Faith: A Historical Western Romance (A Merry Mail Order Bride Romance Series Book 2)

by Amy Field

  “I work hard!” She could feel herself growing defensive.

  “Yes, yes, yes you do.” She nodded his head and took her hand in his. “You are a very hard worker. But what is it you work so hard for. Is this,” he gestured all around the room. “Is this what you really want? Fancy dinners and men to drive you around town? Friends who use you and abuse you, but don’t seem to care much for you. A sport you no longer love. Is this what you want for your life?”

  Katie was on the verge of tears. She knew the questions he was asking were true and good and honest, but she was afraid of her answers, how they might change her life, and what he might think of her if he actually knew. Lance was right. She wasn’t the person Jacob thought she was, and she never could be.

  She wiped her mouth with her cloth napkin, and then her eyes delicately. Without looking up she hissed, “What would you have me do, Jacob?”

  He sipped his coffee again. “Well, tell me, you were planning our wedding today, ya? Your manager, your publicist, they got their input, what did they say? What would you like for us to do?”

  She knew he would not like any of it. “I don’t know all of the details yet,” she admitted, trying to soften the blow. “But they’d like to hold it at the start of the games in Pyeongchang. It’ll be an Olympic Wedding to remember. And then, presuming I win the gold….”

  “But Katie,” he interrupted. “Neither of us live in South Korea. Your family is here in the States, and mine is in Switzerland. What kind of sense does it make to have our wedding away from our families.”

  She anticipated this one. “I get that, I do. But my family will already be over for the competition, and we’re happy to pay to fly your folks and Dina out, and even pay for someone to watch the lodge while they’re away…”

  “No, I get that,” Jacob answered. He did seem to understand this better than she gave him credit for. “And my family would want to support you as much as anyone else. But why turn out wedding into some kind of a marketing event? Shouldn’t this be about us and our lives together?”

  “Well, it would be. I mean, this is almost certainly my last Olympics, whether I win or not, and so getting married as I close one Chapter of my life.”

  “But wouldn’t it make more sense to marry as you begin the new Chapter?” He said it with enthusiasm, not so much cutting down her idea as wanting to make a point with his. “I’m not saying we have to marry in Switzerland. My family is small, and they can easily travel to wherever. But you have friends and family here: in New York, in Chicago, in Kansas. Wouldn’t you want them to be part of your wedding? Wouldn’t you rather be surrounded by people who love you and care about you for the woman that you are, rather than the athlete that you’ve been?”

  His voice had been growing louder as he spoke, and a few people were now beginning to stare.

  “Jacob,” she said, notably lowering her voice. “I understand what you’re saying, and I don’t disagree. But this just seems like such an opportunity…”

  “An opportunity for what?” He actually pounded his fist on the table now, clattering the glass and silver. “To impress people you don’t really care about? To outdo people who don’t really care about you? Can’t you see, Catherine, this is pointless. You find what you want and then you go for it. If you don’t want all of this, then why keep wasting your time? Why waste your life? Why waste our life?”

  He’d crossed a line now and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

  “How dare you?” She hissed, standing up and staring him down. “How dare you put this on me. ‘Find what you love and go for it’? That’s what you did, following me here. I don’t see you making much accommodation. It’s not like you’re trying to fit in with my friends or become part of my life here. You’ve known me for all of a month and you think you know me? You think you know my friends? You think you know what I love? This,” she gestured around. “This is my life. This is what I’ve built for myself and what I’ve known. If you don’t want this, then you don’t want me.”

  But Jacob wasn’t backing down. He didn’t rise and didn’t match her shout. He didn’t acknowledge the stares or even the camera phones which started to go off. He simply spoke clearly and calmly. “I don’t believe that for one minute, and I don’t believe that you do either. You’re angry and you’re hurting and it makes sense, because money can get to people like that, but you know that I love you—deep down in your bones and your guts you know that—and you know that I want the best for you. Let’s refocus. Move back to Kansas. Train hard. And show the world just what Catherine Cory is made of.”

  He smiled that honest grin of his, and looked with those piercing eyes. And it was more than she could take.

  “I. Can’t Do. This. Right. Now.” She started sobbing, deep ugly sobs. No one in the restaurant was making any pretence to not be watching, and the headwaiter was making his way over to try and shoo them out. She gave him a glance which steeled him in his tracks. “I have too much in my life right now, Jacob, and if all you’re going to provide is more drama, this just clearly isn’t going to work out.” She fumbled with her billfold and pulled out a wad of cash, throwing it on the table. “Sorry for your trouble.”

  Jacob closed his eyes and the tears began to fall. He put his heads in his hands and sat in silence for a full minute, as did the whole restaurant. Then he rose without drying his tears and walked around the table to Katie. He spoke very quietly. “I do not want your money, and I never have.” He looked down at the cash on the table, picked it up, folded it, and pressed it into Katie’s hand. “Money may not be the root of all evil, but the love of it will rot a man’s heart. Money will not answer the hunger in your heart, Catherine. And your friends who love you for your money will not be there for you when the money is gone, when your career is past, and when you are old and tired and injured. You need true friends for that time. What will become of you then?”

  The words came out of her in great sobs now, like the very life of her was coming out through her mouth. “My. Name. Is. Katie.”

  He looked at her through sad eyes, blinked away his tears, and then leaned in, whispered in her ear so no one else could hear. “I promised myself to you, Catherine, to you and no one else. I love you, and I will always love you, and nothing can take that away. You do not want me now, but I will be waiting, should you ever want me again.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  Katie drank that night. She drank a lot. She drank enough that she started really hating on herself, which only encouraged her to drink the more. This went on into the small hours of the morning. Unable to sleep, she started playing with her phone. She had a billion Facebook notifications waiting that she hadn’t done anything with for ages. As she opened the tab the very first thing she saw was a friend request from Lance. Without even thinking it, she hit accept.

  For a few brief moments she wondered if she had just invited something horrible into her life. After all, he was kind of a crazy stalker type, but he’d obviously made it off of the mountain, and just as she’d gotten some perspective on coming back to civilization, maybe he had too.

  Her imagination didn’t have long to work, because just a couple minutes later her phone beeped with the familiar notification. Not only had he accepted, but he had initiated a chat.

  Lance: What’s up, Ice Queen? Warm up after coming home?

  Katie: Guess you could say that.

  Lance: Things didn’t turn out so hot with the Swedish Boy Scout?

  Katie: He’s Swiss, but no, things kind of fell apart.

  Lance: I know.

  Okay, now she was starting to get creeped out again. Was he following her here in the States? Stalking her, even?

  Katie: How did you know that?

  Lance: It’s all over Twitter and Instagram. If you’re going to have a lover’s quarrel, you should probably do so in a less public place.

  Katie quickly googled her own name. Dammit, he was right: photo, video, even transcription had started sh
owing up on every major news and sports medial outlet. Her publicist would be having kittens.

  Katie: This is so embarrassing.

  Lance: Don’t sweat it, Sweet cheeks. Most people get it worse.

  Katie: I just don’t know what to do.

  Lance: Wanna talk about it?

  Katie: Not really.

  Lance: Wanna not talk about it?

  Katie: Yup.

  Lance: I’m in town.

  Katie: What?

  Lance: Yeppers. Interviewing experts for a case the next three days. Staying in midtown. Want to come see me?

  She considered it.

  Katie: No.

  Lance: Really?

  Katie: You come see me.

  She sent him the address and immediately knew it was a mistake. Later she would wonder if it was the booze, but the truth of it was simply self-loathing. She hated herself for what she was doing to Jacob and she wanted to do something that seemed to fit her new sense of self. So Lance came over, and they didn’t talk about it. They didn’t talk about it over and over and over again. And when Lance did talk he said awful, nasty things to her, and she liked it, because it confirmed what she knew about herself. And he made her say awful nasty things to him, and it felt so right. And when he left the next morning and she felt hungover and degraded, she made a point of inviting him over again that night. With him, at least, she wouldn’t have to pretend to be something that she was not. She was free to be as awful as she felt.

  It wasn’t long before the media caught sight of the two of them together in public. Lance was a good lawyer, and he never said or did anything in public that would tarnish his reputation as the perfect wealthy boyfriend to the successful Olympic speed skater. He’d visit her in New York and Chicago, and she competed a couple of times in L.A. He as always on her about her weight, and so she more or less stopped eating. And though her times got better, she was always tired and seemed to lack the spark that she had when she’d first returned from the Alps. Her parents knew better than to ask what had happened, and in many ways, the relationship with Lance made more sense. If the Alps had never happened, he was likely what she would have wound up with anyway.

  Chapter 6

  A little more than a year had passed since the trip to the Alps. Katie and Lance had moved on, and while there was no talk of marriage in the future, they dutifully assumed their roles as a minor celebrity couple. Her life revolved around eating very little, training very much, and thinking about that magic moment when the gun would go off and the race of a lifetime would begin.

  South Korea was a dream come true for Katie. This was her final chance to prove herself as an athlete; it was do or die time, and she meant to do. Her parents had come over two weeks early, when she and the rest of the team did, and Steve and his family came the day before the first round qualifiers. Pete was there and nervous as ever, and her publicist assured her that this would be the opportunity to win back the celebrity she had lost with that “unfortunate incident’ in New York’s finest restaurant. She was determined to see it through. Even Lance was supposed to come, though obviously at the last minute. He was a very important lawyer, after all.

  She gazed at herself in the mirror in the locker room before heading out for the first race. She looked as good in her red, white, and blue uniform as she ever had, and she had reached the pinnacle of success in her chosen field. Why, then, did she feel so empty? Anyone in the world would have given anything to stand in her stakes in that moment—anyone except the one person in the world she most wanted in her life. She put thoughts of him out of her mind. He would not be a distraction today of all days.

  “It’s time.” Pete’s voice broke her concentration and she smiled at his head poking through the door.

  “Be right there,” she replied, adjusting her headgear and prepping for the race.

  Katie made the walk towards the starting blocks. AS she exited the tunnel, she could feel the chill of the air against her face. It was a familiar feeling, and it made her feel at home. As she skated up to her blocks she found herself doing something that she didn’t normally do, and had never done when racing, as far as she could remember. She prayed, even as she had back during those weeks in the Alps, thanking God, the Universe, or whomever was responsible for all of this.

  The crowd was cheering wildly, and Katie could feel the vibrations of the other skaters on the surface of the ice. Her balance was perfect and her blades slice cleanly through the surface. She was, absolutely, at the top of her game. The finish line looked like it was right in front of her. All she’d have to do as make a strong start and catch a solid enough lead, and this should be an easy win. Her heart swelled as she heard, first in person and then over the loudspeaker,

  “On our marks!”

  She steadied herself.

  “Get set!” She shook her head, trying to get the image of Jacob and his piercing blue eyes out of her mind.

  “Go!”

  And she was off like a bullet. It was the most perfect skate of her life. This was the kind of zone you set a world record in. She found herself preparing the remarks she’d give to the press. Digging her skates in hard she tried to get as much traction as she could before entering the gliding stage of the race. She pulled in front of the pack quickly, then left behind her three main contenders, first one body length, then two, then three. She felt better, stronger, keener than ever. Destiny had etched in stone that she should win this race. It was one of the few perfect moments in her life. Like that night on the mountaintop that Jacob had proposed.

  Dammit, no! She was losing her head again, and she could feel the girls behind gaining on her. She wouldn’t let distraction blind her during these precious moments. She doubled down and started again to gain.

  The crowd went wild. This was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. She was setting multiple records simultaneously here. As she made the final bend she looked up at the crowd. They were on their feet going wild. She caught sight of her parents, her brother and his family, and even Lance, who while standing was, visibly doing something on his phone, totally disinterested in the race.

  And in that moment she saw how fake it all was. The crowd was excited because she was winning the race, but no one there, apart from her parents and brother, really cared about her as a person. Even for Lance she was little more than an amusing and convenient lay. And she remembered Jacob’s words, about what was really important, about pursuing your true love. And she could see his face again, and as the finish line came again into sight and she knew she would win the race she saw him again, standing on the other side of the finish line arms open ready to catch her.

  She didn’t see the crash so much as hear it, and feel the ice-cold pain shoot through her lower limbs. The rest was a blur. She saw the medics run out onto the ice, heard the cries of the skater she’d taken with her, the distant voices of the commentators announcing her win but concerned over the severity of her injuries. She saw her parents faces, eventually, her dad assuring her it would all be okay, and her mom telling her again and again and again how much she loved her and how good a job she’d done.

  She was in and out of consciousness for the next few hours. She heard snippets of things which echoed in her head like, “multiple fractures” and “definite nerve damage”. She wasn’t surprised when, in her stupor, a doctor came in to join her tear-stained parents to tell her that she would never skate again. In fact, he warned her, she might never even walk again.

  Pete stopped by to see her that first night, but was clearly more concerned about what this meant for the team than what it meant to her. He tried to be comforting and told her she’d had a good run, but she knew that she’d blown it at the crucial moment. This was her great shame.

  What surprised her least of all was that, after the few visitors she’d had from the team and from the games committee, she asked her parents about Lance. Her mother had simply burst into tears and her father had shook his head, tears in his eyes and not saying a word. He di
dn’t even bother to say goodbye, because really, their relationship had never been about talking, had it?

  In those early days in the hospital in South Korea Katie wanted desperately to die. If she’d had the ability she may well have committed suicide, but she was watched so closely, and so weak from the drugs that she couldn’t have managed much. But she learned despair from the inside out. It wasn’t until her first bath, perhaps four days after the accident that she started to recover her will to live. And it was entirely bound up in this: she simply wanted to be able to take care of herself again, whatever that meant, and whatever it took.

  Chapter 7

  Katie watched the rest of the Olympics from traction in her hospital bed at Pyongyang. After a month she was medivaced back to the States. There were, of course, lots of embarrassing news stories about her and her tragic fall from grace at the height of her career. The U.S. wound up taking both silver and bronze in women’s speed skating, but everyone said it would have been different, if only Katie Cory hadn’t…

  Because her injury had taken place during the Olympics, ostensibly in service to her country, one of the senators from Kansas had gotten her a bed at Walter Reed, the hospital in Bethesda that does all of the rehab with war veterans. The program was gruelling but effective. Despite the multiple fractures, nerve damage, and herniated disks in her back, within a month back at the States she was able to bear weight on one foot and was able to operate her own wheelchair. Long-term prospects looked good for walking, at least at short distances. The damage to her legs was bad but repairable; they’d but about a dozen pins in between both legs, and she’d never be able to walk through a metal detector again without setting it off, but her legs were healing up nicely. It was the nerve damage caused by the fall and the herniated discs in her back that were the real trouble. That’s what the long-term physical therapy was meant to improve.