by Frank Leslie
As he began to rise from his knees with Faith in his arms, her head wobbled to one side. Her eyes fluttered and turned glassy. Yakima stared down at her, his tongue dry, his mouth open as if to speak but not saying anything until finally her name brushed over his lips like the rustling of a parched, inner breeze.
She lay slack and silent, her head tipped slightly to one side as though staring up at the room in which Yakima had found her.
He shook her slightly. “Faith?”
Her head wobbled and her arms, hanging slack, jostled, her fingertips brushing the ground, her boot heels making a soft scraping sound in the dirt.
Yakima knelt stone-faced with shock, staring down at Faith lying still in his arms.
Vaguely, as though the sounds came from another plane, he heard a man shout, “Breed!” Boots thumped above the roar of the flames spreading down from the second-story window to the porch roof.
Another voice that he absently registered as that of Brody Harms cried, “Yakima, look out!”
There was the crackle of gunfire behind him and ahead. Yakima did not respond to the shots. He continued staring down at Faith, his heart thudding dully.
Boots thumped and spurs rang like cracked bells.
Again, guns flashed in the night. A man groaned. Yakima turned slowly to see a figure stumble down the porch steps and fall facedown in the yard.
The man’s head rose from the ground, the cross tattooed into his forehead seeming to pulse and glow, and then there was another gun flash and bark.
The man’s head dropped like a stone.
Yakima turned back to his woman.
“Faith?” He supported her head with his knee and one hand while smoothing her hair back from her temple with the other.
Scuffing sounds rose as Brody Harms, holding his smoking revolver down low in his right hand, ambled toward Yakima, dragging his wounded right leg. The man dropped to a knee. His broad chest rose and fell sharply as he breathed. He said nothing.
Yakima looked at him. The fire danced in the Easterner’s dusty spectacles, but they could not conceal the lines of horror etched like spokes around his eyes. He reached out to lay a finger to Faith’s neck. After a moment, he raised his stricken eyes to Yakima.
He dropped his gaze and removed his glasses.
The half-breed looked down at his woman sagging in his arms, and shook her one more time. Her eyes continued staring at the leaping flames, sight-less, tear-glazed. On her lips was etched a fateful, beguiling half smile.
Yakima threw his head back on his shoulders. His cry careened across the night and echoed toward the stars.
“Faith!”
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
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