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

by Amy Field

  Faith held the box out to Missy in the bedroom and watched as the little girl tore at the wrapper. She pulled the lid up to reveal the dark blue dress with white lace and matching bonnet.

  “Do you like it?” Faith held her breath waiting for the answer.

  “It’s the prettiest thing I ever saw. It’s mine?” Her little eyes were hopeful as she looked up at her.

  “Yes. I thought maybe you could wear it tomorrow,” Faith said softly.

  The little girl didn’t’ say anything just nodded. A second later she threw herself at Faith and hugged her tightly. “Thanks Ma,” her voice was full of love.

  “Your welcome honey. Now let’s get everything ready. My family should be here soon,” She said.

  The next day was beautiful. The house was decorated with wildflowers just as the barn was and Faith’s family were all there, as well as Rosie and Sam and about 40 other members of the town and surrounding farms. There was a huge table full of food laid out and there were tons of guitars and musical instruments for entertainment. The night before had been spent with lots of laughs and conversation after her family arrived. Missy had instantly fallen for the baby. Josiah was perfect in every way and she had told everyone that she was gong to be a big sister by next year. She said that Faith had said she would have lots of brothers and sisters which caused Faith to blush and everyone else to laugh.

  Faith watched the way that Elijah was with the baby as well and knew that he was the man that she wanted. He was kind and gentle and she knew that she had fallen in love with him. The day finally came when she would be his wife. That day was today. She looked over at Missy in her blue dress and was amazed at how beautiful the little girl was.

  “You look beautiful Ma,” she said in awe as she looked at Faith in her white gown. Her hair was left down to lay in waves down her back to her waist. She knew that Elijah had never seen her with her hair down and she hoped he liked it.

  “Not as beautiful as you my dear. Shall we?” She held out her hand to Missy, who took it in hers. Together they made their way to the door of the barn where her sisters stood and her father. She smiled down at Missy and nodded her head. The doors opened, and Missy led them all down until they were at the other side. Elijah stood there and his eyes widened in surprise as he watched his daughter. His eyes looked nervously around until he saw Faith. His eyes stayed glued to hers through the whole ceremony. Both of them were mesmerized by each other through the whole ceremony.

  They were eating together when Rosie came over to kiss Faith’s cheek, “Told you I would kiss you if you got Missy into a dress,” she laughed as she walked away. Turning, she looked over at Elijah beside her. His hand was still holding hers, which he brought to his lips.

  “I love you, Elijah,” she said softly.

  “And I love you Faith,’ she felt his lips brush hers softly. It was the best day of her life. She knew that her life would be happier now and forever.

  THE END

  A SELECTION OF STORIES FROM THE ROMANCE READING ROOM LIBRARY

  For you to discover!

  Book I

  Fallen

  A Sports Romance

  Chapter 1

  Despite her opulent surroundings, Katie Cory woke up feeling rather ordinary. The bed was soft, the pillows and linens plush, and the room itself luxuriously appointed, but as Katie rubbed the grist from her eyes and stumbled to the bathroom she couldn’t help but feel agonizingly, hopelessly, ordinary. She caught sight of herself in the mirror before sitting on the stool. Her pyjamas might be more expensive than they once were, but with her skin blotchy from the bed, eyes bleary from the night, and her hair tousled from sleep, she could just has easily have been the same quiet little kid from Kansas City she’d been when this all started.

  Her dad had made his money in the oil business, owning about half the gas stations between Chicago and Denver. He’d grown up on a farm, however, and while he certainly wanted to provide Katie with opportunities he’d never had, he never wanted her to feel privileged. She went to the best of schools, took dancing and riding and singing lessons, but they lived in a relatively modest house, drove lightly used cars, and each member of the family always had chores to do.

  Growing up it had driven her nuts. Because of the schools she went to her friends were always out doing things, going on expensive trips, meeting famous people, and spending the money their families earned or managed as quickly as they could get it. Katie felt caught between two worlds: was she wealthy, or was she poor? Did she have to work for a living, or would things simply be handed to her? And if life wasn’t all parties and playing, how did you decide what to do with yourself, even just day-to-day, let alone for a lifetime?

  All of that changed the first time she’d slipped on a pair of skates. They’d been picking her brother, Steve, up from hockey practice and her mom had to stay for some kind of a meeting with the booster club, so she sat in the stands reading while the parents had their meeting and the boys hit the showers. The coach, however, saw her sitting up there and called her down to the ice. When he asked her if she’d ever skated before she admitted that she hadn’t, and so he disappeared for a couple of minutes into a storage locker and returned with a pair of skates. They fit like a glove and gave her an almost superhuman ability to glide on the ice. By the time the moms were done with their meeting, Katie was zipping to and fro across the rink and the boys, who were all two or three years older than her, had their faces pressed to the glass in awe. She was simply a natural, and that natural gift was a great joy to watch.

  Katie had wanted to play hockey like her brother, but her mother wouldn’t hear of it. Her dad, as always, had struck a compromise by signing her up for figure skating lessons, but it wasn’t long before it was clear that speed skating was where her talents could be put to best use. Though twelve when she started, she had caught up to other kids her age within a year, most of whom had been skating since before they could walk, and by the time she started high school already had two district titles under her belt, plus a silver from the last national competition.

  This is how she came to be running the water for her shower in the Palace Hotel along the Las Vegas Strip. This was the third year in a row that she’d taken the World Speed Skating Championships, and after last night’s award ceremony she knew today would be filled with interviews, meet-and-greets, and lots, and lots of photos. She groaned as she looked into the mirror on the vanity. “Gameface, Kid,” she told herself. “You don’t want to get tweeted looking like a drowned rat.”

  The sound of a door knocking shook her out of her stupor. She threw on a robe from the bathroom door and walked through the suite and to the door leading to the hallway. She knew before opening who would be waiting for her.

  “Mornin’, Kat!” It was her manager, Pete. He called out brightly, handing her a plastic cup with a domed top. She could tell from the smell it was wheatgrass, spinach, and some kind of citrus fruit. She wrinkled her nose.

  “I’m not competing today, Pete.” She turned from the door and let him follow. “In fact, I was just about to hop in the shower.”

  “Sure, sure,” he said absently, making a beeline for the ottoman upon which sat the remote for the 55-inch television mounted on the far wall. He powered up the set and switched immediately to ESPN-4, where they could seem crowds already gathering for the press conference they’d shortly be attending.

  Under different circumstances it might have bothered her that a grown man with whom she was not involved felt comfortable barging into her private space and hanging out while she bathed. Pete, however, was as safe as they came. He had been her manager since she was fourteen and while there were certainly times in there that she’d been angry with him, he’d never once made her feel uncomfortable. When she was younger she and the other girls used to gossip about whether or not he was gay. Plenty of guys in the skating world are, but Katie had come to the conclusion that he was just disinterested—not in her in particular, but in people in general, at
least vis-à-vis sex and relationships. Poor Pete simply lived and breathed skating.

  He glanced briefly at a clock on the wall that was mostly ornamental. “Better get a move on, Kat,” he said. “We don’t want to be late for your interview.”

  She mumbled something under her breath as she returned to the bathroom. Slipping out of her robe she hooked it onto the back of the door and stepped gingerly into the now steaming shower, leaving the bathroom door open in case Pete decided to talk. He usually did, eventually.

  As she stepped into the tub her left foot started to go out from underneath her. Instinctively she tried to right herself by bracing her hands against the wall and the door of the tub, but the pressure simply pushed the door out and she went down. Fortunately, her instincts kicked in and she managed to simply do the splits, hitting herself hard against the floor and then bouncing up again. She rubbed the inside of her leg gingerly. She was flexible enough to make a move like that work, but she would have stretched first if she knew her shower was going to be so athletic.

  Pete apparently heard the thud. “You alright in there?”

  “I am,” she said, a little two cheerily. “Tub’s just slick, nearly fell.”

  “Careful,” he said, with a warning voice. “You don’t want to show up with an injury they didn’t see happen.”

  She sighed to herself as the water cascaded down her body and massaged her poor, tired muscles. He was right, of course. People presumed you were faking if they didn’t actually see the injury happen, which weirdly meant if you were a professional athlete you were supposed to be immune from falling down stairs and slipping in the shower.

  She opted against washing her hair, which meant that her shower took less than five minutes. When she was done she stepped out a little more carefully than usual, dried herself, and then wiped the mirror free of the fog so that she could see what she was doing as she prepared for the day. The shower had helped, but she’d still need a little makeup. She never wore much, but just enough to cover the worry lines and signs of the unending stress which marked her life. Her left thigh throbbed from her impromptu gymnastics I the shower and she wondered, just for a minute, how her life might have changed if she really had hurt herself. What kind of support would she get if she couldn’t skate anymore? Would Pete still be there to help her? How would her family treat her? And what would she do with her time?

  She pushed the thought away as she wrapped the towel casually around herself and walked back to the bedroom. Leaving the door still slightly ajar so that she could hear if Pete thought of something he needed to say, she let the towel drop and started fishing in her suitcase for the outfit they’d decided on for her interviews. As she slipped into the sleek warmup outfit she surveyed her body in the mirror and smiled to herself.

  Katie was not a small girl. She was raw boned and thick, with muscular tights, broad shoulders, and big arms. Even still, there was nothing mannish about her; those broad shoulders gave way to full, shapely breasts, which themselves flared out into wide, but not heavy hips. All of this was settled onto a frame that pushed five-nine. That made her a full three inches taller than her hero, Bonnie Blair, and the tallest female competitive speed skater in the world. She was also presently the eldest. Over the years, though, Katie had learned to use her height to her advantage and though she had more weight to move than most of her competitors, she also had more muscle with which to move it. She could live with only occasional boyfriends if it meant that she was able to devote herself entirely to her craft, and besides, most of the men she’d dated had only been interested in her for her fame, or for her body.

  Apart from her dad and her brother, most men in her life had simply not been worth the time. A few of her brothers’ hockey friends pursued her as she got older, but they weren’t good for much more than a quick grope in the backseat of a car and the occasional date to a dance or party. Once she started skating competitively a few of her fellow skaters had approached her, but most were intimidated, both by her size and her confidence. But she didn’t care, most of these guys, who were literally at the top of their game, were basically insecure boys. She wanted a man.

  As she dressed, Katie dreamed of the kind of man she’d finally be happy with, and she knew she wasn’t likely to meet him at a competition or in one of the expensive clubs or bars where they tended to host parties following tournaments. He’d be off following his own dreams and succeeding at what he loved. Like her dad, he’d be strong and hard-working, which meant that it would be hard to find him anyplace she was likely to be. She shook her head again and pushed away the thought as she zipped up the jacket of her outfit. For now, she could be satisfied with the all-too-occasional fling, but the emptiness of the whole situation was rotting her soul.

  “All set?” Pete startled her out of her musing. He was standing in the door with both smoothies again, sucking on his till she could hear it gurgle.

  “All set,” she affirmed, grabbing the cup and following him out the door and towards the hallway.

  Pete drilled her as they wandered down the hallway towards the elevator, and then eventually to the car which was waiting.

  “You have your answers prepped?”

  “I do.”

  “And how’d you manage your third consecutive national championship, despite being older than the rest of the competition?”

  “I worked harder and trained longer than I ever have before.”

  “And next year’s Olympics?”

  “Will be the best opportunity for me to show the world what an all-American girl can do when she sets her mind to it.”

  He smiled, opening the door to the limousine. “Yes, it will.” He closed as she entered, then ran around and got in the opposite side. “You’ve got this. Nervous at all?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Good, no need to be.” He tapped on the glass to let the driver know they were ready to go. Then, leaning forward on his knees he took her hands and said, “Katie, we did it. Three consecutive championships. Nobody’s ever done it before. Now all we need is that gold next year in…”

  But she’d already started to zone out. While she appreciated all of his help, one thing Katie couldn’t stand was other people talking credit for her accomplishments. Pete had not won a world championship, she had. The first time she’d been elated; the second mildly excited. Today she just felt non-plussed; there was no positive feeling, and no negative feeling either, exactly—just nothing.

  “Katie? Katie?” Pete snapped annoyingly at her. “Have you decided on what you’re doing?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “To celebrate. People will want to know. Are you spending another week in Cozumel?”

  She shook her head ruefully. The Cozumel trip had happened as part of an advertising deal with a shoe company. It had turned into a three week hangover. When she returned her times were the worst they’d been since high school.

  “No, not Cozumel.”

  “Ibiza, then?”

  She shook her head. “No, I was thinking more…” But before she got the chance to finish her sentence, the car came to a halt and the driver excited the limo in order to open the door for them.

  “Well,” Pete said, getting himself out and then reaching back for Katie. “Figure it out. You’ll likely be asked a dozen times today.”

  Katie nodded absently as she exited and immediately the flashes began. Like it or not, she was now “on” for the rest of the day. And she immediately began looking forward to getting back to bed.

  Reporters peppered her with questions as Pete made a way through the crowd for them. Katie’s parent’s, Ron and Debbie, met them at the door of the building and together they made their way through the crowded hallway and into the press room. A lectern had been set out on the stage and the two runners-up were already seated there in track suits similar to hers. A pair of skates had been set up on the table at which the coaches were sitting, and reporters already occupied all of the seats which were neatly lined in ro
ws.

  Applause followed Katie as she approached and everyone on stage rose as she stepped up onto the platform. Even the two girls she’d beaten seemed to be smiling genuinely at her, but Katie knew that it was an act. All of these people were walking clichés and she was growing tired of it.

  The formal portion of the press conference lasted just over seven minutes. Pete gave a short speech and then invited Katie to read her prepared statement. Afterwards the two of them fielded questions, mostly about technique and training. One slightly ditzy reporter actually asked something about how Katie kept so much body in her hair. She replied with a joke which she’d only half-thought out, but it got the required response. One hand remained raised towards the back of the room. A small, thin reporter in a sweater vest and wearing large coke-bottle glasses stood up.

  “Given you newfound success and the time you’ve got between now and next year’s competition, what are you planning on doing to celebrate?”

  Katie chuckled to herself. She’d thought long and hard about this, and she knew it was going to raise some eyebrows, plus incur Pete’s wrath. Even still, she knew in her gut it was worth it.

  “Thanks for the question, Rob.” She made a point of memorizing the names of any journalist who was around more than once. They all knew her name, and she knew it threw them off if she could call them by theirs. “I do have some time before training begins in the fall. So, having missed most of my twenties due to skating…I’ve decided to take a break. I’m going backpacking—like serious backpacking, with a guide and everything. And I plan to return better, stronger, and braver than ever before to best represent the US on the national stage. Because the next time I win a gold medal,” She fingered the medallion around her neck. “It’s going to be for real.”