Mail Order Brides & Babies for The Lonely Indians (A Western Romance Book)

By Faye Sonja

Three inspirational stories of women who risked everything for love and traveled thousands of miles to the western frontier.

Part 1: The Indian's 'Blind' Bride's & The Fostered Indian Baby

A mail-order-bride wagon is heading to Salt Lake City, but one bride aboard the horse drawn wagon is not looking for love...  

Jane Morgan is beautiful and young, but has a condition that makes it hard to make lasting connections with people. Face Blindness.

She can't recognize ANYONE: not family, not friends, and not even herself when she looks in the mirror…

Part 2: The Indian's Unwanted Bride & Her Baby

Naomi has finally done it. Breaking off ties with her past, she packs up her things, her baby, and heads to Salt Lake City with hopes of finding a decent man who will be kind to her.

However, who she ends up with will send this mother on an all too familiar emotional upheaval. An Indian chief.

Part 3: The Feisty & Young Indian Bride

Kai is the daughter of the Indian chief and knows her role is to marry well, yet after watching her brothers become happily married to two mail-order brides, Kai wishes more than anything to have a love of her own- True Love.

3 parts of heartwarming mail order brides tales of love, romance, and triumph over adversity in one book.

Love on the western frontier was a rare treasure. Follow these inspirational women who risked everything to travel to the untamed West in the hopes of finding love and starting a new family.

If you're a fan of clean western romance, you will love this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Faye Sonja
• Release date: Feb 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393853848

Faye Sonja

Faye Sonja is a multi-voiced writer who aspires to use different voices in telling her stories, seeing characters coming alive through the multi-faceted writing styles give her great satisfaction. As a young girl, Faye Sonja has been fascinated with stories of the Old West, especially the theme of Mail Order Bride where a woman will find the courage to leave her homeland, take the plunge to seek out the love of her life out there in the unknown land. Such an act requires bravery, such an act requires faith. It takes a woman with strong Christian faith to step out on such a pursuit for her love. It is Faye's desire that readers will once again have the courage to believe in love again from reading her books, to be inspired through the characters in her story who through perseverance, in the face of obstacles, overcame the hurdles using that simple faith and belief of theirs. 

Book preview

PART 1

The Indian’s ‘Blind’ Bride’s & The Fostered Indian Baby

1

*   *   *

TENNESSEE

March 1856

Jane Morgan was shocked out of her slumber by a loud clap of thunder. Rain fell hard, beating against the small glass window that occupied the shack’s small kitchen. She shot right up in her pallet and peered around in the darkness, not seeing anything, but almost sure that something besides the weather had woken her up. Then she heard it. A low moan, like that of a wounded animal. It came from outside.

Getting up, she grabbed her coat, and moved silently towards the door. She didn’t want to wake her father, Walter, who slept on a pallet in the living room. Though, how anyone could sleep through this storm was a wonder to her. There were no bedrooms in their house—if one could call the four walls and leaky roof a house. The Morgan’s were poor, had been for all of Jane’s twenty-three years. She’d watched her father try his hand at many professions, seeking his fortune in gambling halls, shady businesses, and the like. But Walter’s latest try for success was proving even less fruitful. He was starting a farm.

The thunder cracked again and Jane rushed out of the house, closing the door behind her as she moved. She heard the moaning again and followed the noise. She believed it to be a horse, but didn’t understand why a horse would be on their land. The Morgan’s had no animals, and with the lack of funds, neither did they have any field hands—except for Doli. She was a native captive that had been sold to her father with the promise of free labor.

Jane detested slavery and hadn’t understood why her father would spend money on one now when the war seemed to be moving in favor of the Union. Slavery would be abolished and they’d be back to square one.

Following the sounds that managed to cut through the rain and wind, Jane moved towards the noise and then paused when she saw what was there. It wasn’t an animal. It was a human being. Kneeling down by the woman, Jane asked, Are you all right?

The woman was badly beaten. Black bruises and blood marred her face in the glow of the lightning. Jane. The woman knew her name. Her voice was deep and like that of one who’s spent much time around a campfire or bonfire. That alone told Jane her identity since Jane would’ve never remembered her face—bruises or not.

Jane tested the name, just to make sure. Doli?

Jane, came the reply. Doli’s black hair was stuck to her bloody face, plastered there by the rain.

Jane swallowed. This was normally the time she’d go out of her way to explain the reason she never remembered someone’s face, but now was not the time. Instead, she asked, What happened to you? Her voice came out shaky as she lightly laid a hand on Doli’s body. She was trembling—and not because of the cold. She feared Doli’s answer. Who did this to you?

Doli whispered, Your father.

Lightning flashed and thunder made the earth shake once more.

Jane began to cry. She didn’t want to believe that her father was capable of this, but she’d known it was only a matter of time before his anger got the best of him. Walter had been on a slow, but steady decline for the last few months. That was when Jane had known she’d have to leave. She’d been grateful, for years, that her father had never kicked her out. She’d known he couldn’t afford to feed both of them, and while her inability to remember what people looked like drove him mad, he’d let her stay. Jane had always struggled with faces. On more than one occasion it had ruined one of her father’s deals. He’d give her money and tell her to go find a certain someone, but Jane wouldn’t remember their face—even if she’d met them less than an hour before. It was the most frustrating experience, yet not once had her father lifted his hand to her. Then, a few months ago, Jane had angered him when he’d sent her out to deliver a message to one of his friends. Jane had heard the friend’s voice many times before and would have easily been able to identify him had he been alone, but she’d been informed that he was at a bar and Jane had been unable to find him in the crowd. Her father had been furious with the undelivered message and had grabbed her arm tightly, leaving marks. That had been enough for Jane to realize she’d have to leave. Through a mail-order-bride service she’d found a man willing to take her in. She wasn’t supposed to depart until the following month, but it looked like Jane would be leaving early.

Doli whispered, Take my son.

Jane thought she’d misheard Doli and shouted through the rain, What did you say?

My son, Sani, she whispered. Take him. And then she turned her head and said no more.

Jane shook her. Doli? Doli, wake up! She pushed and pulled her limbs, but Doli didn’t move. Standing up and stepping away, Jane covered her mouth to stop from screaming. Her father had killed someone. Her tears blinded her along with the pouring rain.

Looking towards the shack, fear gripped her as she stared at the shadows. She saw no movement, but if Doli was out here freshly beaten to death, then Jane doubted that her father was sleeping. Was he in the shack? Had she passed him, sitting in the dark, when she’d come outside? Was he on the property? She wouldn’t take any chances of being next now that she knew what her father was capable of. She couldn’t go back inside either and what’s worst, if he found her, she wouldn’t even recognize who he was. She had to leave. Now.

Feeling for her coat, she thanked God that the coins she’d been saving for the journey west were still there. She’d have to move fast.

Going to a small mud house that Doli had created for herself months before when she’d come to them, Jane went inside and felt for the baby. Finding Sani’s small warm body, she wrapped the boy deep into her coat and ran. Her plan was to head to town and catch one of the wagon trains that were always heading west. Her destination. Utah.

*   *   *

2

*   *   *

Tahoma sat high in a tree watching down below as his father was talking with one of the local white men. His father, Chief Gadgii, laughed at something the white man said before shaking his hand and giving him a bag full of herbs in exchange for coins. The white man bowed respectfully in thanks and then departed. 

A few minutes later, Tahoma made an owl call that rang through the trees before dropping down to the ground. Leaves and grass made a soft bed for his landing—as well as the other twenty men who’d been up in the trees with him. The sound of them hitting the ground followed in his pattern before all the men stood and came together.

Chief Gadgii moved his head towards his son; his long black and white feather following his movement. He frowned at them all. The warriors stood tall, fit, and armed with various weapons, ready to kill if need be. Gadgii sighed. You all were unnecessary. I was in no danger. His brown skin held the lines of age, but his dark eyes held great strength.

Tahoma walked up to his father and lifted a dark brow. The warriors are to protect their chief, plus these are uneasy times. Foreign scouts were spotted spying on us two months ago. The scouts had made Tahoma uneasy and since then, he’d volunteered to be part of the night watch.

Gadgii shook his head. The long black hair that fell over his shoulders, slid across the blanket of earth colors he wore. Red, black, blue, and white made up the triangular design patterned over his back. The warriors are not needed with every purchase and we send our own scouts out. It does not mean we mean any harm. Lifting a hand, he dismissed the guards, but didn’t let his son leave. Walk with me, he said, before turning away.

Tahoma frowned, but did as his father wished.

It was early morning. The air was still cool in the mountains. Grass, trees, and water were plenty here—along with the trout. The spot was coveted by other tribes, Mexicans, and some of the local white men, but through negotiations, Chief Gadgii had managed to not only find peace, but to keep his lands, continue their trade, and gain the protection of the white men who lived below the mountain. Gadgii was wise, which was why, besides Gadgii’s position in the tribe and the fact that he was his father, Tahoma listened to him.

Some of the village was up as they walked further into the campsite. Women worked on upright looms, weaving blankets that would sell well come winter. A few of the men began to head towards the bottom of the mountain to join in the mining efforts while other men and women built a fire for the first meal of the day.

They passed many hogans, houses built with wood and then laid over with mug. The homes were broken into sections for families. Some men chose to take more than one wife, and so would require more than one hogan. Then another hogan would be built to keep the families supplies, like a closet of sorts.

They made their way to Gadgii’s hogan, which was larger than the rest of them and set in the center of the community, along with some of the gathering locations. Gadgii began to speak as soon as they both were inside, Why do you insist on treating our friends like enemies? The chief took a seat in the back. It was an upholstered chair, one of the many gifts Gadgii had received from the locals.

Tahoma’s gaze leveled on his father as he spoke, Because, if trade is a necessity for their friendship, then it is not a friendship at all.

Gadgii narrowed his eyes. All friendships work best when both parties receive mutual satisfaction from it.

Tahoma took a seat on the blanketed floor and crossed his legs. I said ‘necessity’. True friendship doesn’t ask for something in return. It is given without exchange. It should be up to the receiving party to show thanks by returning the favor.

Gadgii chuckled, resting an elbow on the arm chair as he looked down at his son. Tahoma was twenty-seven, but spoke like he was much older—which, admittedly, pleased his father. But, Tahoma still had much to learn. Life should be balanced in all things, Tahoma. Working with the locals has benefited us tremendously, just as much as it has benefited them—

Until they betray us, Tahoma cut in. His golden eyes were like pits full of fire, ready to fight. With an arrogant jawline and skin the color of rich earth, Tahoma was handsome, strong, yet so consumed in his hate and anger. Tahoma led the warriors in the tribe, protecting their lands, and making sure that there was peace within itself. He was a good leader, but Gadgii feared that if Tahoma didn’t find peace soon, he would have no choice but to pass his position down to his younger son, Yas—which, with Yas’s wild ways, wasn’t a good solution.

But Tahoma’s hate for the white locals didn’t come out of nowhere. When he was ten, he’d been present during a raid in the village. Gadgii had been working on negotiations with the Mexicans when they’d attacked. Young women and men had been kidnapped to become slaves while some of those who’d fought back were killed. Tahoma’s friends had been in the group that was kidnapped. The white men who’d done the job were gone now, killed by a gathering of all the tribes around the area, but the children were never found and Tahoma hadn’t trusted much of anyone from that day forward—especially not outsiders.

Gadgii sighed. Tahoma, you know what you need?

Tahoma’s nostrils flared. I don’t need—

A wife, both men said at the same time.

A new voice joined the conversation. Gadgii’s entire day brightened at seeing her enter. It was his wife, Lina.

She smiled at him. What’s this I hear about a wife? she asked before taking the seat next to her husband. She wore her long hair pulled back from her face. A silver and blue gem necklace that Gadgii had crafted for her sat around her neck. She never took it off. She smiled at Gadgii, her hazel eyes bright with love before turning to their headstrong son. Have you finally chosen a wife?

Tahoma sighed, his own hazel eyes going towards the ground. No, Mother.

Good, she stated. I feared you two were talking about Dezba, she all but spat the girl’s name. Dezba was trouble with a capital ‘T’. Easily the most beautiful girl in the tribe, she walked around as though she were already Tahoma’s wife—disrespecting everyone around her as though they were the mud between her toes. She’d come from another tribe and had married a warrior who’d passed in battle. After the grieving period, some of the other men around had wanted her, but Dezba had refused any union. Her heart was set on one day becoming the wife of the chief. Lina said, I don’t want that woman anywhere near my family.

Another person made their presence known at the hogans entrance. Someone say something about a woman? It was Yas. He grinned as he came in and dropped onto the floor, stretching out on his side. Much like his brother, Yas was handsome and they’d both inherited their mother’s golden eyes, the only difference was that Yas knew it and used it much to his advantage. He plucked an apple off a nearby basket and began to eat as he glanced around the room, giving everyone a charming smile.

Gadgii said, Yas, where have you been? He’d been gone for a week on a scouting mission. A new group of natives had moved in on the other side of the mountain and no one wanted trouble.

Yas looked towards the ceiling before shrugging and returning his gaze. Welcome home, son.

Tahoma gave his brother a serious look. What did you find? That was Tahoma. No greetings. Straight to business.

Yas wiggled his dark brows. Women.

Tahoma shook his head at his brother, wondering why he’d even asked. Yas had never taken anything seriously. "And were there any men there as well? Perhaps, armed?"

Yas sighed. You’ve nothing to fear. They’re a small group, nowhere near as large as ours. Only about three families and they don’t expect to be joined by anyone else.

Gadgii asked, What are they?

Apache. The Ayze mortal enemy.

Tahoma’s eyes went wide. Apache?! He got to his feet and turned towards the entrance.

Lina called, Where are you going?

Like they didn’t know. To gather the warriors.

Gadgii sighed. Sit down, Tahoma.

Tahoma paused at the door and turned to the group. We can’t let them just sit on the other side of the mountain. They will grow and then they will cause trouble.

Yas rolled his eyes. They are mostly women, Tahoma. You’ve nothing to fear.

Lina narrowed her eyes at Yas. Only women?

Uh oh.

A rare smile played on Tahoma’s lips. His mother hated the way Yas ran through women, but more so, she hated when men tried to put women down. The Ayze people were known to respect their women. Tribe names came from the female side of the family. They were the backbone of the tribe and the leaders of the family.

Lina stood.

Yas went to her feet, dropping dramatically into a bow. His black hair fell around him, hiding him from sight. Forgive me, Mother. I spoke foolishly, for there is none greater than she who gave birth to me.

Lina frowned down at her son. Her hands on her hip. Don’t think I can’t still take a switch to you.

Yas grabbed her legs and gazed up at her as though he were a child. You wouldn’t beat your favorite son, would you?

Lina laughed. Favorite?

Yas simply grinned at her.

Tahoma’s smile fell. Yas got away with so much.

Someone small moved past him and entered the tent. It was his twelve-year-old sister, Kai.

Her hair was set in her usual braids that laid flat against her back. A jewel hung from the top of her head. She wore a blue dress—another gift from the local men. Mother, I want a horse.

For what? Lina asked as she retook her seat next to their father. It was easy to see who truly ran the home. Gadgii may have been chief, but Lina was the chief of his heart.

Kai placed her hands behind her back. For my Kinaalda. It was a party for a girl who was turning thirteen. A ceremony that would move her from girl to woman, which wouldn’t be happening to Kai until months from now. Still, Tahoma couldn’t believe how much his little sister had grown. He loved her... and was very grateful for the distraction from the previous topic. Now, he could get away.

Taking a few steps towards the entrance, Tahoma was almost free when his father called to him.

Don’t think I’ve forgotten you, Gadgii’s voice called, a touch of humor lay in it, but his black eyes were serious. You will marry, or I will give my place to Yas.

Tahoma’s eyes went wide.

So did Yas’s, who looked at his father with bewilderment. What have I done to offend you so, father?

Tahoma rolled his eyes and strolled out of the hogan. There was no way Yas would become chief. He didn’t want anything to do with responsibility. He all but ran from it at every turn. Going to his own hogan, Tahoma grabbed his hunting gear and headed for the woods. He needed to think and find a way to distract his parents from marriage, because he had no plans to ever take part in it. Ever.

*   *   *

3

*   *   *

The wagon came to a stop in Salt Lake City, Utah and Jane couldn’t be more pleased. The air was warm in Utah, just like Tennessee, but different in a way. There was none of the moisture that Jane had grown used to in Tennessee, and instead, the air was dry.

And the city was larger than she’d imagined. There were tons of people, either pulling wagons led by horses or just milling the street. They’d passed a building made of wood and stone, a large town hall, and over the entire street was a beautiful metal arch with an eagle on top.

Look, Sani, she whispered. A bird. Then she smiled.

The little boy paid her words no mind as