An Orphan’s Search for Truth (Preview)


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Prologue

The wind howled so fiercely, the woman pulled her coat around her neck and hunched her shoulders. She had to protect her baby. She was with her husband, a fine man, a good man, but they were in grave danger. They were both aware of this fact, and as a result, they were both hurrying. They moved with precision, almost as one. 

Debris from the tornado that had just ripped through the little town of Le Honore, New Mexico, was scattered all over the ground, stuck in trees that weren’t toppled over and lining the road on both sides. Rain beat down on their heads as they marched down the side of the road. All she could do was hope no one saw them or paid them any attention. 

Her husband’s grip on her hand reassured her some. He was a strong and courageous man. She loved him with every fiber of her being. The way she felt about her husband made it easier to cope with what they were going through.

The woman could see the railway ahead. That was all they needed to do. If they could get to the train station, they would be safe. 

But they would never really be safe, she knew. They would have to disappear. No one could ever know where they and their baby had gone. 

Her pregnancy had been unexpected, and it wasn’t the best timing, that was certain. The men after her and her husband were relentless and had been chasing them all over New Mexico. 

She didn’t know why the men were after them. But her husband knew, and she trusted him with her life. He was a big man, muscular, with dark brown hair and intense eyes. His grandfather was an Indian and his Native heritage showed. 

There was nothing about her husband that scared her, but he had scared their pursuers enough to make them want to kill all three of them. Those men weren’t about to listen to reason. 

She breathed easier as they got closer to the train station. Maybe they would get away without more than a scratch. Her baby pushed its little feet out, stretching her belly. She placed her hand over it and smiled. She couldn’t wait till the little fella came out. She had no definitive proof it would be a boy, but she felt deep in her heart that it was. 

She would do anything and everything in her power to protect that little unborn life. She was confident her husband felt the same way. He squeezed her hand, causing her to turn her eyes to meet his. Her heart skipped a beat and she thought about how handsome he was. She loved the way he looked at her. No matter how much time they had left, she wanted to spend it with him, right by his side. Even to death. That was what her vows had said—to death. 

“We will be all right,” he said, giving her hand another squeeze. “All three of us. I promise. One way or another.”

The woman felt sad. “But what kind of life are we giving our baby? He will have to travel with us, living on the run. I don’t know if I can subject him to that.”

Her husband flashed her a smile, one that she adored. She could see his love for her on his face and in his eyes and in that gorgeous grin. It always made her feel better. 

“Still insisting it’s a boy, are you?”

She couldn’t help it. 

The wind picked up again, and she felt like she was being pushed along the road. She didn’t mind, considering the wind was going in the same direction they were. But her bonnet had come off some time ago and her long blond hair whipped around her head like it had a life of its own. She could only imagine the state it would be in when they were finally inside. She would look a fright.

She held onto her belly, trying to take the pressure off her back. The other hand, clutched in her husband’s, helped keep her balanced despite the ferocity of the hard winds. 

“It’s going to start up again,” her husband yelled over the noise around them. “We have to get to the train station. Can you run any faster?”

“I don’t know,” she called out to him. “I’ll try.”

“Let me help you.” 

He put one strong arm around her waist and practically lifted her every few steps, so she was moving a lot faster than before. 

Through the wind and rain, she heard a sound that brought her heart almost to a stop. It was the sound of a deep voice, calling out in the midst of the storm. 

“Where ya goin’?” 

She knew that voice. It was the ringleader, the man who had started all the trouble. The man who wanted to wipe her husband’s existence off the face of the earth. 

He had almost caught up to them. 

Adrenaline shot through her when she looked up and into the eyes of her loving husband.

“We aren’t going to die here today,” he said in a voice that made her love him even more. “Come on.”

She used every last bit of her strength to run as fast and as hard as she could. She had to save her baby. No matter what. 

She had to save him. 

 

Chapter One

Twenty-two-year-old Max Carter used a cloth to wipe the dirty fingerprints from the railing as he went down the curving staircase in the orphanage. The headmistress was following behind him, pretending to check behind his work, though she really was only teasing him. She ran a finger along the railing and sucked her teeth, shaking her head. 

“I think you missed a spot,” she said, lighthearted. 

“I think you’re mistaken,” Max retorted in a cold voice, narrowing his eyes over his shoulder behind him. Nancy laughed. 

Walter was behind the headmistress and came down the stairs with their friend Lydia next to him. 

For over a decade, Max and Walter had been the best of friends. Max had been left at the orphanage when he was about three, and Walter was already there. Walter was just a year older. They were like brothers. 

“You layin’ down on the job again?” Walter asked, swiftly moving past Nancy so he could stand next to his friend. Max grinned. 

“I work smart, not hard. You wanna do the work? You do it, then. I’m doin’ just fine.”

He flapped the scrubbing cloth first at Walter, then the headmistress, then Lydia, who blanched, giggling. 

“It’s not playtime, young man. I don’t pay you to stand around and joke.”

Max tilted his head to the side, cocking out one elbow so she would take it. He then escorted her down the rest of the stairs like a proper lady. She took it, smiling. He moved her gently so that Lydia could take his other arm. There was just enough room for the three of them. Once Walter reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned around and eyed his friends. 

“Well, look at you bein’ all fancy. I can’t compete with that.” Walter shook his head, a mournful look on his face.

“There’s enough friendship between us all to go around, young man,” Nancy said in her wisest voice. “Are you boys working in the garden today?”

“That’s the plan,” Max returned. He slid his eyes to Walter. 

“Well, let’s get on with breakfast, then, so you can get to work.”

Lydia and Nancy left Max behind, hurrying forward to get to the dining room before the men. Max and Walter moved so they were walking side by side and Max leaned toward his friend, cupping his hand around his mouth but talking loud enough for the women ahead of them to hear.

“You reckon Paul’s already in there? He doin’ kitchen duty this week?”

Lydia, who was terribly fond of Paul, another seventeen-year-old in the house, spun around so her blond hair whipped over her shoulders and gave Max a narrow look. 

“Don’t tease, Max. It’s unkind,” Nancy scolded him, but he could see she was fighting a grin. She put her arm around Lydia’s shoulders and guided the young woman to turn back around and march toward the dining hall. 

There were already a bunch of kids in there, some of them up on their knees on the long benches that flanked each of the four lengthy tables that served the orphanage children breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Others hadn’t sat down yet and were chatting with friends far from their seat. A couple were sitting with their noses in books, virtually ignoring everyone else. 

Nancy clapped her hands together as soon as she stepped into the room. Nearly all the children turned to her and most of them went to their respective seats, while others tried to talk faster to finish what they were saying. Some put dogears in the pages of their books and slipped the books to the side or sat on them so they wouldn’t be forgotten or in the way.

“Good morning, children!” she called out. 

“Good morning, Miss Holliday!” all the children replied, whether they’d been talking a moment before or not. 

“Time to finish your conversations and settle down for our meal. What do you say?”

“Yes, Miss Holliday!” the children called again.

Max came in behind them and watched the chaotic scene before him with amusement. Three of the smaller kids refused to stop talking and go to their seats. Lydia and Nancy both had to shush them and usher them to where they were supposed to be. 

Max and Walter sat with the adults, of course. He still thought of it as the “adult” table because he’d grown up here in the orphanage. Once he and Walter became maintenance men there, they’d joined Nancy, the headmistress, Joyce and Valerie, the housekeepers, and Mary, the cook, who didn’t sit down until all the food was served. 

Every week, the servers changed. The children in the orphanage did the work on a rotation basis. This week, Olivia and Bernard, two twelve-year-olds with matching competition complexes, worked as servers, picking up one platter and serving the contents to the children by walking around the tables asking who wanted some. To minimize waste, the orphanage didn’t make plates for the children, attempting to force them to eat something they didn’t want. Instead, those who wanted to eat one thing but not another got it their way. 

Walter nudged Max’s arm. He was grinning boyishly when Max looked at him. Walter gestured with his head so Max would turn his eyes and look at the table closest to the adult table. Lydia was sitting there, blushing. The boy she was sweet on was seated across the table from her. 

Nancy ran the orphanage with efficient precision. Everything she did, every change she made, was done for a good reason. 

Max would miss it when he eventually had to leave. He’d rather just stay, if Nancy and the other administrators would let him. 

 

Chapter Two

Walter sat up in his bed, looking over at Max, who was fast asleep. He could only see his friend’s outline in the dim moonlight shining through the open curtains.

After dinner, they’d stayed up playing chess until Nancy told them it was getting late and they should head on up to their beds. They’d been in the sitting room, alone since all the kids had long since gone to sleep. 

Walter leaned in the darkness to feel for the candle in the holder beside his bed. He felt for the box of matches that sat next to it. After striking two matches, the first one going out when he accidentally breathed heavily onto it, he lit the candle. He looked over at the clock between his bed and Max’s. It was nearly two in the morning.

He swung his legs over and sat up, breathing in quietly and holding it for a moment. There was no reason for him to wake abruptly at two in the morning. Something was troubling him. What was it?

He hung his head, stretching his neck and flexing his shoulders. Pushing up to stand, he went to the window, carrying the candle in its holder with him. He stared out at the quiet night sky, watching what he assumed was an owl flying in front of the moon. 

He turned away from the window and when he did, his eyes settled on his desk. The reason for his unsettled feeling was sitting right there. The box Nancy had given him to keep the letters he received. He was one of the only children—though he was no longer a child—to receive letters. They had no return address and no signature to tell him who they were from. Oftentimes, they were only sketches of landscapes. 

He’d had an unsettling dream the night before where he was walking through the scenes displayed in the pictures. He hadn’t received one for several months, so why he’d dreamed about them was unclear.

 Walter didn’t know what to think of the letters. Who were they from? Why were they sending him these sketches, as if he would know what they meant or what to do with them? Were they special in some way? He guessed he should keep them all, which was why Nancy had given him the special box. He’d questioned her about them, but she knew nothing. 

He went to the desk and pulled out the chair, sitting down to stare at the box that contained all the pictures he’d received so far, as if it looked different somehow. When would he get another letter? Tomorrow? In a month? Next year?

So far, his life had been pretty uneventful. He’d grown up in the orphanage, having been dropped off there at the age of ten months, and no one had any knowledge of his background. No one he knew, anyway. 

He’d long ago accepted that his parents were either deceased or not worth finding. At twenty-four, he was comfortable and knew what it was like to be loved. He wasn’t bitter about being an orphan, left on the doorstep for Nancy Holliday to find. He was just glad he’d been placed in an orphanage that treated children with love and respect. 

Max snorted and grunted, turning over on his other side. Walter looked over at him, lifting the candle high up so he could see his friend better. Max settled back in and he lowered the candle, turning back to the desk and the box. 

After a few moments, Walter reached out and lifted the lid of the box, laying it back so the contents were exposed. A stack of letters and a few trinkets Walter had gathered over the years, memories he didn’t want to let go of. He pulled out a small leather bracelet one of the girls had fashioned for him when he was a boy. The girl who had made it and given it to him was gone, though. She’d been adopted into a family when she was twelve, years ago now. 

Walter hadn’t thought about Emily in a long time. He hoped she was happy and being treated with the love she deserved.

He picked up the bracelet and fingered it for a few moments before placing it back in the box. He stared at the stack of papers before lifting them out. They were bound together with a piece of string. He would need a longer piece of string if he kept getting more letters. 

It wasn’t until he forgot about the letters that another one came. Then he’d be reminded and open the letter to see another landscape picture, which he would add to the box and forget about. 

The box was sitting on the desk now because he’d received a letter only two weeks ago. He’d forgotten to return the box to the shelf in the large closet he shared with Max. 

He untied the string and removed the most recent letter from the top of the stack. He remembered the picture but wanted to look at it again. He’d been thinking lately that since he was older now, he might recognize some of the places in the pictures. Maybe they were sketches from right there in San Juan or the surrounding counties. 

Walter hadn’t done much traveling. He’d gone to the nearest towns and to the city of Albuquerque just once. He hadn’t thought about comparing the sketches to the sights he saw. It was too late now. He didn’t think he’d remember any of those places just by looking at a sketch. He hadn’t stayed long enough to really embed clear memories in his mind. 

He unfolded the paper and stared at the drawing. It was unfamiliar. 

Shaking his head, he felt a sudden drowsiness blanket him. It was time to get back to bed. He had work to do in the morning and no time to be tired while doing it. 

After tucking the stack of letters back in the box, he took it to the closet and slid it onto the shelf. He’d think about that another day.


My new novel “An Orphan’s Search for Truth” is coming soon! Stay tuned for the announcement!

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Percy is a man on the run, branded a traitor for deserting his army unit. But it’s not his former comrades he’s fleeing from—it’s his own tormented past. Haunted by war’s grim memories, he’s seeking solace and a way back home. Soon, he finds a hanged sheriff and a letter to his daughter, and his journey leads him to a hidden town, shackled under the rule of an unseen, malevolent force.

Will he escape war only to be thrown into a new relentless battle for justice?

Molly Speers, the iron-willed daughter of the town’s sheriff, is no stranger to hardship. Skilled in riding and shooting, she’s thrust into a fierce battle when her father is tragically killed. The town is under the ruthless control of the Sons of the South, a group refusing to accept the Confederacy’s defeat. Their tyrannical rule masks a sinister battle that could spell doom for all. Yet her encounter with Percy brings hope to her fight and heart…

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Fate intertwines Percy and Molly’s paths, forcing them to fight for their lives and their town’s freedom. As they confront the shadows threatening their future and find allies to accompany their quest, they must also confront their inner demons. Will Percy unravel the mystery behind the Sons’ control, or will the town remain in darkness? When all hope seems lost, can Percy and Molly find redemption among murder, love, and forgiveness?

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OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!

Grab my new series, "Grit and Glory on the Frontier", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!




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