Chapter One
Cold Spring, New York – 1868
Molly
“Molly Angelica Thomson, you’d best not still be in bed at this hour.” A scolding voice intruded the floral images floating through Molly’s dreams. Carefully, she peeled her eyes open and glanced around at the morning light spilling into her room. The loud stomping vibrated through her room and grew louder as she propped herself up on her elbow to take in her room.
Panic jolted through her. Throwing the covers off her, Molly jumped out of bed and scrambled to clear the mess of fabric she had left scattered on the floor. It had been a long night for her, toiling over her latest fashion choice. It was a dress she had a dream about the other night, and she was desperate to bring it into her reality.
The steps grew closer as she scrambled around the room, tossing the bits of fabric into neat little piles. Molly gasped as the bedroom door flew open. Her mother, slim and elegant in her navy-blue dress, arched a suspicious eyebrow as she took in the messy room.
“What on earth have you been doing up here?” her mother scolded as she stormed into the room. “This place looks like a seamstress shop. Have some respect and dignity.”
“Sorry, Mother,” Molly’s eyes darted to the ground as she clutched the fabric in her hands. Daring to steal a peek at her mother, Molly’s grip around the fabric tightened. Swallowing hard, she found her mother’s stern expression wavering as she moved to the dress draped over the back of the chair.
“Is this a new one?” her mother asked. Molly bobbed her head and took a step closer.
“It is.” Molly held her breath waiting for her mother’s ire to return, but she noticed the way her mother’s thin lips tugged at the corners, suppressing a smile.
“You’ve outdone yourself, once again.” Her mother beamed. All the anxiety building up in Molly’s chest released, and she rolled her shoulders back as pride consumed her. “But your room is a frightful mess. Whatever am I going to do with you? And you’re not even dressed for the day. Don’t you have any sense of time?”
“It was a late night getting that done.” Molly’s voice was barely a whisper, but her chest tightened as she looked at the way her mother adored her newest creation.
“Priorities,” her mother said with a curt expression. “Now. Get dressed and let’s start the day. You’ve got twenty minutes before Mr. Parker will be here.”
Molly dropped her shoulders. “That’s today? Do I really need piano lessons? I’m not very good at it.”
“All the more reason why you need them,” her mother said curtly. “And I don’t want to hear another word about it. I’ll not have my only daughter unskilled.”
“I have skills,” Molly said, glancing at the dress. Creating and designing dresses filled Molly with a sense of pride. She loved the way the fabric sashayed between her fingers as she put it to the sewing machine. She adored the low hum of the needle as it punctured through the fabric, stitching up the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.
“That’s all fine a dandy, but men are not interested in a woman with rough hands, or purple bags under their eyes,” Molly’s mother said as she moved to Molly. Studying her mother’s face, Molly knew her mother wasn’t going to really scold her for staying up late. Nor would she be droning on about all the qualities that make a good wife.
“Molly, you’re eighteen,” her mother sighed as she cupped her hand to Molly’s face. Molly leaned into the embrace, letting her mother’s soft embrace fill her heart. “I don’t want to see you ending up as an old maid.”
“I’m not going to end up an old maid,” Molly reassured her mother.
“You might if you come downstairs looking like you do,” her mother said. “Now get dressed. I expect you to be ready before the tutor comes to call.”
Molly nodded and her mother’s hand slipped off her face as she turned and left the room. Setting the fabric down, Molly hurried to get ready. She slipped out of her nightgown and glanced over her shoulder at the new dress she made. A smile slithered across her face as she found herself eager to model her new dress.
The fabric was smooth on her skin and the bright blue matched the color of her eyes. Molly stopped and studied the design in the mirror in the corner of her room, as she admired the way her hand slipped down the smooth silk fabric. Her long blond locks flowed over her shoulder and framed her face. She grabbed her loose flowing hair and made quick work with it, fashioning into a loose braid that hung down over her right shoulder.
“That’ll have to do,” Molly said, stealing one more look at herself. The chime of the doorbell caught her ear, and she scurried from the room just as her mother pulled open the front door.
“Mr. Spark, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” her mother said as Molly stepped lightly down the stairs. Mr. Spark craned his neck and caught Molly’s eye. Her heart drummed in her chest. The piano wasn’t something Molly cared for. She never understood why anyone would want or need such a talent.
“Mrs. Thomson,” Mr. Spark said with a tip of his hat. He strolled into the foyer and discarded his jacket and hat.
“I hope we have a willing participant today?” Mr. Spark said as he glared sternly at Molly.
“You’ll find her accommodating today, I’m sure,” Mrs. Thomson said.
“To the sitting room then?” Mr. Spark said as he extended his hand. Molly gave a simple curtsy as she glanced at her mother for a bit of reassurance. She didn’t like the way Mr. Spark smelled. He had a constant odor of cigar smoke that made Molly gag, and while he tried to mask it with spearmint, it only added to Molly’s nausea.
“Behave, and I’ll let you go into town for more fabric,” Mrs. Thomson whispered as Molly strolled by to meet Mr. Spark in the sitting room. The consolation prize was more than Molly had expected, and her face lit up. There was no other place that brought her more joy than the small shop next to the grocer. Her mind raced through all the different colors and designs she could make. It made sitting next to Mr. Spark a bit more bearable.
With the lesson finally over, Molly sighed with relief. She let her shoulders drop as she studied her tutor’s expression. It was clear by the crease in his forehead, he wasn’t pleased. He didn’t say a word as he stood. Molly rose with him, waiting for his typical scathing remarks. She chewed on her lower lip as her skin tingled with anticipation.
“You still have a lot of work to do,” he finally said with an arch to his eyebrow. “But at least you are improving. Even if it is at a snail’s pace.”
Molly nodded and watched as he turned on his heel and left the room. Glancing around, Molly waited for the front door to click shut before rushing into the kitchen to find her mother. Molly’s heart pounded with excitement. Going into town was one of her favorite pastimes and now that her chores were done, she needed permission before leaving.
Molly stopped at the doorway of the kitchen and let out a heavy sigh. The only people in there were the scullery cook, Mrs. Jones and the butler, Mr. Martin, who looked up with a shocked expression from his newspaper.
“Where’s Mother?” Molly asked as she double-checked the room.
“She’ll be in the study with your father,” Mrs. Jones answered as she wiped her hands off onto her apron. Quickly, Molly turned on her heel and made a beeline for her father’s study. The door was cracked and hushed voices poured out of the room causing Molly to stop in her tracks.
“I just don’t see how we can afford that.” Molly’s father’s husky voice caught Molly’s ears. She held her breath and leaned in closer. Fear gripped her. She knew if she were caught listening, she’d get in trouble, but she had never heard her father so disheartened.
“Surely there must be something we can do?” Her mother’s voice was calm. “Perhaps sell a few parcels of land? We have so much of it, surely there would be a buyer somewhere who would want it.”
“You want to split up Molly’s inheritance? No. I won’t hear of it. This land has been with our family since the first colony established itself in New York. There’s history here, and I’ll not be the reason it is squandered.”
“Then what do you propose?” Mrs. Thomson asked. Molly leaned in closer and shifted her head trying to steal a peek through the crack between the door and the frame. She let out a slow breath as she watched her mother move around the large desk in her father’s study and rub his shoulders.
Guilt ripped through her. She knew deep down; she shouldn’t be watching this. At the same time though, she found it difficult to turn away. Her family had always been well off. So much so that she had tutors come every day of the week for her training. It was an odd experience for her to listen to them squabble about finances.
Unaware of how hard she was pressing against the door, Molly’s hand slipped causing the door to move. Unable to catch herself, Molly tripped over herself and fell headfirst into the room. She lifted her head, eyes wide with fright and embarrassment, she gawked at her parents, wishing she hadn’t been snooping.
Quickly regaining herself, Molly stood and brushed her hands off on her dress as she refused to stare at either of them.
“How long have you been out there?” Her father’s voice was kind and inquisitive. Molly swallowed as she dared to steal a glimpse at them.
“I just arrived,” Molly answered. “Mr. Spark has left, and I thought…”
Molly’s attention shifted to her mother as she held her breath. She had hoped to still be able to go into town, yet doubt curled around her chest.
“Go on then,” Mrs. Thomson answered as her father’s face scrunched with uncertainty. “I told Molly she could go into town after her lessons.”
Mr. Thomson gave a small nod as his eyes examined Molly a moment longer. “Is that a new dress?”
“Yes, Father.”
Molly suddenly felt guilty and insecure in her lovely new outfit. She’d poured hours of her day into creating it and the idea that her father might disapprove of it sent a chill rushing through her.
“You’ve outdone yourself,” he said with a hint of a smile. Molly beamed at the compliment.
“Thank you, Father,” Molly said as heat touched her cheeks.
“Go on then, and be sure you’re back before dark,” he said. Molly gave her mother a quick glance for approval. The corner of Mrs. Thomson’s lips curled and before her parents could change their minds, Molly turned and rushed out the door.
The town was buzzing. Molly loved going into Cold Spring on Wednesdays. It was the day most of the deliveries came into the town. It also provided Molly with a chance to blend into the crowd with all the business going on.
She hurried down the sidewalk, trying not to burst into a full sprint as she noticed the wooden plaque hanging from the rafters of the shop. A smile pulled on her lips as she stepped into the shop. All the various colors of the rainbow filled her eyes. It was as if she had stepped into a small shop in heaven, seeing the fabrics shimmering in the sun’s rays. Her heart skipped as she ran her fingers over the fabrics. Some of them were smooth like butter, others, rough and scratchy.
“Miss Thomson, why am I not surprised to see you in here today?” Molly glanced over her shoulder to find Mrs. Rouge beaming at her from behind the counter.
“Anything new?” Molly asked as she walked over to the plump woman in an emerald-green dress with a white floral collar.
“Afraid not,” Mrs. Rouge answered. “We’ll get a new shipment next week. Sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Molly said trying not to be disappointed.
“I see you’ve done a remarkable job with the fabric you bought on Monday. You are quiet the seamstress,” Mrs. Rouge said with a soft smile. “It’s a skill that will serve you well later in life, I’m sure.”
“It’s just a hobby,” Molly said, “but thank you.”
“Just let me know if you find anything, and I’ll ring you up, my dear.”
Molly nodded and continued running her fingers over the fabrics, envisioning what to make with each piece. She let out a heavy sigh as she came to the back of the shop. Although she had many ideas floating around in her head, none of the fabrics screamed out at her. Resolved with the idea that she wouldn’t be bringing home anything new, Molly bid Mrs. Rouge farewell and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
The sun bore down on her as she glanced around at all the people coming and going. Feeling a bit disappointed, she took one more glimpse at the fabrics in the window before making her trek back home.
“Excuse me, miss,” a gravelly voice called from behind her. Molly paused and turned to find a skeleton of a man behind her. His face was scruffy and dirty. It looked as if he hadn’t bathed in a week. His hooded eyes were hidden by his bushy eyebrows. A cold chill raced through Molly’s body as she stared at him a moment.
“Can I help you?” she asked. The sound of his spurs echoed in her ears as he walked closer. She felt a lump of fear clogging her throat as she studied him.
“Are you Molly Thomson?” the man asked. Molly’s eyes shifted to the other people walking by as she stepped back from the man.
“Do you need something?” she asked, hunting for the nearest shop door to slip into. “If you’re looking for a drink, there’s a saloon not far from here.”
“Tell me!” he snapped as his hand darted out like a snake, his fingers curling around her arm, holding her in place.
“Excuse me,” she said, jerking her arm from his grip. Terror ensnared her senses as the man tried once again to snag her arm. Molly gasped and jumped back before his fingers could curl into her sleeve.
“Is there a problem here, miss?”
Molly sucked in quick breaths as she tried to restrain the fear coursing through her. Her wild eyes flickered to the man at her side. In the span of a heartbeat, the thin, sinister-looking man turned and raced down the boardwalk, pushing people out of his way as he fled.
“Miss? Are you alright?”
Molly curled her arms around herself as she tried to wrap her mind around what transpired. She bobbed her head as she focused on the man next to her. Mr. Wilson flashed her a weary smile, and it settled her nerves. She’d known Mr. Wilson since she was a babe. He’d worked with her father on various projects around their estate and knew she could trust him with her life.
“Do you know who that was?” Mr. Wilson asked.
Molly shook her head.
“Come on then, best get you back home,” he said.
Mr. Wilson escorted Molly back to her parents’ home in silence. She didn’t know what she was going to tell her father, or even if she should. As they walked up to the front door, Molly turned to thank Mr. Wilson, but was met with a woeful gaze.
“Would you like to come in?” Molly knew he was going to say yes, and opened the door for him before she finished her sentence.
Mr. Wilson walked into the house behind her and stood in the foyer.
“Let me go fetch my father,” Molly said and quickly rushed down the hallway to her father’s study. Rapping her knuckles lightly on the door, her father answered.
“What is it?”
Molly swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she pried open the door. “Sorry to bother you, Father, but Mr. Wilson is here to see you.”
“Oh? That’s odd. I wasn’t expecting him today,” her father said as he scooted out from behind his desk. With a soft pat on her cheek as he passed, Molly watched her father stroll down the hallway. Fear and anxiety filled her like a dark storm cloud blocking the sun. She scurried behind him and stopped before entering the foyer.
“Mr. Wilson,” Molly’s father said with an extended hand. “What brings you here?”
“I don’t want to alarm you,” Mr. Wilson said, craning his neck to find Molly lurking in the shadows of the hallway. “There was an odd man harassing your daughter in town today. I thought it best I deliver her home to you safely.”
“What’s this?” Molly flinched as her father’s head whipped around to look at her. With a wag of his finger, her father drew Molly out of her hiding place.
“Is this true?” Mr. Thomson asked as he stared at Molly.
She nodded her head, finding her voice mute under the duress. All she could do was bob her head and fiddle with her fingernails. “Yes,” she managed to squeak out.
“Do we know who the man was?” Mr. Thomson asked Mr. Wilson.
“Never seen him before. He fled before I could ask him his name. Molly is a lovely girl, and I don’t think it would be wise of you to let her roam about town on her own,” Mr. Wilson said. The warning lingering behind Mr. Wilson’s words sunk into Molly like a fishhook.
“You’re absolutely right,” Mr. Thomson said as he cupped his hands in front of him. “And come morning, I’ll be calling on the sheriff to discuss this matter further. Thank you, Mr. Wilson.”
Mr. Wilson tipped his hat and shot Molly a worrisome look before leaving. Turning the moment the door closed, Mr. Thomson stared at Molly.
“Are you alright?” he asked, concern laced every word.
“Father, what’s going on? Do you know the man who approached me?” Molly asked.
Her father shook his head and leaned in to plant a tender kiss on her forehead.
“No,” he said. “I don’t know who it was. But you’re safe now and that’s all that matters. But I’d advise you not to inform your mother of this matter. Don’t want to worry her. I’ll handle it come morning.”
Molly nodded, but deep down, a sense of dread grew like a weed within her. Something was amiss and she could feel it bubbling and brewing in the center of her being.
“From Ashes to Forever” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!
In a twist of fate, Molly’s life takes a heart-wrenching turn as a devastating fire destroys her home and family. With her world in ashes and her dreams shattered Molly is forced to reimagine her life and find her own strength. While fleeing her own birthplace where she is being hunted for being the sole survivor of the tragedy, a mail-order bride ad becomes her lifeline. Led by fate to a strange new town, her path intertwines with a mysterious man named Tobias.
Will this stranger be the answer to her problems or the beginning of more secrets?
A dedicated rancher, Tobias works tirelessly with his family, his heart closed off to the possibility of marriage after a past love left him heartbroken. His parents, longing for him to find happiness, secretly place a mail-order bride ad, fatefully bringing Molly into his life. Although Tobias agrees to court Molly for three months, an arrangement he has no intention of continuing as they spend more time together, their connection deepens, and feelings neither expect, begin to emerge.
Will this trigger painful memories of lost love, or will he be convinced that he deserves another chance at it?
Their love story flourishes amid hardship and danger, but the shadows of Molly’s dangerous past loom ominously. As Tobias and Molly work together to uncover the mysteries of her family’s tragic demise, they realize that the danger is not yet over. The question lingers: will they conquer the threats that lurk in the shadows, or will their love story remain incomplete, forever shrouded in uncertainty?
“From Ashes to Forever” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.
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! 🥰