Bride of the Frontier
A Prophecy of Sisters Novel
Hayley Faiman
HAYLEY FAIMAN BOOKS, LLC
Contents
Also by Hayley Faiman
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The Prophecy
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Epilogue
Bride of the Soldier
Prologue
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Epilogue
Stay Connected
Acknowledgments
About the Author
BRIDE OF THE FRONTIER
Copyright © 2020 by Hayley Faiman
All rights reserved.
Cover Designer & Editor: My Brother’s Editor. Ellie McLove. https://mybrotherseditor.net
Proofreading: My Brother’s Editor. Rosa Sharon. https://mybrotherseditor.net
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website: https://hayleyfaiman.com
Created with Vellum
Also by Hayley Faiman
Men of Baseball Series—
Pitching for Amalie
Catching Maggie
Forced Play for Libby
Sweet Spot for Victoria
Russian Bratva Series—
Owned by the Badman
Seducing the Badman
Dancing for the Badman
Living for the Badman
Tempting the Badman
Protected by the Badman
Forever my Badman
Betrothed to the Badman
Chosen by the Badman
Bought by the Badman
Collared by the Badman
Notorious Devils MC—
Rough & Rowdy
Rough & Raw
Rough & Rugged
Rough & Ruthless
Rough & Ready
Rough & Rich
Rough & Real
Cash Bar Series—
Laced with Fear
Chased with Strength
Flamed with Courage
Blended with Pain
Twisted with Chaos
Mixed with Trouble
SAVAGE BEAST MC –
UnScrew Me
UnBreak Me
UnChain Me
UnLeash Me
UnTouch Me
UnHinge Me
UnWreck Me - Spring 2021
Unfit Hero Series –
CONVICT
HERO
FRAUD
KILLER
COWBOY
Zanetti Famiglia Series -
Becoming the Boss
Becoming his Mistress
Becoming his Possession
Becoming the Street Boss
Becoming the Hitman
The Prophecy of Sisters
Bride of the Traitor
Bride of the Sea
Bride of the Frontier
Bride of the Emperor- Spring 2021
Esquire Black Duet Series –
DISCOVERY
APPEAL
Astor Family Series —
Hypocritically Yours
Forbidden Love Series —
Personal Foul
Kinetic Energy
Standalone Titles
Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale
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I don’t believe in pessimism. If something doesn’t come up the way you want, forge ahead. If you think it’s going to rain, it will.
Clint Eastwood
The Prophecy
Four sisters.
Four sisters will be born. They are not of this world.
Four sisters who are born of the same mother and father, yet do not share the same appearance. They are the only ones of their kind in the entire universe. Across our world and all others.
Four sisters will marry and love the fiercest warriors from all four corners of our world. Once all four relationships are consummated, the events foretold in the prophecy will be set in motion, becoming unstoppable.
If the four sisters come together once their fate has been sealed, they will absorb all of the powers this world holds.
Four sisters will be the most powerful creatures in this world. It is not known if this will be used for good or evil.
The future is uncertain and unknown if these sisters gather together in our world. Only the fates know what the final outcome will be.
Prologue
COLT
Standing at the back of my painted wood wraparound porch, I lean my shoulder against a pillar and look straight ahead. Sweat drips down the center of my back, beneath my waistband and into my wool pants.
My leather gun belt is like a second skin hanging around my hips, my cigarette dangles between my lips, a plume of smoke gathering around my head as I look out at the vast desert countryside ahead of me.
“Sir, you have mail,” Ernest announces.
I’m not exactly sure what he’s considered, a houseman, maybe… perhaps a butler. All I know is that he came with the position and he’s not willing to leave my side, no matter how many times I tell him that
he is not needed. Though I’ve become rather fond of him, his silent observations and his seeming devotion to me.
“Went on a bender last night, Ernest. Wanna just open it for me? Read it aloud?”
There is a moment of silence and I think that maybe he’s just ignored me, but then he finally speaks. He begins to read the correspondence, though I think that he’s scared to read it aloud, judging by the way his voice trembles with each word.
Dear Mr. Colton James,
We feel it is our duty to inform you, that as the current leader of this great country, you are strongly urged to take a wife and start on a family, soon. Our country takes great pride in its righteousness and morals.
We hope that we have not made a mistake in appointing a single man to the highest position of our land and that you will do the right thing and take a wife for the good of your people.
Sincerely,
The Assembly
I snort. What a blazing joke. Turning my head, I glance back at Ernest, who is looking mighty pale and as though he’s about to be sick. He should know me well enough by now to know that I will not shoot the messenger.
“Thank you, Ernest. You can burn that,” I snap.
His eyes widen and he gulps, taking a step back. I watch as he dips his chin, then spins around and walks back into the house. A home and position that apparently comes with expectations and requirements as to who is allowed to share my bed and when. Something had I known, I would have taken into consideration, and most likely not agreed to take the position.
I’m full of it though.
I would have taken the position even had I known, because this country was floundering. It needed me. It needed someone strong. It needed someone who would not cow down to the whims of politicians or other surrounding countries’ and lands’ demands.
That man is me.
Which means I will not cow down to their demands to take a wife either. In fact, my visits to the Blue Bird Theatre will increase. The women there are superb, and I’ll be damned if these people dictate my personal life.
“Ernest,” I roar.
He appears only seconds later, his eyes wide as he rushes toward me, then stops right in front of me. “Sir?”
My lips curl into a snarling smile. “Go on down to Bessie Silks and ask for two of her girls and a private room for the evening, until tomorrow morning.”
“Sir,” he says in a warning tone.
Resting my palm against Blue Lightnin’, my six-shooter, I arch a brow and dare him to argue or defy me. He doesn’t. Instead he dips his chin, spins around on his heels, and a few moments later I hear the front door close behind him, then the sound of the horse’s hooves pounding against the hard desert dirt.
My cigarette still dangling, I decide to go inside and grab some coffee and biscuits before I begin my day’s work. I may be angry with the people who wrote to me, the Assembly, but that doesn’t mean that I ever stop working for my country.
I won’t.
Sitting down at my desk, I wait for my food to be delivered and begin to go over the contracts for the new cross country railroad system that I am set to oversee. A system that will unite our country in a way that has never been seen before, an innovation of massive proportions.
A race to a revolution.
More ways for men to fight, sabotage, and cause problems. More headaches for me. Never-ending blazing headaches. This is what the group of nosy dratted people should be worried about, not who shares my bed, or how that happens.
I will never concede. It’s why they put me in this position. If they thought that I would be their stringed puppet, they asked the wrong man to lead them.
BIRDIE
“They’re both missing,” Dru announces.
Inhaling a deep breath, I try not to panic. My sisters are missing. Both of them. They’re not together, at least I’m pretty sure that they aren’t. Liv is thirty-one and lives in New York City. Sybilla is twenty-seven and lives in Seattle. I highly doubt that they somehow managed to get together without any of us knowing.
“Mom and dad haven’t heard from them?” I ask.
“Mom’s pretty worried about Sybilla. She usually checks in at least a couple times a week and shows up once a week. She hasn’t seen her, Birdie. Not at all.”
Fuck.
I think about the fact that my sisters, the two most responsible ones out of the four of us, our older sisters, they’re gone.
Liv is the oldest sister and she’s like our little mother hen, always has been. We’re all pretty close in age, but that never once stopped Liv from acting like we’re her own baby chicks.
Then there’s Sybilla. Sure, she’s been going through drama with her ex, but she’s still that responsible woman who shows up to work every day and stays in contact with Dru and our parents without fail.
“Liv was supposed to check on Sybilla, but now I can’t get ahold of her either. I’m really worried.”
My stomach twists and my hands start to shake as I think about what could have happened to them. How is it possible for both of your sisters to disappear? How? It’s a twenty-hour drive to get to Seattle, but I could catch a flight and be there in just a few hours. I need to go and look for Sybilla myself, I have to make sure they’re okay. I have to try to find them, I won’t be able to sleep without knowing they’re okay.
“I’m going to Seattle,” I answer.
“What about work?”
Pressing my lips together, I think about my job. I’m a photographer. A freelance photographer. I love taking family portraits, and children, but my bread and butter are boudoir and weddings. I love them all, every single one.
It’s my passion and I’m just thankful that I’ve been able to make a living doing my dream job. The great thing about it is that I’m self-employed. It’s also a hindrance in an emergency situation, because there is nobody else to take over for me.
“Let me see…” I pull up my calendar on my iPad and cringe. “Shit. I have a wedding Saturday and four boudoir sessions lined up for Sunday. I can go…” I scroll through my calendar, day by day, and my heart sinks with each day that I scroll past. “In six weeks. I can go in six-fucking-weeks,” I snap.
“I’m swamped too. I can’t leave work.”
I roll my eyes. Yes, Drucilla is so busy. She’s so busy with her super important job as a pharmaceutical sales rep. I mean, it’s not unimportant, but it’s not like she can’t take a few days off either. There is literally nobody else that I can hand my job over to while I run all over the country looking for my missing sister.
“Don’t you have vacation time that you can take?” I snap.
She hums. “Only one problem, I blew all of it when I went partying in Cancun over the summer.”
God, I hate how fucking young she is sometimes. Granted, I’m only four years older, but Jesus, partying in Cancun? She’s not in college anymore. It’s time she grows up and acts like a damn adult.
“You are a child,” I grind out.
I can practically hear her eyes roll in the back of her head. “Whatever,” she mumbles. “That’s not the point. The point is our sisters are missing,” she says, stressing the word missing.
My stomach clenches again from her words. “Do you think they’re together somewhere?” I whisper.
There’s a moment of silence, then she clears her throat. “Maybe? Hopefully?”
I decide to end the call with her and tell her that I’ll do what I can, as fast as I can, and that I’ll call her soon. Then, my next step is searching for my mom’s number and touching her name as soon as I see it.
My mom picks up with a hum as she sings the word hello. She seems extremely unbothered, and then I remember that today is Thursday. Mom loves Thursdays, she spends them with her group of girlfriends and has brunch, she always comes home tipsy and I swear a bit high at the same time.
“Have you heard from Sybilla or Liv?” I ask, almost demanding and harshly so.
There is a pause and she clears her throat. �
�Oh, you know your sisters,” she sings.
Um. I do, which is why I’m asking her. If it were Dru, I could buy that, but this isn’t Dru, these are my annoyingly responsible older sisters. She doesn’t sound like she’s as worried as Dru made it out to seem.
“I do, which is why I’m concerned. Dru said she hasn’t heard from Sybilla and that you haven’t either. Then she said she sent Liv on a mission to find her and she hasn’t heard from Liv now either. I’m concerned, Mom.”
“I was worried, but now I feel in my gut that they’re fine. I had a dream about them.”
I blink, unbelieving that my mother is claiming that a dream made her feel all better about the fact that they’re gone. That they are missing.