clamped his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Let’s get you settled in back at our house then get something to eat. You’ve got to be starving from your trip.”

  “Sounds like a great idea,” Liam admitted. He balanced Ame on his hip as he handed his carry-on bag to Sloan. Together, the entire family made their way toward baggage claim. Once they had Liam’s bag, Gordon, Mary, and Liam made their way to Gordon’s truck. Their first stop was the couple’s house to drop off Liam’s luggage.

  The stop at Gordon and Mary’s was brief, just long enough for Liam to settle into his room and enjoy a quick cup of coffee with the couple. Once they were finished with their mugs and their chat, they climbed into Gordon’s truck and headed for dinner. It wasn’t a moment too soon. Liam’s stomach was already grumbling.

  He stared, puzzled, out the window as the cityscape of Minneapolis faded away. He turned toward his best friend. “Gordon, where exactly are we having supper?”

  Gordon chuckled. “At Café O’Riley. Sloan can get us into any restaurant in the city. His influence hasn’t faded one bit. If anything, it’s grown. But with our number, it’s just easier to eat at their house.”

  Mary leaned her arms against the front bucket seats as she piped up from the back. “Besides, it gives Ame and Ethan free rein of familiar surroundings.”

  Liam chuckled. “Ah. They’ve barely graced the planet, and they’re running the show.”

  Gordon joined him in a laugh. “Get used to it, Liam. Those young couples are very much in love. There are more babies to come. I’m not sure the next time we’ll see the inside of a restaurant.”

  Conversation made the trip quick. Even though Liam and Gordon talked a couple of times a week, there was still so much to catch up on.

  Liam glanced around at the large, expensive homes on either side of the truck as they drove through the neighborhood. Each one had to be worth at least a few million apiece. He smiled as Gordon pulled into the driveway of a sprawling, one-story white house. The couple dozen windows were trimmed with black shutters. Simplistic. Modern. It was certainly Sloan’s. A sparkling lake shimmered in the background.

  The door opened before they reached it. Abbey’s smile greeted them from the doorway. Ame dashed around her mother, not stopping until she was in her grandpa’s arms.

  Abbey shook her head at her daughter as she laughed. “Come on in. There’s cheese, crackers, and fruit on the island in the kitchen. Sloan is lighting the grill right now. I’ll get you gentlemen a beer. Would you like a glass of wine, Mom?”

  Mary hugged Abbey as she stepped in the house. “That would be wonderful, sweetheart. Where are the others?”

  “On the way. They should be here shortly.”

  Liam followed Gordon and Mary inside, stopping for a moment to wrap Abbey in a bear hug. His eyes widened as he took in the place.

  The li
ving room was wide open and larger than the entire apartment he, Gordon, and Sloan had shared in Belfast. The far wall was lined with windows that led out to a pool. Right off the living room was a kitchen that would make a professional chef weep in envy. Connected to that area was a large, formal dining room, completely set with fine china and one plastic cartoon plate for Ame.

  A hallway led to the other section of the house. Liam could only assume the bedrooms and bathrooms were down there.

  Abbey shepherded them into the kitchen and handed them each a small plate. Once Liam and Gordon stacked some crackers and cheese, they journeyed their way to the backyard to see their adopted son, leaving Mary to visit with her daughter.

  Sloan flashed his trademark smirk as the two older men stepped through the sliding glass door.

  Liam returned the smile. “A beautiful home you have here, boy.”

  “Thank you,” Sloan answered as he slit open a package of steaks. “It reminded me of home.”

  “How could this mansion remind you of that little house of your Da and Ma’s?”

  Sloan chuckled. “Frogs. It reminded me of the frogs Ethan and I used to catch. I found one in the grass when the realtor brought me by. It brought back memories of Ma screaming when they got loose. The heartless bastard that I am, I wanted to hear my wee wife scream the same way. So ultimately, I bought the house for Abigail. Just so I could hear her scream.”

  “Has that happened yet?”

  “Ame and I have caught three frogs so far. The most we’ve gotten was a growl of ‘Get them out of here.’”

  “And you’re just going to get the same answer,” Abbey interrupted from behind them. She handed each of the three men one of the bottles of beer intertwined between her fingers. “So, really, you should just stop trying.” She winked at her husband and turned away.

  Sloan’s eyes were transfixed on his wife’s departing figure. It took a moment for him to come to his senses. Liam’s grin grew wider. Sloan certainly wasn’t that defiant child anymore. It was amazing what love could do to a man.