She turned off the light on her bedside table and waited for her eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. There was only a sliver of moon hanging in the night sky. It gave the stars a chance to shine. The lights of Kansas City had snuffed out all but the most brilliant stars. But out here, in the mountains, the stars were at their most beautiful.
Faith lay in her bed, safe and warm, watching the breathtaking Colorado night sky through the lace curtains covering her window. A cool breeze puffed the curtains on occasion, and she could smell the scent of pine from the tree just outside her window.
She was so grateful to the Hanovers for their generosity. And her sister Grace for being so brave to venture into the unknown and find love with a total stranger.
And Rosie. She wondered where any of them would be if not for the tough, crusty bar owner who had suffered great losses of her own and yet still possessed a loving heart toward four misfits without a past or a future. Faith wondered if they would ever see her again, the woman they considered a mother. She hoped so. Maybe they could persuade her to sell her saloon in Kansas City and take over the Holy Moses. She’d heard the owner wanted to move to California where the winters were warmer.
Her thoughts always brought her back to her life before the orphanage. What was her real name? The one her parents gave her at birth? Was she a legitimate child of a loving couple? Or was she the throwaway burden of a woman compromised?
Did the beautiful scarf in her memory hold a connection to her past or was it simply a child’s attempt to create a meaningful memory of family? She often dreamt of a man with an English accent and a beautiful woman with flowing dark hair, much like her own. Was that her father and mother? If so, how had she come to be deposited at an orphanage in Kansas City?
It was all so confusing. She had given up long ago of finding her real family. But she still wondered who they were. What they were like. Where they lived. Why they didn’t they want her as their daughter.
Frustration and sadness always followed these types of thoughts. She needed to focus on the present and building a future out of what she had. Her life could have turned out so much worse without the people in it. She had no right to be ungrateful.
She snuggled into the warm depths of the goose down comforter and watched the night sky until her eyes grew heavy and she drifted deeper, closer to sleep. Somewhere between wakefulness and slumber, the familiar images of a handsome man and a beautiful dark-eyed woman drifted across her subconscious, the truth about who they were just out of her mind’s reach. Soon their images were replaced by the handsome Irishman with shining blue eyes.
21
Liam sat in the darkness of his house, sipping Irish whiskey and listening to the sounds of the night as the town of Creede slipped into a fitful slumber.
The clock chimed two in the morning before he finally forced himself to go to bed. He lay on his unmade bed and listened to the night noises. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a lone coyote baying into the darkness. And then all was quiet.
He knew what was wrong. Why he was so restless. Angry. Anxious. He just didn’t want to give the truth any room to grow because there could be no future for it. And yet—
He was attracted to Faith O’Malley. There was no denying that now. He’d been attracted to her all during the preparation of her trial. He thought it would pass. But it hadn’t. And the more he was around her, the more intense his feelings became. It had only been two days since she began working with him. Two. Days. How on earth was he going to survive the next year, knowing he had feelings for her and she was attracted to someone else?
There was no future for them. He could never commit to someone who was connected to the kind of people murdered innocent women and children. And not just vague, nameless people. His mother, Clarice. His father, Amos. His little sister, Mary, with her fiery red hair and freckles. He smiled to himself at the remembered sound of her laugh, so pure and clear. The kind of laugh he heard from Faith when Billy Buchanan—
He needed to distance himself from the dark-haired beauty. And yet, there was something about her that pulled him to her.
She had a presence about her that came from within. She had been brought up in the same orphanage as her three sisters. Grace and Hope were ladies, but they were normal women. Not like Charity. That woman was hell on wheels. He could understand why she turned out the way she did, having to fight and scrap against all odds. But Faith was different. Something just didn’t feel right. But what it was, he couldn’t say for sure.
Perhaps it would help him deal with his feelings for her if he could pinpoint what it was about her that was at odds with who she was. Or rather who she was supposed to be.
He lay in the dark, sifting through the facts of her life. When she arrived at the orphanage, she could already read. That would have been unusual for a child of her age. Four, five maybe. Only wealthy families could afford to hire nannies to teach their young children how to read. And then there was the scarf Faith sketched. It belonged to a royal Indian family closely associated with Queen Victoria of England. How could she possibly know about a scarf such as that? A book? Perhaps.
He remembered a book in his library regarding the great rebellion against British rule and the control of the East India Company. That was about 1857, if he remembered correctly. He rose and lit a lamp, making his way through his home to his makeshift library. He had transformed one of his three bedrooms into a home office and library within a week after he moved in.
He pulled the book he sought from the shelf and lit the lights over his desk. Flipping through the index, he found what he was looking for. Page 327-The Great Mutiny, A Misunderstanding between the British Army and its Indian subjects.
Liam thought it odd to label a mutiny killing hundreds, if not thousands, of Indian and British subjects alike as a misunderstanding. But that was the way of the historians. It depended on which side was winning and which side was penning the history lesson.
He flipped to the page and began to read about the uprising. It seemed the British Army misjudged the importance of their Indian soldiers’ beliefs. The army ordered cylindrical cardboard cartridges used for gunpowder and bullet in the new Enfield rifle, which were heavily greased with animal fat to facilitate loading into the muzzle. It was rumored among the sepoys, Indian soldiers serving under British authority, that the grease was a mixture of cow and pig fat.
Cows are sacred to the Hindus and pigs are abhorrent to the Muslims. Biting such a cartridge open to prepare for firing would break the caste of the Hindu sepoys and defile the Muslim soldiers.
Liam flipped through the pages about the mutiny and landed on the part he was looking for. Once the mutiny was in full force, a mob formed and overran European settlements, slaughtering anyone there. Whole families—men, women, children and even Indian servants—were killed on sight. The British responded in kind and soon the Queen’s regiments began a bloody campaign to reestablish control over the desperate situation.
Liam found two photographs in the book from the Library of Congress. One showing the massacre of English officers, their wives, and children at Jhansi. The other showing British retribution by tying mutineers to the front of cannons and shooting a cannon ball through them, effectively rendering them without hope for an afterlife.
Rubbing his tired, burning eyes, Liam pulled out a piece of Hanover-O’Brien Law Partner stationary and penned a letter to his friend from law school. Jack Patterson had recently procured a position at the office of the Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to the United States, Baron Lionel Sackville-West in Washington, D.C. If anyone could get the answers to his questions, Jack would have the connections to find the information Liam wanted to know. Of course, he knew it was a long shot, but that scarf in Faith’s sketchbook could be the key needed to connect Faith with her past. He wouldn’t say anything to her until he had proof. He didn’t want to get her hopes up and then disappoint her. It wouldn’t be fair.
Somewhere between three a.m.,
and morning light, he drifted off to sleep with the image of a dark-eyed beauty calling to him, urging him to come to her like a shimmering mermaid in the deep blue sea, wearing only a diaphanous scarf encrusted with sparkling precious jewels.
The clang of the milk wagon jarred him awake. Something had been within his grasp, a thought, a piece of information, but now it vanished in the mist of his dreams. Had he been dreaming or was his subconscious trying to show him something he had missed? Did it matter? Whatever was in his grasp was now gone. He needed to get up and get going. He had a lot of work to finish today.
Washed, shaved, and dressed, he closed his front door and headed the few blocks to his office. On his way, he stopped at the telegraph office to send his message to his friend. He paid the clerk and the man typed in his message.
“Let me know the minute you get a response. This is very important.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. O’Brien. The minute I get a reply.”
Satisfied, his long strides made quick work of the remaining two blocks to the office. He found Faith, alone, waiting on the bench out front, doing her best to be invisible to passersby.
“Faith? What are you doing sitting out here alone? Shouldn’t you go inside?”
“I would have, but the door is locked and I don’t have a key.”
Liam pulled his key ring out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Standing to the side, he ushered Faith inside. He followed.
“Where’s your escort? I’m surprised he left you alone to fend for yourself.” Liam cringed inwardly at the sarcastic tone of his comment. It was none of his damned business what went on between those two.
“I don’t think Mr. Buchanan will be escorting me to work anytime soon. That is, unless my sister is along for company.”
She removed her hat and shawl, and made her way to her desk in the corner. A ghost of a smile caught his attention.
“What do you mean unless your sister is along for company? Which sister?” He followed her into the library and tried to act nonchalant by leaning against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles, thumbs hooked into the front pocket of his trousers. But he was anything but relaxed.
He watched her settle, and then she laughed. That tinkling sound kicked him in the gut every time he heard it.
“Charity?”
She laughed again. Liam’s knees wobbled just a bit.
“Hardly. It’s Hope. Apparently I was only a ruse Mr. Buchanan used to get an invitation to the Hanovers’. He walked me home, but before I could bid him goodnight, Hope practically dragged him inside and the two were inseparable.
“Anyway, when Hiram came home last night, he took young Mr. Buchanan behind the closed doors of his library. If Hope’s assumptions are to be given any credibility, it appears those two have feelings for each other.”
“So you are saying Billy and your sister Hope are courting?”
“That’s what it looks like. Only time will tell, of course. By the way, what was it you needed last night? You came and left so quickly, and then when Mr. Hanover came home, you nearly ran him over on his own porch. Is someone in trouble?”
Liam’s heartbeat galloped in his chest at the news. He took a couple of deep breaths to slow it down to a fast trot. He couldn’t keep his thoughts from getting ahead of himself.
So Faith wasn’t interested in Billy. What did that mean? Liam was definitely attracted to her, but that didn’t mean she was interested in him.
Unless she was playing games with him, trying to catch herself a promising attorney for a husband.
He dismissed that argument immediately. You arrogant ass. She isn’t the calculating type. That was more Lavinia Markham’s tactics.
But what if he did make it known he was interested in her? And she returned his interest. Could he let go of his past long enough to fully assess the present and allow the possibility of a workable solution for a promising future?
“Liam? You have such a strange look on your face. Is someone in trouble?“
He looked into the compassionate dark eyes of the beauty sitting in front of him, concern etched across her face.
He grinned and then composed himself.
“Yes, Faith. I’m afraid someone is in very deep trouble.”
22
Faith wasn’t certain what had caused the change in Liam’s demeanor from yesterday, but if his quest to help whoever was in very deep trouble was responsible, she would do whatever she could to help as well.
He hadn’t been very forthcoming about the details of who needed help, but she hadn’t pushed for information after he told her it was attorney and client privilege and he wasn’t at liberty to share.
Liam moved his papers into the library and suggested they both work at the massive table so they could spread out their work.
Faith didn’t mind at all. This was the side of Liam she knew from her trial preparations. And yet there was a connection that hadn’t been present during those dark days.
Hiram came in a little after ten o’clock. Faith saw him do a little bit of a double take when he first entered the library and saw them working together.
She would give Mr. Hanover credit. The man was a master at maintaining his poker face to hide what he was really thinking.
“Hello, colleagues. I’m rushing off to a hearing regarding the chicken house mishap. Mrs. Benson is accusing her husband’s nephew of leaving the henhouse gate unlocked and their coon hound cleaned out Mrs. Benson’s prize laying hens. Then I’m headed home after the hearing to spend time with Aggie in the garden. Is there anything you need of me before I go?”
Liam answered for them both. “No, we are working on research. We should be here the rest of the afternoon in case a client should walk in. Have a good day, Hiram. You and Aggie deserve some time to yourself.”
Faith laughed. “I don’t know how much time to themselves they will get with Hope and Charity underfoot. But good luck all the same, Mr. Hanover.”
She was certain he was secretly pleased she and Liam were working so well together. She wondered how he would feel if they became more than—
Stop it. She knew what happened when she let her guard down. “Trouble always follows.”
Liam looked up at her, a puzzled look on his face. “What trouble? Follows what?”
She couldn’t believe she said that aloud. At a loss for how to respond, she sat frozen in her chair.
“What are you reading?” He turned the reference book around and searched the page for something to connect with her outburst. Liam read the passages on the page and then turned the book back around.
“I agree. Trouble always does follow when one person, or race of people, mistreat another.”
She had no idea what was on the pages so she turned her attention to the book to determine what it was he agreed with.
“eminent domain?” she probed. So this was to be the accidental subject of this bizarre conversation.
“There’s never any good way to depose someone of something they don’t want to lose. Sometimes it is something that happens for the good of the whole. But sometimes it happens for the sake of greed. And then people get hurt. And you are right, trouble follows.”
Faith scanned the content of the law book. Eminent domain.
“Is this the reason there is so much animosity between the Indians and the white man? The government took what was theirs and gave it to someone else? No wonder they are so mad.” It suddenly dawned on Faith what she was saying.
“Liam, I didn’t mean—what I’m trying to say is there is no reason on this earth why anyone should resort to killing innocent women or children. On either side.”
Liam sat very still, and Faith was terrified she had ruined their new friendship. Should she try to say something to fix this or should she just keep her mouth shut? The quiet was deafening. She took a breath for courage.
“Liam. Please look at me. Let me explain.”
He turned to her but said nothing.
“I have never been close to an Indi
an. I have lived in the shadow of white folks for as long as I can remember. So I have no experience with what I’m about to say. Only a gut feeling.”
She met Liam’s ice-blue eyes.
“I lived under the scrutiny of people all my life. People who are not like me. I’ve tried as hard as I could not to make trouble. To not call attention to myself. To be good and follow the rules. But even when I did my very best, there was always someone who found fault with me. Someone who considered me beneath them.”
“I’ve never—“
“No, hear me out. Please.” Faith stood and paced around the room, trying to find just the right words to explain how she felt while not turning Liam against her.
“I’m not a woman. Not really. At least, most people don’t see me as a woman.”
She watched his eyes cloud with confusion. “Well, of course, you are a woman—”
“No. I’m different, Liam. And please don’t embarrass us both by claiming you hadn’t noticed. I don’t receive the same courtesies as other women. When people look at me, they see an animal. Something…not human.”
Tears stung behind her eyelids, but she had to keep going. She had to know where Liam stood.
She watched him sitting next to her, studying the law book in front of him but knowing he wasn’t seeing the words on the page.
Would he deny how he saw her? Moments passed. Embarrassing, humiliating moments. Finally he raised his gaze to hers, his clear blue eyes probing deep into her soul.
“I can’t say when I first met you I didn’t have moments of anger when I looked at you. You reminded me of something I would rather forget. But couldn’t. I’ll admit I had a lot of anger toward a people who caused me great pain. I’ll also admit I wanted to hate you. I wanted to make you suffer for what your people did to my family. But Faith, hear me. Not even on my worst days did I see you as capable of such atrocities.”
The adrenaline of the moment had loosened her tongue. “Are you certain about that? Can you, in all honesty, say you have never thought of me as a heathen? Someone less than yourself? Have you ever thought of me as just a woman of flesh and blood? Have you ever thought of me without seeing the people who murdered your family?”
Faith Page 13