Faith

by Peggy McKenzie

  Finally he began again. “I am truly sorry you had to witness that scene between myself and Mrs. Markham. It was unexpected, and I can assure you, I was not a willing participant. I hope you believe me.”

  Her heart hiccupped as she listened to his words of apology. He was apologizing to her. What could that mean? Did his kiss last night mean something after all?

  She really should say something. But what? She dared not declare her feelings for him. She was certain he would run for the hills if he knew how much he mattered to her. After all, she was not really his type.

  “Why does it matter what I believe?”

  She met his gaze, searching for truth in those blue depths.

  Before Liam could answer, Hiram popped his head inside the office door. “I’m sorry, Liam. Could you stop by the Bensons’ house next to the telegraph office on your way to court? I have some documents for them to sign.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be on my way as soon as I compose our brief for Mr. Mitchell’s case.”

  Hiram nodded and went back to his office, leaving her and Liam in awkward silence.

  Liam grabbed papers out of his leather briefcase and spread them over the top of his desk. He looked in her direction and self-preservation had her shrinking against the wall. Would she ever learn to be brave and stop trying to become invisible?

  “Well, I guess I should get busy. Maybe after my meeting with the judge, we can finish our talk?”

  Her shyness swept over her, and she ducked her head but nodded her agreement.

  “Good. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

  Her heart beat a little bit faster. He said he was looking forward to it. She backed out of his office and closed the door.

  She smiled to herself.

  “No more than I am, Mr. Liam O’Brien. No more than I am.”

  19

  Liam finished his legal brief on behalf of Jed Mitchell and hurried down to the makeshift court in the schoolhouse. He entered the cool interior and spotted the judge, Mr. Markham, and his attorney.

  “Is this a private conversation or can anyone join?” Liam asked.

  “Mr. O’Brien. Thank you for being prompt.” The judge gave a friendly smile and donned his black robe. “Shall we get this hearing underway?”

  “Your Honor, I would like to postpone today’s hearing, if that is agreeable to fellow counsel and his client.” Liam nodded in Mr. Markham’s direction.

  “What kind of legal mumbo jumbo is this?” Mr. Markham directed his question to the judge who was busy reviewing Liam’s brief.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary. It seems the plaintiff needs more time to prepare his case for trial.”

  The judge looked over Liam’s brief at Mr. Markham.

  “Does the defendant have any objections with postponing today’s hearing?”

  Mr. Markham’s attorney whispered in his client’s ear. Liam could tell Markham was annoyed by the delay. Liam was certain the man thought this would be a quick dismissal since he was Travis Markham. But this judge was a good and honest court official. Liam was confident the case would see justice.

  The judge addressed Liam. “I’m assuming you have good reason for asking for this postponement.”

  “Yes, Your Honor. I do.”

  “And would you care to share what those reasons are?”

  Liam smiled. “Not at the present, but I can assure you we will be prepared for trial when you return.”

  The judge nodded. “Very well then. If there are no objections from the defendant…” The judge peered over his glasses to where Markham and his attorney stood.

  Liam watched the two men confer and then his legal counsel spoke.

  “No, Your Honor. We have no objections to the postponement of today’s hearing.”

  “Very well. The case of Jedidiah Mitchell vs. Travis Markham is postponed until two weeks from today. I expect both sides to be ready.”

  “Thank you, sir. We will be ready.” Liam stuffed his papers back into his briefcase and snapped it closed.

  “Next case, please.” The judge banged the gavel on the teacher’s desk.

  “What stunt are you and that lowlife Mitchell up to, O’Brien?” Travis Markham blocked the aisle.

  “No stunt, Mr. Markham. My client wanted more time to present all the facts in his case against you. Nothing more. Nothing less. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Liam waited for the man to move. Finally the man moved at the insistence of his attorney’s hand on his elbow, urging him not to make a scene in front of the very judge who would try his case.

  Liam wanted to punch the arrogant man in the face. Instead he smiled his cheeriest smile and exited the schoolhouse. He was anxious to get back to his office and finish that talk with a certain dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty.

  Faith had run out of things to do an hour ago. Hiram had gone home already, and Liam hadn’t returned from the hearing. She didn’t think it would be appropriate to leave so early. She pulled her satchel from beside her desk and rummaged through its contents. “Ah, there’s my sewing scissors. I really must put them back in my sewing kit before I lose them.” She pulled them from the bottom of the satchel and placed them inside the middle drawer of her desk. She was lucky she hadn’t pricked her finger on them already. Faith pulled her sketchpad and pencils from the satchel and began to draw. Her fingers pushed and pulled the pencils over the paper. Soon an image began to take shape.

  It was a scarf. An unusual pattern full of colors and shapes. Faith was certain she had never seen it before, and yet it came from somewhere deep down. The image was both familiar and troubling. It was as if this scarf was supposed to mean something to her. But as hard as she tried, she could never make sense of it.

  She scratched at the paper with her pencils. Fringe appeared on the scarf’s edges. Intricate embroidering adorned the filmy surface. Pearls and other precious stones danced on its surface, capturing the light.

  She had drawn this scarf a hundred times. And every time it was almost exactly the same. She tried to change the colors. The shapes. Even the fabric. But every time she was finished, the scarf turned out to be the same. What could it mean?

  “What have you got there?”

  Liam’s voice startled her. She had been so engrossed with her drawing she hadn’t heard him come in.

  “Nothing. I was just passing the time.” She gathered her pencils and flipped the cover over the picture and tried to shove them all into her center desk drawer. Liam stopped her.

  He pulled her desk drawer open, pulled out the pad, and laid it on the desk in front of them. Then he began to flip through the pages. Through her sketches. Through her private thoughts on paper.

  The first one was a picture of a window, lace curtains, and a moon. She cringed. But he didn’t seem to notice his face in the moon.

  He flipped another page. A picture of her three sisters laughing with Baby Abbie Rose. She loved the feelings elicited from that picture. Family. Love. Happiness.

  She watched Liam’s strong hands flip page after page. He stopped on the sketch of Hiram with his arm around Aggie, kissing her on the cheek. He never spoke but kept turning the pages until he came to one sketch in particular. It was a picture of him, hunched over his desk, an intent look of concentration on his face. She was so embarrassed to have been caught watching him while he was working. What on earth would he think? Could he guess her secret love for him? She hoped not.

  He finally turned to the next page. The picture of her puzzling scarf complete with exotic fringe and precious jewels. Very elegant and specific.

  “Wait a minute. I’ve seen a scarf like this once before. In a book, I think.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes. “I’m not comfortable sharing these with anyone.” She reached for the sketchpad, but he held tight, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  “Faith, your drawings are breathtaking. You have an amazing talent capturing the essence of your subject.”

  She broke contact with his too observant blue ey
es. She should be angry he’d seen her sketches. But there was a connection between her real self, the one she kept hidden from everyone, including her sisters, and this man she wanted so desperately to love her. Could she trust him with that part of herself? The protective shell covering her heart and soul had developed from years of abuse, much like the oyster she’d read about in Reverend Baker’s book protected itself. The mollusk covered a grain of sand with layers of nacre—also known as mother-of-pearl—the same mineral substance that made up the creature’s iridescent shell.

  She could not let anyone inside that protective shell. Especially Liam. She wouldn’t survive him pulling her in and then tossing her away. No, it would be better to love him in secret than to be devastated by his rejection.

  She shoved the sketches back into her desk drawer and closed it with resounding slam. That should make it clear enough she did not want him in her personal space.

  “Is there something I can do for you?”

  Liam hesitated. She could tell he wanted to see more of her work. Instead, he changed the subject.

  “Come into my office. Let’s finish our conversation.”

  “Of course.”

  Faith’s heart galloped in her chest, and she did her best to rein it in. Was he angry with her? The man was impossible to read. She followed Liam back into his office and sat in the chair his clients usually occupied across the desk from his. He surprised her when he sat in the chair next to her instead of his desk chair.

  “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

  “Like what?” Faith was genuinely surprised. She had nothing of importance or interest to share.

  “Let’s start with your life in the orphanage and what you remember.”

  “Okay, I suppose.” Faith was a little anxious about reliving those days. But if recounting those memories kept her in Liam’s company a little longer, then she would do her best.

  For the next hour, she and Liam talked about her life growing up in the orphanage, life in Rosie’s saloon after her and her sisters aged out of the orphanage, and everything else she could remember.

  “You’ve told me about your work in the saloon, but tell me what did you do for fun? Do you have any hobbies? Besides your sketches, of course.”

  “Fun?” Faith was at a loss to think of one single thing she or her sisters ever did for the sake of fun.

  “Well, we didn’t have much time for anything other than work. There just wasn’t any room for anything else.”

  “What about during your time at the orphanage? Did you play any games? What were your favorite toys?”

  Faith tried to think of something, anything she could share with Liam about her childhood. None of it was good.

  “Come now, surely you can think of something you enjoyed about your childhood.”

  The silence was deafening. The longer she remained silent, the more she was unable to think of a single thing to talk about.

  “Tell me about your earliest memory of being at the orphanage,” Liam coaxed.

  “I grew up in an orphanage in Kansas City. You already know that.” Why was she acting like such a twit?

  Liam grinned and twirled his pen between his fingers. “Yes, I do know that. Tell me about that experience.”

  “I—well, it was normal. I guess.”

  “Normal?”

  “It was all I knew so it just seemed normal. Eating with all the other kids in long rows of tables. Sleeping in rooms full of mattresses on the floor. Sharing responsibilities, you know, laundry, dishes, feeding the livestock. Cleaning up after the animals.” She shuddered at the memories.

  “Why does that memory make you uneasy?”

  She felt uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny and yet talking with him here, like this, felt as if they had done this very thing before.

  “Faith, why does that particular memory make you uncomfortable?”

  She hesitated for a moment longer and then the words just started to tumble out. “Sometimes, when it was my turn to clean up after the animals, some of the other kids—” She hesitated. Did she really want to share that part of her life?

  “Go on. What did the other kids do?”

  Faith looked at Liam, his blue eyes focused on her. It was as if he really wanted to know. Memories of the kiss they shared came unbidden into her mind. Her gaze dropped to his lips. She blushed. He had to know what she was thinking. But when she looked up, his expression was inquisitive. She did her best to relax and answer his question, pushing that kiss into the back of her mind to be savored later in the privacy of her bedroom.

  “Go on, Faith. What happened that seems to have upset you so? It can’t be that bad,” he said encouragingly.

  “Well, the other kids at the orphanage…would dump buckets of manure on top of my head.” She watched his face change from amused curiosity to stunned disbelief.

  “They dumped manure—”

  She gained courage from his shocked reaction.

  “Yes, they dumped every kind of manure on top of my head. Chicken. Goat. Cow.”

  “And why on earth did they do that?” He leaned forward. He seemed genuinely interested in knowing the answer but that could just be his lawyer side. Gathering facts. Taking notes.

  Should she tell him the truth? She wanted to trust him and something inside whispered. Take a chance. She took a deep breath for courage.

  “They dumped the buckets on my head because they said I was a dirty Indian and I would feel more at home wallowing in the filth and smelling like an animal.”

  The stunned look on his face was almost comical. His mouth opened and closed like a beached fish. His color went from pale to pink to a shade of red she wasn’t sure she had ever witnessed on someone’s face before. Perhaps it was his Irish heritage that caused his coloring to change so dramatically.

  “But you were a child. How could they—why would they—was no one there to protect you? Where was the headmaster? How could he let this kind of behavior go on?”

  ”Reverend Baker always came to my rescue, but it was after the deed was done. Once Grace, then Hope and Charity came along, the kids left me alone.”

  “Did they dump manure on these hateful children’s heads in retaliation?” Liam’s expression was full of compassion. It made Faith hopeful.

  “No. It was because Grace made them feel small when she chastised them. But it was Charity who made them pay dearly.”

  “I don’t doubt that statement for an instant. Charity is…what’s the word I’m looking for? Forthright. Direct, perhaps.”

  Faith couldn’t help herself. She laughed at the absurdity that was her sister Charity. “I think the word you are looking for is blunt. Or perhaps tactless. Maybe even outrageous.”

  Liam laughed with her. His deep tone created goosebumps pebbling all over her skin. Up her arms. Down her back. In places that were much to private to talk about.

  “I will probably be sorry I asked, but how did she convince the other kids to leave you alone?”

  “Well, if you really want to know—“ Faith teased.

  “I think I do. I may wish I could get the imagery out of my head after you tell me, but please proceed.”

  Liam grinned and the sight took her breath away. Somehow they had crossed the line from unintentional adversaries to easygoing—well, she couldn’t call him a friend yet. Associate might be an agreeable term.

  Faith laughed. Her breath hitched in her chest at the sight of Liam’s handsome face smiling at her. There was something more than humor in his look today. Momentarily speechless, she searched for the thread of their conversation before she had been distracted by the pull of Liam’s attraction.

  “Go on,” Liam urged. “Tell me what that red-headed firecracker did to instill fear into the hearts of innocent children.”

  She knew he was kidding her. And it felt wonderful.

  “Charity dumped that same manure into their pillowcases and between their sheets. Sometimes she even put it in their stockings an
d shoes.”

  Liam laughed out loud. “You can’t be serious. What on earth did they do? Did the other kids not know of Charity’s shenanigans?”

  He was still grinning ear to ear at Charity’s misdeeds.

  Faith couldn’t help herself. She was laughing right along with him. “Yes, they knew. But they could never prove it. I think Reverend Baker knew what she was about, but since he couldn’t seem to stop the children from torturing me, he decided to ignore Charity’s self-proclaimed avenging angel status. And when the other kids complained, he asked them why on earth anyone would want to treat them so unkind. They couldn’t very well admit they were misbehaving so it was an unresolved war until we finally aged out of the place.”

  They both gave a hearty laugh at the images her story brought to light. She realized Liam had stopped laughing at some point and was now gazing at her with an odd look on his face. She had gone too far. That’s what happened when she let her guard down. People judged and found her wanting.

  Suddenly she felt awkward. Self-conscience. Perhaps she should—

  Liam stood and she joined him, thinking their talk was over and he wanted to get back to work. Instead he moved closer. His gaze did funny things to her heart. He closed the gap between them. He was going to kiss her. Again. Her knees worked overtime to keep her standing. His hand moved to her face. She leaned in ever-so-slightly. She was certain of it. He. Was. Going. To. Kiss. Her.

  But just before their lips met, the front door of the office opened and closed. Liam called out to their visitor.

  “How can I help you—“ He met their visitor in the main room, nearly colliding at the door adjoining Liam’s office.

  Faith heard Billy Buchanan’s voice call out in response. “I was hoping Miss O’Malley was still here. I heard about her trouble yesterday and thought she might like to have a well-armed escort home this evening.”

  Faith rose and followed Liam into the front office.

  “Why, thank you very much, Billy. I appreciate your kindness.” It was the least she could do for the man who had gone out of his way to think of her well-being, but she had no intention of walking home with Billy Buchanan. Her heart was begging another gentleman to offer.