OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Hearts of the Untamed West", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!Prologue
East Bend, Colorado
September 15, 1883
To Whom It May Concern,
My name is Gilly Connor. I am a woman of twenty-eight years, residing in East Bend, a small but hopeful town nestled among the rugged foothills of Colorado. I write to you today with a heart full of hope and a sincere wish for a new beginning.
I find myself in search of a partner with whom I can share the journey of life. My circumstances have been challenging, and I long for a companion who values the same dreams and principles that guide my own path. My situation is modest, but my spirit is resilient, and I am determined to build a future filled with warmth and mutual respect.
My life has been marked by both joy and hardship. I have faced the pain of loss and the trials of maintaining a small but struggling hotel. The recent passing of my parents has left a void in my life, and my younger sister, Nora, has been left in my care. Nora’s situation is difficult; she was injured in an accident and now requires a wheelchair to get around. This has added an additional layer of responsibility to my life.
I seek a man who understands the value of hard work, commitment, and compassion. Someone who is willing to embrace both the challenges and the rewards of building a life together. I believe in the strength of partnership and the joy that comes from facing life’s trials side by side.
I am an honest and hardworking woman with a deep appreciation for the simple pleasures in life. I enjoy cooking, reading, and spending time in the beauty of nature. My hope is to find a man who shares these values and desires a home built on trust, love, and mutual support.
If you find yourself drawn to the prospect of a new beginning and believe that we might be well-suited for each other, I would be delighted to hear from you. Please write to me at the address below, and let us begin a correspondence that may lead to a promising future together.
With sincere hope and anticipation,
Gilly Connor
East Bend, Colorado
Chapter One: Gilly
December 10, 1883
East Bend was cloaked in a thick layer of snow, the world outside the Rosewood Hotel wrapped in a relentless winter chill. Inside, the fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting a comforting glow over the hotel’s lobby, but it did little to soothe the tension that gripped Gilly Connor’s heart.
Gilly stood behind the reception desk, her face set in a troubled frown as she watched Solomon Webster, the bank manager, storm out of the hotel. His face was a mask of frustration, his boots pounding heavily on the wooden floor as he yanked open the door, letting in a gust of icy air.
The door swung shut behind him with a decisive thud, and Gilly let out a long, weary sigh. She ran a hand through her tangled hair, trying to calm the storm within her. The festive decorations she had so carefully hung for Christmas seemed to mock her as they swayed gently in the draft from the door.
Rosie Lawson, Gilly’s best friend and confidante, emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She was clearly concerned, her brows knitting together as she approached Gilly.
“Gilly, is everything alright?” Rosie’s voice was filled with worry.
Gilly shook her head, her expression grim. “Solomon’s furious. He’s threatening foreclosure again if I don’t get the payment in by the end of the week.”
Rosie’s eyes widened with concern. “But with this storm, travel is impossible. How are you supposed to come up with the money?”
“I don’t know,” Gilly admitted, her voice thick with frustration. “It’s like he doesn’t understand the situation. Business is slow, and we’ve got bills piling up. It feels like I’m fighting an uphill battle.”
Rosie stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on Gilly’s arm. “You’re doing everything you can. The storm’s hit everyone hard, not just you. There must be a way to get through this.”
Gilly looked around the dimly lit lobby, feeling a pang of helplessness. The holiday decorations seemed out of place amidst her mounting worries. “I just don’t see how we’re going to manage. We barely have enough guests to cover the basics.”
Rosie’s expression softened. “You’re not alone in this. We’ll figure something out. Maybe there’s someone who can help, or we can find a way to make the hotel’s assets work for us.”
Gilly tried to muster a hopeful smile, but it faltered. “I just wish I could see a light at the end of the tunnel.”
The wind howled outside, rattling the windows and intensifying the feeling of isolation. Gilly stared at the flickering flames in the fireplace, feeling the weight of her responsibilities pressing heavily on her shoulders. She had always prided herself on her independence and ability to handle problems, but this challenge felt overwhelming.
Rosie squeezed her arm gently. “We’ll get through this. Just keep your chin up. The storm won’t last forever, and neither will these troubles. I’m going to go check on Nora.”
“Thank you,” Gilly called after her. Seeing that there was no one else around, Gilly retreated into the back room, seeking a brief escape from the relentless storm outside and the ever-present clamour of the Rosewood Hotel. The room, cluttered with ledgers, receipts, and half-written notes, seemed to close in on her as she sank into her worn wooden chair. The dim glow of the oil lamp flickered, casting long, dancing shadows that mirrored the turbulence in her mind.
She spread out the stack of financial documents on her desk, trying to steady her nerves. The figures on the pages seemed to taunt her, a stark reminder of the dire situation she faced. Gilly ran a trembling hand through her hair, her eyes scanning the troubling numbers.
Her ledger was a grim reflection of her mounting troubles. Monthly rent for the hotel was due—$100 that had to be paid to Mr. Harrison, the landlord. She had also accumulated $125 in outstanding bills, including a $20 invoice for the recent coal delivery, which was essential for keeping the hotel warm. The kitchen repairs, which had been necessary after a burst pipe last month, had cost another $30. And the laundry service, vital for maintaining the linens and towels, had sent a bill for $15.
Adding to her anxiety was the looming bank loan payment of $250 due next week. This sum was a heavy weight on her shoulders, especially with her current income falling short. Over the past week, the income from guests had barely reached $40—barely enough to cover the cost of supplies, which amounted to $40, and staff wages of $75.
As she stared at the figures, her thoughts drifted to the coming months. The forecast was predicting harsher weather, with temperatures plunging even further and more snow on the way. The hotel’s heating bills would only increase, and with fewer travelers braving the storm to stay at the Rosewood, the revenue would likely drop further.
Her concern was not just for the hotel’s finances, but for her younger sister, Nora. A painting of Nora, full of life and laughter, sat on the corner of her desk. The contrast between the image and the reality of her sister’s current condition was heart-wrenching. Nora had been growing increasingly withdrawn, her wheelchair now broken and contributing to her isolation.
Gilly’s heart ached as she thought about Nora, who was becoming more despondent each day. The weight of the hotel’s finances and the burden of caring for her sister were almost too much to bear. She knew she needed to find a way to lift Nora’s spirits, but her own financial worries seemed to suffocate every hopeful thought.
A sudden gust of wind rattled the window, drawing Gilly’s gaze to the storm outside. The snow swirled violently, and the howling wind seemed to echo the chaos inside her. With a deep, weary sigh, Gilly placed her head in her hands, feeling the oppressive weight of the numbers and the unyielding storm.
Determined not to succumb to despair, Gilly forced herself to refocus on the paperwork. She knew she had to find a way to keep the hotel afloat, to protect her sister’s well-being, and to somehow navigate through this relentless winter. Her future, and the future of the Rosewood Hotel, depended on her ability to find a solution before it was too late.
Her eyes fell on a letter that she had not seen before, and she tore it open, praying that it wasn’t another bill.
The letter was from the East Bend Chamber of Commerce, and its contents sent a chill down her spine:
Dear Ms. Connor,
Please be advised that Jack Walcott, a prominent businessman, has acquired the land on the edge of East Bend with plans to construct a new, larger hotel, which will bring significant job growth to the town. This development is expected to significantly impact local businesses but will compete with yours. As the Chamber of Commerce, we are obliged to inform you of this.
Regards,
The East Bend Chamber of Commerce
Gilly tried not to drop the letter in shock.
The news was a heavy blow. She knew exactly the kind of hotel he would build; she had heard rumours of his other business developments. Walcott’s new hotel would likely draw away much of the clientele that the Rosewood Hotel depended on. With its modern amenities and larger accommodations, Walcott’s establishment would be a serious competitor, potentially pulling guests away from her modest inn.
Her concern for her younger sister, Nora, who had been increasingly withdrawn and depressed, added to her burden. Nora’s condition had worsened as the weather grew colder, and Gilly found it difficult to balance her sister’s emotional needs with the hotel’s financial struggles. Seeing Nora’s pain and her own mounting worries about the hotel created a sense of helplessness that Gilly struggled to shake off.
With a sigh, Gilly set the letter aside and began jotting down potential solutions. Each idea seemed fraught with challenges: increasing rates might drive away the few guests she had left, while cutting costs could compromise the quality of service that kept the Rosewood competitive. The thought of a luxurious rival hotel just outside town loomed large, casting a shadow over her already difficult situation.
As the wind howled outside and snow began to fall more heavily, Gilly felt the chill seep into her very bones. The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of paper and the occasional crackle of the oil lamp. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers together in a prayerful gesture. The silence of the room seemed to echo her despair, and she whispered a heartfelt plea to her deceased parents, hoping for some guidance or sign that things would get better.
“Please, Mother, Father,” she murmured, her voice barely audible above the storm outside. “I need your help now more than ever. I know you’re gone, but I can’t see a way out of this. Nora needs me. I need to be strong for her, but I don’t know how.”
Her parents had been her rock in life, and their sudden death had left her struggling to manage both the hotel and her own grief. They had perished in a tragic carriage accident three years prior, a collision that had occurred on a bitterly cold winter’s night. Gilly’s parents had been driving home from a visit to a neighboring town when their carriage skidded on an icy patch, crashing into a tree. They had died instantly, leaving Gilly to care for the Rosewood Hotel and her younger sister, Nora.
Nora, then just fifteen, had survived but with devastating injuries. The accident had left her paralyzed from the waist down. The once bright and lively girl was suddenly confined to a wheelchair, her dreams of a carefree youth shattered. The transition had been brutal for her, and Gilly had done her best to support her sister through physical therapy and the emotional turmoil of their new reality. However, Nora’s spirit had dulled considerably, sinking into a deep melancholy that Gilly struggled to pull her out of.
The harsh winter weather only compounded Nora’s isolation. The bitter cold made it difficult for Nora to venture outside, and the dwindling number of guests at the Rosewood added to the strain. Gilly had tried to encourage her sister, but every attempt seemed to fall short. The pressure of keeping the hotel afloat while caring for Nora felt like a relentless storm, one that Gilly struggled to weather.
The thought of her parents, who had been so full of life and promise, now seemed a distant memory. Gilly felt a pang of guilt for not being able to provide the happiness and stability Nora deserved. The responsibility of caring for her sister while managing the hotel’s financial woes was a crushing load, especially with the added threat of Jack Walcott’s rival hotel.
The storm outside intensified, reflecting the turmoil inside her heart. Gilly wiped away a tear and took a deep breath.
Gilly turned her attention back to the ledger book, her brows knitted in concentration. The dim light of the oil lamp flickered as she opened the book to the latest entries, the pages filled with rows of neatly written figures and notes. She set her mind to the task of finding a way to cut costs or increase revenue, though the challenge seemed nearly insurmountable.
Hours passed as she wrestled with the numbers, desperately searching for solutions. Her employees depended on her. The old hotel needed maintenance. Coal was necessary to fight the bitter cold. There seemed to be no place where she might cut cost. A new promotional campaign would only put her deeper in debt. The solution seemed as elusive as the storm clouds outside.
Gilly jotted down some potential promotional ideas: discounts for extended stays, special holiday packages, or perhaps hosting a local event to attract more guests. She even contemplated offering a free night’s stay to a prominent figure in town who might spread the word about the Rosewood. However, she was acutely aware that any such promotions would require upfront costs that she could ill afford.
Hours passed as she continued to wrestle with the numbers, her frustration growing with each failed attempt. The solution seemed as elusive as the storm clouds outside. She felt a heavy weight on her shoulders, knowing that no matter how hard she worked or how many ideas she generated, the challenges facing the Rosewood Hotel remained daunting.
As the night wore on, the room grew colder, and Gilly’s hope began to wane. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to keep Rosewood.
But if she didn’t, where would she and Nora go? What would happen to them? And what about all the staff that depended on them?
There was only one real hope, and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to think of it as real yet.
Gilly was absorbed in her ledger when she heard the faint sound of wheels on the wooden floor outside her office. She glanced up to see her younger sister, Nora, rolling into the room with Rosie at her side. With the wheelchair half broken, Nora went even more slowly than before. Nora’s face, framed by her dark curls, was a mixture of determination and weariness. The wheelchair’s wooden wheels made a soft, rhythmic pattern as it moved.
“Morning, Gilly,” Nora greeted with a faint smile. Despite the effort she put into her words, there was a noticeable fatigue in her voice. The chill of the early December air seemed to have seeped into her bones, mirroring the melancholy that had settled over her since the accident.
Gilly quickly straightened up, her expression shifting from concerned to cheerful. She tried to pretend that she hadn’t been sitting up all night, staring at figures until her eyes blurred. “Good morning, Nora! Rosie. How are you both this morning?”
Rosie gave a warm, if slightly tired, smile. “Morning, Gilly. We just thought we’d come in and see how you’re holding up. The storm looks like it’s going to be a bad one. Were you…in here all night?”
Gilly nodded, trying to shake off the anxiety she felt about the hotel’s precarious situation. She ignored Rosie’s second question. “Yes, it does seem like we’re in for quite a storm. But we’ll manage. We always do.”
Nora wheeled herself over to a nearby chair and positioned it so she could face Gilly directly. She glanced around the office with a faint trace of curiosity, but said nothing about the piles of bills and the open ledger sprawled across the desk.
Rosie hovered near the door, a supportive presence, her gaze flickering between the two sisters. “I was just telling Nora that we should make sure to stock up on more firewood before the storm hits,” Rosie said, attempting to keep the conversation light. “I’m sure the fire will be the only thing keeping us all warm over the next few days.”
Gilly chuckled softly, though her laughter didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That sounds like a good plan. I’ve been meaning to check the supplies myself.”
Nora’s smile faded slightly as she glanced at her sister. “Gilly, I’m sorry to trouble you, but could you maybe check on the blankets in my room? I think we might need a few extra ones.”
“Of course,” Gilly said, masking her unease behind a mask of cheerful determination. “I’ll make sure to bring them by later.”
With a slight nod, Nora started to wheel herself toward the door. “Thank you, Gilly. I think I’ll just rest for a bit.”
As Nora disappeared down the hallway, Rosie lingered in the doorway, her expression growing more serious. She closed the door behind her, casting a long look at Gilly. “Can we talk for a moment?”
Gilly’s heart sank at the gravity in Rosie’s tone. She gestured to a chair beside her desk. “Of course. Have a seat.”
Rosie sat down; her hands clasped together nervously. “It’s about Nora. I’m worried about her, Gilly. She’s been withdrawing more and more lately. It’s like she’s shutting herself off from everyone.”
Gilly’s smile faltered, her brow furrowing in concern. “What do you mean? She seems to be getting by, doesn’t she?”
Rosie shook her head. “It’s not just about getting by. She’s isolating herself. She’s convinced herself that she’s a burden, and it’s affecting her more than you might realise. The other day, she asked me to leave her alone and just stay in her room. She won’t join in with us anymore, not even during meals. Haven’t you noticed?”
Rosie sighed softly, her gaze dropping to her lap. “I know she’s tired, but this isn’t just about fatigue. She’s feeling unneeded and useless. She sees us going about our daily lives and feels like she’s in the way. I tried to comfort her, but she just keeps insisting that we’re better off without her.”
Gilly’s heart ached at the thought. “I didn’t realize it was that bad. I thought she was just adjusting, trying to find her place again.”
“It’s more than just adjustment,” Rosie said gently. “She’s struggling with a lot of emotions, and she’s afraid of being a burden. It’s important for us to show her that she’s not, that she’s still an important part of our lives.”
Gilly looked down at the floor, her thoughts racing. She had been so preoccupied with the hotel’s financial troubles and the threat from Walcott’s new hotel that she had overlooked the depth of Nora’s distress. The realization hit her like a cold wave, making her shiver.
“I’ll talk to her,” Gilly said quietly, determination setting in her voice. “I’ll make sure she knows how much she means to us. I won’t let her feel like she’s a burden.”
Rosie gave a small, relieved smile. “Thank you, Gilly. I know she’ll appreciate it. She needs to hear that she’s loved and valued, especially now.”
Gilly nodded, her resolve firm. As Rosie stood to leave, Gilly remained seated, her mind already racing with ways to reach out to Nora, to show her sister that she was far from a burden. The weight of her responsibilities felt even heavier now, but she knew she had to balance her concerns for the hotel with her commitment to her sister’s emotional well-being.
Something had to change.
Hello my dears, I hope you were intrigued by the preview of this lovely story and can’t wait for the rest of it! I will be waiting for your thoughts here! Thank you! 🥰