A Love Beyond Lies (Preview)

Chapter One

Amos ran a hand through his chestnut hair and looked at Justine with severe disappointment. Or maybe it was the other way around…

“A lie?” Justine asked her brown eyes, so much like his own, wide with shock.
“Please don’t look at me that way. I’m ashamed enough as it is,” Amos said.

“Okay, but what sort of lie? And why would you lie? That’s not like you,” Justine said, shaking her head at him.

“I know, I know. I can’t think of another time in all my life that I’ve lied. I mean, I’m sure I’ve done it. Everybody stretches the truth from time to time and I ought to be ashamed of it.

“But honestly, I can’t think of a time that I’ve ever done something like this,” Amos said, leaning back in his rocking chair as they sat on the front porch of their home. The sun was nearly gone and the sky was a wealth of color.

“You still haven’t told me what the lie was,” she said.

Amos took a deep breath and released it, ready to reveal his shame to his sister. She was the only person he really had left in the world, but he had longed to see their family continue for many generations to come. Just as he hoped that Justine would marry someday, he wanted to marry as well.

But his desire to marry had gone way too far.

“Some of the guys at the bank were teasing me. Saying that I’m too old to be unmarried and there must be something wrong with me,” he began.

“Too old? Hardly! I know just as many men older than you who are unmarried as I know younger,” Justine interjected.

“I know. I shouldn’t have taken it to heart because I know just as well that I’m a normal age for marrying. But it bothered me. I want a wife, Justine. I want to find a woman that I can love and I want to spend my life with her,” he said.

“All right, but what foolish lie did you manage to tell?” she asked.

He breathed in again, delaying as long as he could before he got the words out.

“I told them that I have someone. A woman in England. I said that we’re betrothed but she hasn’t come to America yet,” he said, his face contorted with embarrassment.

Justine’s mouth flew wide open.

“Amos Theodore Thompson. That is just about the most foolish thing I have ever heard in all my life. What on earth compelled you to do that?” Justine demanded.

“I told you, they were mocking me,” he said, still angry at himself for being foolish enough to fall to this.

Amos’s coworkers at the bank in Tucson were his friends and hardly the sort of people to whom he needed to prove himself. In fact, they were always teasing one another and joking around.

They didn’t expect one another to all be perfect or have ideal lives in every situation.

Then again, they were all happily married, and each had at least one child. They had all married fairly young and of the twelve employees at the bank, Amos was the only one who was still single.

But Amos truly longed for a wife. And for some reason, a reason that he could not quite put his finger on, he had always dreamt of a British wife.

Perhaps it had been the young woman who had helped to look after him now and then when his mother and father started to grow ill. She was so compassionate despite being far from home and in a foreign land.

Whatever it was that had caused him to seek this particular route for his life, Amos was now stuck with his lie, wishing that he could undo it all and go back and tell the truth.

“I honestly can’t believe you would stoop to such a level. You’ve broken a commandment. I thought you were a better man than that. I just can’t believe it,” Justine said, shaking her head again.

“Well, believe it, because I managed to get myself into this terrible situation,” he said.

“What will you do when they find out the truth?” Justine asked.

Again, Amos was sheepish, realizing that his sister was only going to be more shocked by his announcement.

“I intend to make it a truth,” he said.

Justine looked at Amos dubiously as if he had spoken to her in an entirely different language.

“What does that mean? How are you going to make it a truth?” she asked.

“It isn’t so hard,” Amos replied.

“I think it would be very hard. How do you intend to turn your lie around? You said you have a betrothed all the way over in England. Don’t you think they would notice if you disappeared for six months in order to go to England and find yourself a wife and come back?” Justine asked.

Amos tensed his jaw, annoyed that she was even thinking about it like that.

“I don’t have to do that,” he said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because, as it happens, there is a matchmaker here in Tucson who will bring me a wife,” Amos told her.

Once more Justine gave him a wide-eyed expression as if she had not understood a word that he said.

“A matchmaker? One who can get you a wife from England?” she asked, apparently trying to clarify.

“Exactly. And I have already contacted her about what I would like to find in a wife and the fact that I am wanting one,” Amos said, trying to straighten his back and be as confident as he was when he had not just been caught in a lie.

“What sort of woman would come all the way from England for a husband?” Justine asked.

“It would seem that there are quite a few. I believe the way it works is that this matchmaker has a sister in England who finds young women who want a better life in America. They sign up, come, and then the matchmaker pairs them with one of the men who is waiting for a wife,” he explained.

“I just don’t understand. Who says that life in America is better than the lives they live in England?” Justine asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe they are women from the lower classes? You know in England they are very bad about that,” Amos said.

“Sure, I have heard that, but I still don’t understand why they think it would be better here. And if she is from a lower class, what if you get paired up with a woman who has no manners at all?” Justine asked.

Amos had thought about that, but he didn’t mind so much. He could help his wife if she didn’t know how to do certain things that were considered manners in America. Besides, weren’t the manners different? Wasn’t he going to have to teach his wife about life here anyway?

“I’m sure it’s all going to be okay,” Amos said.

“Amos, I think you ought to stop and think about all of this,” Justine said.

“I have. I got myself into a lie and now I have to make it right. Justine, I am a grown man and I want a wife. I am ready for a wife. So why shouldn’t I find one? Why shouldn’t I fix this lie by making it true if it is a truth that I am longing for?” he asked.

“Amos, this is a sacred covenant. Marriage is a vow made before God and man to spend the rest of your life with another person. Is this really how you want to start your life together?” Justine asked.

Amos had thought about this as well. He had considered the fact that it was not ideal, that it was not even the sort of match that he thought would turn into true love. But he wanted to be married and he believed that God would honor the vow he was going to make.

“I know I am marrying this woman without really knowing her first,” he began. “I know I may end up with someone who won’t arrive for another two years. But, Justine, I am ready to be married. And marriage is a vow, a commitment. You’re right.

“But I also think that everyone who falls in love has to hold firmly to a vow at times. Everyone experiences difficulties, don’t they? So why shouldn’t I make a choice to love this woman no matter what?” he asked.

Justine looked sad from what he could tell in the waning light, but she sighed in understanding.

“I still don’t think you should be messing around like this. I have never known you to make a bad or irresponsible decision in your life and here you have made the biggest decision you could ever make and have done it without wisdom,” she said.

“I know you feel that way and I can’t exactly blame you. But this is my choice. I will make my lie a truth and I will do my best to like this woman, whoever she may be,” he said.

“Did the matchmaker tell you when she is going to come? Or what her name is?” Justine asked.

“Right now, she doesn’t even know who I will be matched to. But she said that her sister is always looking for young women and she expects more to show up over the next few months.

Apparently, there are always young ladies coming and there are always gentlemen waiting,” Amos said.

“I never imagined that you would be one of those fellas,” Justine said.

“Neither did I. But I will have a wife now and that’s what I want. I’m ready,” Amos said.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just introduce you to someone?” Justine asked.

Amos smiled at her, accepting her worry for him. But this was what he wanted. This, strange as it was, worked for him.

“You know, looking through Scripture, God used some pretty strange ways to bring people together,” Amos said.

“Sure, but he usually told them first. Think about Rebekah. It was God who sent for her,” Justine said.

“Do you think she knew? I know the man who went looking for her knew, but what about her? Do you think God told her to go and offer water? Or do you think she was just going about her business and there he was? Maybe it took a little bit of faith,” Amos said.

“You can’t really equate your attempts to undo a lie to Isaac and Rebekah in the Bible,” Justine said.

Amos knew she was right. All of this had been borne out of his mistake. But in making it right, perhaps he really could find someone worth his time and energy. Maybe a nice British lady would be exactly the sort of woman that he had always wanted.

In Tucson, he knew nobody who held his interest and he didn’t imagine that anybody was going to show up out of the blue. This was his only option and he was going to take advantage of it. He was going to enjoy the opportunity and find someone who would make him an honest man.

“Anyway, I hope this all works out for you. But if you don’t mind, I would really like to have my good and wise brother back,” Justine said.

“Don’t you worry, he will be back. Only when he comes, he will be happily married,” Amos said.

“Happily married or called out for his poor decisions,” Justine said dryly.

Amos looked back at the sunset and rocked a little more. As the sun slipped beyond the small range of mountains, he wondered what the future held.

Would he be happy and find the woman who made his dreams come true? Or would he spend the rest of his days stuck in a life that had been destroyed by a selfish lie?

Chapter Two

Gemma Temple tried her best to hold her tongue as her mother rushed her along through the shops, whisking her through London in an effort to brighten up the fashions that she wore. It was vital that she find a stunning new assortment of gowns.

Of course, Gemma considered this to be a grave waste of money. Why would she need three whole new gowns for nothing more than days out with Lord Linton? She could hardly stand to look at the man, let alone bear the thought of being married to him.

And with each gown came shoes and ribbons and bobbins for her hair, things that she would have been grateful for under very different circumstances.

But to be trying to impress the Duke of Walshire? Gemma could hardly stand the man. His rudeness, his authority over her, all of it was simply atrocious for Gemma.

He was a very clever man, to be sure. He only expressed his ownership of Gemma when her parents were at a distance and he could not be heard. Because of that, whenever Gemma begged them to release her from this marriage, they would claim that she was lying and being ungrateful.

They had no idea that she was suffering at the hands of a dreadful man who could not wait to make her his wife because he considered her his already. A thing to be owned.

“You ought to wear a pale pink. You look lovely in pale pink,” Gemma’s mother said for the third time that day.

“Mother, you know that I am not fond of that shade. Why not peach? I like it better and it is close enough,” Gemma said.

Mrs. Temple grimaced. Gemma knew that her mother had plenty of opinions as far as Gemma was concerned. But no matter how she tried to be obedient and to honor her mother, she could scarcely handle the thought of looking her best for Lord Linton.

“I think the pink,” Mrs. Temple said with finality, handing the silk to the merchant.

“A lovely choice,” he said, despite having heard Gemma’s protestations.

She watched as her mother continued to choose accenting ribbons and a purple brocade and another silk of a deep red. But all of these did not appear to be enough for her as Mrs. Temple found excuses for more and more outfits that Gemma simply did not need.

“Now, I believe that Lord Linton will be very pleased when he sees you in such a lovely gown. It will flatter your figure quite nicely,” she said.

“Mother, Lord Linton does not need to see me at all,” Gemma said quietly.

Mrs. Temple shot daggers with her eyes.

“My dear, I do not understand this selfish disinterest in a man who adores you,” her mother said.

“He does not adore me, Mother. He adores the thought of owning me,” Gemma said.

“Oh, poppycock. You know as well as I do that Lord Linton is as fine a gentleman as there has ever been,” she said.

“I have told you repeatedly that he is nothing of the sort,” Gemma said, indignant.

Her mother waved a hand in the air as if to brush away the thought. Mr. and Mrs. Temple would not believe Gemma no matter what, no matter how many examples she gave or stories she might tell.

The wedding was set for just five weeks from now and Gemma’s mother and father were determined that she would have to constantly keep her focus on maintaining Lord Linton’s affections during that season.

Her primary goal would be nothing more than indulging him at every turn so that he would not suddenly get a whiff of someone who might take his attentions away. Certainly, it was vital to Mr. and Mrs. Temple that Gemma keep his interest.

She often wondered how they could be so determined to marry her off to a man they did not even trust to be loyal to her before marriage. What was she to do? Why was it so important that she marry him?

Gemma thought back to a ball the previous year, when she had debuted in society. It had been her first awareness of Lord Linton when her dear friend Millicent Fogle had come running to Gemma with tears in her eyes as Gemma stood on the balcony.

Begging Millicent to tell her what had happened, Gemma listened and was horrified to learn that Lord Linton had cornered her and had kissed her without her consent. For an innocent young lady like Millicent, a first kiss was a truly precious thing to be given only to the man she was to marry.

It had shocked Gemma to hear, at the very next ball, that her parents had deemed him just the sort of gentleman that their daughter ought to be married to. And even as he began his pursuit of Gemma, she heard more and more stories from young ladies about their desperation to not be caught in his gaze.

The first time they had been alone together, walking the gardens and watched from afar by her mother and father, Lord Linton had told her that he wished to buy her.

“Buy?” she had asked.

“Yes, I think that you would make an ideal wife,” he had replied, apparently not understanding that he had insulted her.

“I am not a cravat. One cannot buy a woman,” she had retorted, to which he had simply laughed and moved on with his plans to make her his wife with the blessing of her parents.

“Gemma, dear,” her mother said, “I think Lord Linton is fond of green and your eyes are the loveliest shade, so what if we find a deep, dark green bonnet for you?”

“Mother, have you heard nothing that I have said?” Gemma asked.

“Oh, all of that nonsense about Lord Linton? Come and be a dear and let it all go. I would like to see how this looks on you,” Mrs. Temple said.

Gemma stood firmly, desperate to make her mother hear her.

“Mother, Lord Linton told me at our last engagement that he should always expect me to remain silent unless given express permission to speak. He said that he is not giving you and father all of the benefits of my marriage to him just so that he may end up with a willful wife.

“He even told me once that if I ever show any spirit, he will be sure to break it,” Gemma said, recounting one of the more appalling statements that her betrothed had threatened her with.

“Dear girl, I simply cannot understand how you think of such terrible accusations as that. Poor Lord Linton. All he wants is a beautiful wife and you are doing all that you may cause problems before your marriage has even begun,” Mrs. Temple said.

As though she were screaming into a dark void, Gemma knew once more that she would not be heard. There was nothing that might convince her mother and father of the honest truth that she had been telling them.

They simply did not wish to hear it.

Once upon a time, Gemma could not believe that Lord Linton had gotten away with all of his exploits and mistreatment of young ladies. Now, however, it all made perfect sense. He could do anything he wished because no one would question him. They would all accuse their daughters of being the dishonest ones.

For a man so wealthy, it was easy to believe that anything he wished for was his by right. There was no reason for him to worry about whether or not he would be doubted.

Gemma stared out the window, looking at London with gloom. The rainclouds were gathering, and she heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance.

Six months before, she had met a young lady from America who had been quite a joyful sort.

Oftentimes, she would talk about the heat of the southwest, the dryness and the joy of riding through such heat with the faint wind blowing against her skin.

Now, that was a young lady who had spirit. And Gemma dearly longed to be able to freely show her own spirit. Ever since that time, she had been fascinated by America.

Gemma had begun to read about the fledgling country, to try and meet more Americans in London, although she had only managed to meet one other and he was a man the age of her father. Still, she had asked him a great many questions.

But the fact was, she was stuck in London, unable to get away. No matter how she might beg, her parents would never send her to America. They detested the idea of it. And not only that, but they were unwilling to release her from a marriage to Lord Linton.

For a moment, outside the window, Gemma was uncertain if the rain had begun or if it was the smog of the city that clouded everything. Or perhaps it was neither of those, perhaps it was only her state of sadness.

“I believe we are all finished here,” her mother said.

“Wonderful, does that mean we may return home?” Gemma asked.

“We still have one more stop to make, but it is right next door, so we needn’t worry about taking the coach,” her mother said.

They made their way to the shop right beside the dressmaker and had a look at shoes that were brought into London from cobblers out in the countryside. Mrs. Temple had something very specific in mind.

Gemma wandered the shop and saw a wall towards the back where there was all manner of postings:

Governess Wanted!

Don’t miss Eliza Wendall in her latest role for the stage!

Hamish’s Horses—a breeder to meet all your equine needs!

And then she saw it, the very thing that lit her spirit aflame once more:

Delilah Collins—Matchmaker. Find your American husband in the new country!

A matchmaker? One that could get her to America?

Gemma read the headline of the poster three times before she was willing to believe it enough to move on to the next part of it. But it was true. All of it. There really was an opportunity to go to America and find a husband.

Tempted beyond what she had ever imagined, Gemma looked closely at the address listed in order to communicate with Miss Delilah Collins. She could do this, she could find the woman and make her destiny. She could escape the dreaded marriage to Lord Linton.

Gemma’s stomach turned in anticipation. Was she really brave enough? Was she willing to risk everything for this dream?

As her heart pounded, Gemma decided that she was. She had to be. If she was stuck in England for the rest of her life, a mere piece of property that lived in fear of her husband, then there was hardly a risk to consider.

Was she guaranteed a good husband in America? No. Was there every chance that she would not love him? Certainly. But he would not be Lord Linton.

Perhaps in America she would not find someone better, but Gemma was certain that he could not be worse.

She gathered her courage and forged ahead with her mother, suddenly pretending to be perfectly docile.

“I love this pair,” she said, choosing shoes that would accompany one of the new gowns, but were also far more practical for a life that may require more walking than her current life of coaches at all times.

“Oh, yes, they do go so well with the purple dress,” her mother agreed.

Gemma smiled and nodded, giving her mother a large grin.

She had made a decision. And nobody would be able to stop her.

Chapter Three

Marianne Collins was on her way. She had sent a note to Amos that morning that his wife would be arriving that day. A messenger from her sister had come ahead of this woman—and other young ladies—and across the country to Tucson in order to tell Marianne that another batch of women would be expected.

Miss Collins had apparently chosen someone very specific for Amos, although he did not believe her. She had never met any of these women and she had hardly even spoken to him aside from a brief interaction when he first told her of his desire for a wife, and one other time in which he had paid a visit to ask when the woman would come.

Nevertheless, Miss Collins was apparently very determined that she would make her clients feel as though they were receiving a truly personalized service. As if she had hand-picked the women herself.

Amos paced in anticipation, frightened by the choice that he had made.

Would he be happy? Would he learn to love this woman he was apparently committing his life to without knowing a single thing about her?

He recognized what a strange choice this had been, but Amos was utterly unable to comprehend any other options that he had had. No, this was it. He was going to marry a beautiful, dignified, British woman.

Well, she would at least be British. As for the rest, he could hardly say until she was standing before him.

Justine had agreed to be out when the young woman arrived, for which Amos was rather thankful. As much as he loved his sister, he didn’t think that she would be happy to be a part of this and he worried greatly that she might make the young lady uncomfortable.

Of course, the whole situation was likely to be rather uncomfortable, he imagined.

But when he heard the sound of the coach coming towards his home, Amos took in a deep breath, ragged and unsteady.

He thought to go to the window, to catch a first glimpse of the woman, but his feet would not move him, and he froze.

The knock at the door sounded. Still, he could not move.

Amos tried again to push forward. And again.

Finally, he managed to lift his right foot and drag his left behind as he proceeded.

When Amos reached the door, he looked at the handle, opened the door, and did not take his eyes off it until the door had swung wide open. He took a step back and finally lifted his gaze.

Miss Collins stood in front, her grey dress in decent shape, but dusty from the arid desert. Grey hair to match, most likely pretty enough in her day, but she was now a spinster.

Amos could see the red hair of the woman behind her, like an outline. Red hair and a pale pink sleeve.

But finally, Miss Collins moved to let the young woman in and Amos was able to see his new wife.
His breath caught immediately, and Amos was shocked that she was so lovely. Of course, he had hoped for a beautiful wife, but hope and expectation were two entirely different commodities and the latter had not dawned on him.

Her red hair was smooth and a deep shade, contrasting with the paleness of her skin and the stark green of her eyes.

Amos had heard that many women from Scotland had this coloring, but he had never met a British woman from England and for some strange reason he had been picturing a woman with plain brown hair and maybe blue eyes.

But someone with such lively features? It truly was a surprise to him.

Her lips were a natural shade of pink that were enhanced by matching her gown, and her little pointed chin was feminine and delicate.

“Ahem,” came the terse sound of Miss Collins in front of him.

Amos was alerted to the fact that he had been staring quite rudely. The young lady did not appear to have noticed as she was looking around the house, but Miss Collins was evidently displeased.

“Mr. Amos Thompson, please allow me to introduce you to Miss Gemma Temple,” Miss Collins said.

For the first time since she had walked through the door, Miss Temple returned his gaze and her eyes met his with a sort of surprise. It was as though she had not even noticed him standing there the entire time.

“Very nice to meet you, Miss Temple,” Amos said.

“And you, Mr. Thompson,” she said, giving a low curtsey.

Amos was unsure exactly how to respond to her greeting but decided that he might as well bow rather than extend his hand.

When their eyes met once more, Amos was relieved that she gave him a smile, although it lasted very briefly before she began to glance around the house once more. He could not help but notice that a small twitch formed between her brows, as if to express a disappointment she was trying to hide.

Amos’s heart sunk, but he did not wish to lose hope already. Not when he had only just met the woman he was meant to marry so soon.

“This is your home?” she asked, that twitch returning.

“Yes, yes, it is,” he said.

“It is…smaller than I expected for an American home,” she said.

Amos tried not to take her statement to heart. She clearly did not know what to expect.

“It is considered fairly nice in this area, actually,” he replied, having a great deal of pride in his home and the work that he had done in order to afford something like this.

“I see. I suppose I have not seen many American homes. How many bedrooms does it have?” she asked.

Still thinking it was strange that she was so fixated on this issue, Amos tried to smile through his gritted teeth.

“Three. Which is more than many,” he replied, defensively.

She looked at him, apparently realizing that he was offended. But she said nothing about it.

“It is very different from my home in England,” she said.

“Well, at the moment it is only my sister and myself who live here, so three bedrooms for two people is quite a lot,” he said.

A small huff of laughter escaped her lips before she put a delicate hand to them in embarrassment.

“Forgive me. I just haven’t heard a statement like that about a home with three bedrooms before,” she said.

“Well, how many rooms did your house have?” he challenged.

“Twelve bedrooms, four rooms for the housekeeping staff, a dining hall, a parlor, a drawing-room, the kitchen, the study, the library,” she listed before trailing off, apparently finished.

Amos was astounded. Why would anybody need that many rooms?

“You must have a very large family,” he said.

“Sadly, I have no siblings. It was simply my mother, my father, and myself,” she said.

Amos felt his jaw drop open. That was nonsense and he didn’t understand why anybody would need a home like that.

“It sounds like our countries are very different,” he said, trying to keep patient and not grumble.

Suddenly, Amos was wishing that he had spent a good deal longer in prayer for this woman and this marriage. He had known that she might not be his ideal woman, but he had never imagined that she would be arrogant.

It occurred to him that she was not trying to be rude. Perhaps she was simply surprised and was trying to communicate that. Perhaps this was how the English lived and spoke.

Indeed, Miss Temple did smile at him again, inhaling and looking far more pleasant.

“Forgive me, I meant no insult. I have stayed at a few inns on the way to your home here but know very little about this country and what to expect,” she said.

“I understand. It must be very difficult to leave your own country behind,” Amos said, hoping he might learn why she had done that.

“It is difficult, but it was for the best,” she said.

“Really? You are happier here?” he asked.

“We shall see. I do not know what I shall feel as time goes on,” she said.

Amos nodded, understanding that it must be rather difficult for Miss Temple to figure what was ahead for her. She had come to America knowing only that she was going to be married, nothing more.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Famished,” she said with an apologetic smile.

“Wonderful. My sister left something for us. She is a wonderful cook,” he said.

“Your sister does the cooking? You have no housekeeper?” she asked.

Amos laughed.

“There aren’t many around here who have that,” he said. “Maybe in the eastern part of the country, but not here.”

“I see…” she said.

He gathered that she would rather have gone somewhere like that, but Amos was not going to give up hope. He was going to show this beautiful woman that he would be an excellent husband, a husband that she could be happy with, a man who would bring her joy and blessing.

“Well, I do hope that you enjoy your time together. I must go and attend to more clients,” Miss Collins said in a clipped tone, darting out the door so quickly that Amos wondered if she was frightened he might send Miss Temple back.

The door closed behind her and suddenly they were there, just the two of them. They stood awkwardly, neither knowing quite what to say.

“Oh, right. The food,” Amos said, leading Miss Temple to the little kitchen where there was a table set up. He realized in that moment that there were only two chairs and now that Miss Temple had arrived, they would need a third.

“Just give me a moment,” he said, starting to warm up the food over the little wood stove that they had.

Miss Temple sat and continued with her wandering eyes, taking in the room. He wondered what else might be passing through her thoughts. He also wondered how she felt about staying in the house with him and his sister before they married. Was she comfortable with it? Did she trust him?

“Do you have things with you? I can take them to your room, and you may get some rest if you wish after lunch,” he suggested.

“That would be nice. I would like to rest. But Miss Collins said that she is having my things brought later. All of the young women that I was with had their belongings in one coach while Miss Collins brought each of us and is taking us one by one to our new homes,” she said.

It was all so matter-of-fact and simply stated that Amos wondered if she was really all right with it all. Had she accepted a fate or had she chosen this path? He couldn’t quite tell which it was, for she still appeared so unhappy with the decision that it was difficult to say what she had expected and how the reality compared.

“Well, if there is anything that I can get you to make your stay more comfortable in the meantime, please tell me. I think my sister is a little bit taller than you, but if you need to borrow one of her dresses, you may,” he said.

“Please, you needn’t worry. Mine should be here very soon,” she said.

Amos nodded and hoped that she would be comfortable.

Miss Temple appeared pleased with the meal and when he showed her to her bedroom, she was less disappointed than she had been before. He didn’t mind that she wanted to be alone and understood that she would likely feel that way for some time.

Still, he hoped that after a bit of rest, Miss Temple would be willing to spend some time talking and getting to know one another. Until then, he would wait.

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“A Love Beyond Lies” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Trapped in a terrible match, Gemma Temple tries to escape from her future husband by becoming a mail-order bride. When she thinks she has finally managed to start over, her past hunts her down and her new husband, Amos, is nothing like what she has imagined. Will she find common ground with him, or is she cursed to live a life without true love? Will she find a way out of the imminent danger that threatens her happiness?

Amos Thompson is caught up in a lie that he needs to rectify as soon as possible. Finding a mail-order bride is like manna from heaven. At first sight, he feels enchanted by Gemma’s presence and intrigued by her different personality. Although his heart and mind are intrigued, his happy moments with her won’t last for long. Is he willing to take a step further, no matter the consequences? As his own mistakes will keep challenging him, will he endure everything for the sake of love?

Battling difficulties of culture, while they are trying to know each other better has been much more demanding than they expected. Their efforts though will be ambushed by a threat that will almost tear them apart. Seeking God in the midst of their struggles, Amos and Gemma wonder if their desperate decisions could ever bring a happy ending. Stuck in the nightmares of their past, could they hope for a future together beyond lies? Will they manage to overcome their secrets or will they be overrun by the threats that are closing in?

“A Love Beyond Lies” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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