Prologue

Mapleford, Georgia — 1880

As Lily-Rose sat in one of the familiar wooden pews, she squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could. The thin layer of her eyelids was the only thing stopping the onslaught of tears that threatened to spill as she reminisced on the last year. Over the course of just twelve months, she had lost nearly everything.

A bittersweet smile graced her lips as she reminisced on exactly that: all she had lost. The background noises around her faded away as she thought about her mother. Lily-Rose could practically hear the soft, tinkling sound of Sarah’s laugh. It had been an ever-present sound in the Bellamy house for as long as Lily-Rose could remember.

Her mother’s laugh was joined by the rich aroma of her father’s cigars. It was one of Lily-Rose’s favorite smells as a child—not because she particularly liked the scent, but because it meant her father had come home. She would run downstairs the moment she caught a whiff of the smoke.

Lord, I want to thank you for the time you gave me with them, she prayed silently. But… I beg you to provide me with the strength to continue without them. I’ve never felt so lost and uncertain. The world feels dark, and I… I need your light.

Finally, one of the pesky tears escaped. Lily-Rose reached up to swipe it away quickly. She stood from the pew, smoothing her skirt out and heading toward the door. She wrapped her hand around the knob but didn’t open the door yet. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes fell on the pew she had been sitting in moments earlier.

She still wasn’t accustomed to not seeing her parents sitting there, as the other patrons eagerly sought out her father. Despite having the busy schedule of a mayor, Samuel Bellamy would sit and speak with everyone for as long as it took.

Another tear slid down her cheek, and Lily-Rose turned away. Carefully situating her hat back atop her head, she opened the door and stepped into the sunlight. It was in direct contrast to the dark cloud that hung over her heart.

***

On the way home, she did her best to pull herself out of the deep throes of grief. She’d always thought their home was beautiful—a broad brick building with tall windows. The Bellamys had made a frequent habit of sitting out on the wraparound porch, swaying gently in the rocking chairs as they chatted and looked at the night sky. Sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, she still saw the echo of her parents sitting there, grinning and laughing.

Upon opening the front door, she instantly felt lighter. Not only from the excited barking that greeted her as she did, but from the comforting aromas. Mixed with the usual scent of polished wood, the air was thick with the scents of peaches and cinnamon.

Lily-Rose set her hat down and ran her fingers over a few stray curls, taming them as best she could. As she did so, the speckled mutt yipped and spun in circles excitedly.

“Oh, hello, Angel,” Lily-Rose beamed. Her boots squeaked as she stepped off the deep blue runner and knelt to scratch behind the scruffy dog’s ear. “You are a sight for sore eyes, if I’ve ever seen one.”

She straightened up, casting a forlorn glance around the foyer; she remembered how carefully her mother had chosen each painting along the wall—exquisitely detailed landscapes set in ornate gold frames. She sighed, shaking her head. Grief could make even the most beautiful thing painful.

“May?” Lily-Rose called out, following the sweet smell to the kitchen. As usual, Angel trailed one step behind her. They passed through the dining room, another reminder of what had once been. Once, the long oak table had made a fantastic setting for family dinners or parties. Now, the emptiness mocked her, as did the crocheted wall hangings she and her mother had made. The muted pinks and blues of the decorations matched the forest green cushions and oriental rug.

“Hello, Miss Bellamy!” May called back, her voice ringing out from the kitchen. “Are you hungry? This cobbler’s just about ready to eat!”

Lily-Rose rounded the corner into the kitchen, her stomach grumbling as if in response to the question. She hummed in response, the sweet smell now engulfing her. She paused in the doorway for a second, looking around at the room she’d spent so much time in growing up.

The kitchen had a different overall tone than the rest of the house; it was less ornate, but everything was still obviously high-quality.

Sunlight spilled through a wide window over the sink, glinting off the clean white walls and shelves lined with neatly labeled jars in her mother’s handwriting. A cast-iron stove squatted confidently against one wall, its surface always scrubbed clean.

Copper and cast-iron pots hung in orderly ranks along the wall, displaying subtle signs of use but taken care of. Despite their wealth, Lily-Rose’s mother had always espoused that well-worn didn’t necessarily mean uncared for.

Her eyes fell on May, always a comforting and constant presence. Lily-Rose watched as she reached into the oven, slender fingers carefully setting the dish on the counter.

“I’m starved,” Lily-Rose confirmed with a soft laugh. As she watched May lightly dab the sweat from her brow, a twinge of guilt struck her. Another week had passed, and May had worked as hard as ever, despite the major issue that arose after the Bellamys’ deaths. “And May, listen, I know I owe you a… sizable sum by now, and I promise you I’ll find a way to get it to you. I will.”

“Oh, Miss Bellamy…” May clicked her tongue and shook her head, her light blue eyes filled with nothing but kindness as she straightened the white cap settled atop her sleek, blonde hair. “Don’t you worry a thing about all that. Your father was always real kind to me, and my last day isn’t too far off.”

That was another bittersweet facet of Lily-Rose’s life. This comforting, constant presence would soon be gone. She was happy for her, truly, and she hoped that May’s betrothed treated her as she deserved. Yet, at the same time, Lily-Rose couldn’t help but lament the loss of another person she held dear.

“But May, I—”

Lily-Rose’s protest was cut off by the doorbell. Both women looked in the direction of the front door.

“Would you like me to get that for you so you can go on ahead and eat?” May offered. As nice an offer as it was, it only deepened Lily-Rose’s guilt. She quickly shook her head.

“No, that’s alright.” She waved her hand dismissively and headed back the way she came. “How’s about you cut that cobbler while I go see who it is?”

When Lily-Rose got to the door and opened it, she found a complete stranger before her. She tilted her head slightly, her eyebrows knitting together.

“Good afternoon there, Miss Bellamy,” the man said. “I’m awful sorry for showing up unexpectedly like this, but there’s a matter of… well, rather sizable importance we need to chat about.”

“And… who exactly might you be, sir?” Lily-Rose asked, her tone tinged with suspicion. She eyed the man—neatly parted, mousy-brown hair, gray-blue eyes, average height. Generally unassuming, but his impeccably tailored cream suit and gold watch chain, situated above his vest, spoke of wealth.

“Oh, now, where are my manners?” The man cleared his throat, offering Lily-Rose an apologetic smile and a tip of his hat. “The name’s Julian Hale, ma’am. I was in business with the mayor, and on account of his untimely passing, some of your father’s debts were left unsettled.”

Lily-Rose had barely processed Julian’s words when they were interrupted by Angel. The puppy peered behind Lily-Rose’s legs, growling and barking when she finally got a look at the man.

“Angel!” Lily-Rose chided, eyes widening when her dog completely ignored her command. “I am so sorry. She’s… never like this. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. Please… come inside.”

Lily-Rose wrangled Angel as Julian slipped inside, leading him toward the sitting room. When Angel still hadn’t calmed down, Lily-Rose ushered her into the backyard. She apologized once more as she walked back to the sitting room.

She’d always loved the sitting room and found it to be the perfect reading spot. The nearly floor-to-ceiling windows framed the street beyond, their glass always sparkling clear, dressed in heavy drapes pulled back with braided cords.

A matching set of upholstered chairs faced one another near the hearth, their lines proper but cushions soft. Between them stood a small table of dark wood, its surface reserved for tea service or conversation, not clutter.

The fireplace itself was marble-faced, the mantel holding only a clock and a pair of plain candlesticks.

Along one wall, a settee rested beneath a row of framed portraits—ancestors Lily-Rose never met but could see familiar features in.

She settled atop the velvet chaise, eyeing Julian. He was sitting in her father’s favorite purple armchair, and for some reason, it made her stomach churn.

“Miss Bellamy, I would like to extend my condolences,” Julian said with a slow, soft shake of his head. “And I imagine this ain’t gonna make your plight any easier, but you see, the sum your father owed me was far from paltry.”

The heavy lump in Lily-Rose’s throat made it difficult to speak, and all she could manage to choke out was a strangled, “Can’t say it does, but… a debt’s a debt.”

“I certainly must agree, but that don’t mean debts can’t be… negotiated,” Julian offered, a smile gracing his lips.

Lily-Rose felt a sense of relief dampen her growing anxiety, heaving out a sigh. It seemed like this man might be understanding of her plight, clearly more privy to her father’s volatile finances than she had ever been. “I… would certainly appreciate that, sir.”

“I sure am glad to hear that, Miss Bellamy.” His smile grew wider, eyes twinkling with an emotion Lily-Rose couldn’t quite peg. “Because it just so happens I’ve been lookin’ for a wife for some time now. It seems, with your current predicament, we may have found ourselves a simple solution to both our problems.”

Lily-Rose reeled back, eyes widening. She had expected some sort of payment plan, perhaps even selling some of her assets, not this. His smile never fell as he waited for her response. In the distance, Angel’s barking grew louder, as if she could sense Lily-Rose’s dismay even from across the house.

“Mr. Hale, I… I don’t know if I can agree to something like that.” Lily-Rose shook her head as she finally found her words. “Surely, you can understand that I can’t simply sign away my life to a stranger so suddenly.”

Something dark flashed across Julian’s features, and his smile disappeared. He stood, clearing the room until he loomed over Lily-Rose. Eyes narrowed, voice low and devoid of his previous politeness. “Then how, Miss Bellamy, do you reckon you’ll get me my money?”

Lily-Rose refused to cower, instead tipping her chin up toward him and narrowing her eyes back. “Well, I can’t say at this very moment, but I’ll find some other way, Mr. Hale.”

Julian scoffed, running his tongue across his teeth. “Can’t imagine any way an unwed woman could scrounge up $2,000 without doing something far more unsavory than marriage.”

$2,000. Lily-Rose could’ve fainted at the number. It was much higher than she’d assumed, but she’d have time to fret over it once he was gone.

Lily-Rose stood, jabbing her finger toward the foyer. “Excuse me, sir. I don’t particularly fancy your implication there, and I must ask you to leave.”

Julian continued as if she hadn’t spoken at all, letting out another mocking scoff. “Way I see it, Miss Bellamy… you ain’t in a position to be bartering. You could sell this nice home and everything inside it, and you still wouldn’t cover half of what you owe me. I’m offering you a mighty generous deal here.”

“Mr. Hale, please. I asked you to leave, and I would appreciate it if—”

Julian grabbed Lily-Rose’s arm roughly, yanking her closer. His fingers tightened hard enough that she could practically feel the bruises forming already. “I’m not done talking just yet, and you’re going to listen to what I got to say.”

“Get your hands off me!” Lily-Rose exclaimed, squirming to free herself from his hold, but Julian’s fingers tightened.

Julian cursed, lifting his free hand. Lily-Rose fought even more vigorously against his hold, but it was futile. His hand came swinging down toward her cheek, but the impact never came.

Angel’s barks pierced the air, drawing Julian’s attention toward the doorway. A blur of brown and white fluff came careening through the sitting room, followed by a cry of irritation from Julian.

He released Lily-Rose’s arm, reaching to grab the dog. Angel was quick and small enough that she avoided his attempts as she bit at his ankles. With her sharp, puppy teeth, Angel managed to distract Julian long enough for May to come rushing into the room.

“Miss Bellamy, are you okay?” May took in Lily-Rose’s distraught expression and rumpled sleeve, her eyes settling on the enraged stranger. She didn’t need further prompting to hustle over and begin shooing Julian away. “Sir, you’d best be getting on your way before I’m forced to involve the constable!”

Surprisingly, Julian obliged, but as he stormed down the porch steps, he cried over his shoulder, “Don’t go thinking this is the end of this! You got one week, Miss Bellamy! One week, and I’ll be back for what you owe me!”

Lily-Rose returned to the sitting room in a daze, her hand settled atop her rapidly beating heart. Glassy-eyed, she scooped Angel up, holding her close as she sank against the chaise once more.

May appeared shortly after, unbuttoning Lily-Rose’s collar and dabbing at her forehead with a cold rag. Lily-Rose recounted what happened with Julian to May, her eyes averted.

“How… how did Angel get inside?” Lily-Rose mumbled, finally looking into May’s worried gaze.

“Well, I was outside hanging the washing, and she was barking up a storm! I figured it’d be best to let her in, and I was sure glad I did when I heard all the hollering!” May explained. “I never seen her run so fast! Came straight to you!”

Her father’s voice echoed in Lily-Rose’s mind. When he’d gifted Lily-Rose the puppy shortly before his death, he insisted she be named Angel, imparting a message to Lily-Rose.

“Best to call her what she is. She’s no regular dog. She’ll watch over you when I can’t.”

With May’s departure rapidly approaching and her world changing for the worse each day, Lily-Rose felt blessed that she had Angel as her guardian angel.

“What am I going to do?” Lily-Rose mumbled, more to herself than to May.

“Maybe I could help. What exactly happened here?” May asked gently, furrowing her brow. “Who was that man?”

Lily-Rose sighed, wincing as she explained the situation to one of her few trusted confidantes. As she spoke, May’s eyes widened, and she clutched her free hand to her chest. When Lily-Rose concluded, silence fell between them for a minute before May finally broke the quiet.

“I might have an idea,” she exclaimed, tucking the cloth into her apron pocket and excusing herself for a moment.

May returned with the newspaper in hand, lightly clearing her throat as she read aloud. To Lily-Rose’s surprise, it was an ad from a 31-year-old widower named William Saint who owned a large, successful farm in Wildflower Hollow. He was seeking a wife, someone to help with the domestic duties around the farm.

“He lists the qualities he would like in a wife,” May said, looking at Lily-Rose. “‘Kind-hearted with Christian values and a knack with children and animals’. That certainly sounds like you, Miss Bellamy.”

“So, I’d be running from one marriage to a stranger straight to another?” Lily-Rose asked incredulously.

May sat on the chaise, setting her hand atop Lily-Rose’s, her voice gentle and reassuring as she spoke. “Yes, but wouldn’t you rather be taken care of by a kind, wealthy man with good morals than that horrible Mr. Hale?”

Lily-Rose was silent, considering her limited options. The idea of ending up with Julian made her nauseous, but who was to say that this William Saint wasn’t worse?

“Miss Bellamy, this ad stood out to me. The moment I saw it, it did. I have this feeling that this might just be God’s plan for you,” May said after a quiet spell.

Lily-Rose opened her mouth to protest, but paused. May’s suggestion stirred something in Lily-Rose’s stomach. Logically, she should have been vehemently against the notion, but she wasn’t. For a brief moment, she glanced upwards, silently asking:

Lord, is that so? Is that your calling for me?

As soon as she finished the quick prayer, Angel barked lightly. Lily-Rose looked at the puppy, furrowing her brow. Angel reached her paw over toward the rolled paper in May’s free hand. Lily-Rose’s eyes shot up again, sending another quick prayer.

Is this a sign from you, Lord? Is this your will?

“Well, it can’t hurt to simply write a letter,” Lily-Rose finally agreed.

If it were God’s calling, it would be revealed in time. She trusted in that.

Chapter One

She barely missed him this time. If she’d been just a minute earlier, Lily-Rose would’ve arrived home at the same time a dark carriage stopped in front of the house.

By a small miracle, she turned the corner onto her street with just enough time to spot Julian climb out, ducking back the way she came. She pressed close to the fence behind her, carefully peeking out.

She held her breath as Julian loomed on the front steps, as if he might hear her somehow. Once he dropped his kind, understanding facade, he moved entirely differently—too confident, too entitled, too cocky that he would get exactly what he wanted. Unfortunately, what he wanted was her.

She watched as May cracked the door open. Julian shoved his foot in the crack, forcing her to open it properly so he could peer inside. May stood firm in the doorway, small but immovable, keeping the door firmly latched from the inside.

His attempts to force himself inside thwarted, Julian leaned in close. He invaded May’s space, his hands flexing as though itching for something to grab. Whatever he said made May’s lips press into a thin line—but she did not step aside.

They were too far away to hear, but Lily-Rose didn’t need to hear exact words to understand. His fists were clenched by his sides as he barked at May, attempting to push all the way into the house. Eventually, he grew tired of arguing with the maid, clomping back down the stairs.

Lily-Rose waited until the carriage was long gone before hurrying down the street as fast as her skirts would allow. She quickly shut the door behind her, turning the locks with a shaking hand.

Only when the bolt slid into place did Lily-Rose allow herself to sag against the wood. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She could still smell the faint hint of aftershave, a scent often left in Julian’s wake. It wasn’t a terrible scent, but it was too strong, as if he’d doused himself head to toe in it. It invaded her nose, making her nostrils itch.

“Miss Bellamy!” May greeted from the dining room. When Lily-Rose entered the room, May set down her ironing flat and looked up solemnly. “Mr. Hale was just here looking for you… again.”

“I saw him right on time to hide around the corner,” Lily-Rose explained, setting her Bible on the table. Angel came bounding into the room the moment she heard Lily-Rose’s voice. She crouched down, running her hands across the yipping puppy. Once her hands had stopped shaking, she straightened to look at May. “That’s the third time this week.”

After his one-week deadline came and passed, Julian’s visits had grown more frequent. Somehow, she’d managed to avoid him, but she could only hide for so long. Each visit chipped away at the fragile sense of safety she clung to.

And what will I do when May is gone?

That question plagued Lily-Rose more frequently than ever. What will I do when I am alone… Truly, deeply alone?

“Well, I happen to have some good news for you, Miss,” the other woman offered, as if she could read Lily-Rose’s mind. Lily-Rose suspected that was half true. May had come to learn Lily-Rose’s body language well. She reached into her apron, pulling out a letter and extending her hand to Lily-Rose.

As she took the envelope, her hands threatened to start shaking again. She inhaled a deep breath, eyes scanning the return address written in neat cursive.

Wildflower Hollow, Georgia.

In her growing desperation, Lily-Rose had continued to check the matrimony ads daily. Unfortunately, there were few reasonable prospects. She’d responded to a few others, but until now, she hadn’t heard a thing from anyone.

She’d already known who it would be from the way May had acted. When Lily-Rose wrote other letters, May had insisted she simply needed to express patience and pray. Now, it seemed her prayers may have finally come to fruition.

Lily-Rose’s letter had favored a forthcoming tone over putting on airs. She told Mr. Saint about her parents’ passing and her desire for stability. She hadn’t explicitly mentioned Julian, but she expressed the truth about her financial situation. Honesty was an important value, of course, and Lily-Rose figured it couldn’t hurt to politely convey a sense of urgency.

I understand how difficult grief is, and I am so very sorry for your predicament. Stability is something I’m looking for, too. It seems to me that God is guiding us to each other in our times of need. I hope you feel the same.

If you’re looking to become Mrs. Saint, I can provide a nice, peaceful life out on the farm. I can promise you’ll be taken care of.

I hope to meet you soon,

William Saint

Tucked behind the letter, Lily-Rose found a train ticket to Wildflower Hollow for the following week. The one-way ticket was lightweight, but as it rested in her palm, it felt like it weighed two tons. This single slip of paper represented an alternate future, but Lily-Rose was ambivalent about what that meant. Her stomach churned with a unique combination of hope and fear.

So, he was serious. He was willing to send for her without hesitation. That brought forth another question:

What would drive a man to so eagerly send for a woman? Sight unseen, at that.

She wanted to believe that it was as simple as this. His letter and intentions seemed sincere, but Julian had taught her that sincerity was often a mask for desperation.

It was risky, but what choice did she have? As of last week, the bank had informed her that her house was to be repossessed. Her previous trepidation no longer mattered. She needed an escape, and it certainly felt like God was providing her with one.

***

“All these books are going to make your trunk awfully heavy,” May said as she placed the last book in Lily-Rose’s trunk.

“Oh, I’m sure it will.” Lily-Rose laughed softly. “But it was difficult enough to narrow it down that much, so that’s as light as it’s going to get.”

May latched the trunk with a fond shake of her head, watching as Lily-Rose finished packing her carpetbag. Lily-Rose stood, casting a long look around the bedroom that had always acted as her safe space.

Her bed was tall and narrow, dressed in crisp linens and a coverlet smoothed to perfection. Many a night, her parents had sat back against the carved headboard as they read Lily-Rose their favorite Biblical tales, as well as novels.

Her wardrobe—rich mahogany—stood against one wall, its heavy doors swung open now, painfully devoid of clothing. Sunlight filtered through lace curtains that softened the light without fully surrendering privacy.

A small dressing table rested nearby, its mirror spotless, its surface nearly bare—everything neatly tucked out of sight. There were no scattered belongings, no evidence of habits left unattended. It was the last place she needed to go through and pack, its bronze knobs inexplicably cold against her fingers. When she got to the last drawer of her dressing table, her eyes grew misty when she looked inside.

Four photographs: one of each of her parents, one of them together, and one of the whole family. Beside the photos was a nice leather journal from her father. It was the last gift he’d ever given her. Lily-Rose hadn’t found it within herself to use it yet, but she hoped she’d find some use for it in Wildflower Hollow.

She took great care to pack the photos without folding or creasing them; they were the only photos she had of her parents. Finally, she slid the leather journal inside.

She composed herself, closed the clasp on her bag, and set it atop her trunk. Right on time, her carriage arrived out front. May had insisted on seeing Lily-Rose off personally and settled beside Lily-Rose as they left. Angel sat in Lily-Rose’s lap, happily sniffing the air, ready for whatever adventure her owner was taking her on.

Lily-Rose looked behind her, watching as the house grew smaller in the distance. It was the only place she’d ever known as home, and now she would likely never see it again.

The realization stung, but Lily-Rose quickly shook it off. There was no use drowning herself in more grief. She was imbued with a tentative sense of hope. Butterflies tickled her stomach, equally from nerves and excitement.

Mapleford had been her home as long as she could remember, far beyond just this house. The small schoolhouse was marked with years of joyful learning, situated near the downtown area. The town square was a place of joyous festivals and shopping with her mother. Not far from that, the humble but carefully designed church had always quietly invited her inside its sanctuary.

None of that mattered anymore. Even without the impending threat, the locations she once held dear only served to bring her pain. As they arrived at the station, Lily-Rose vowed to get on the train and never look back.

“I hope your wedding is as wonderful as you,” Lily-Rose told May, giving her a gentle hug.

“And I hope the same for you!” May grinned at Lily-Rose as they pulled apart. “From his description, Mr. Saint certainly sounds handsome.”

“All I ask is that he’s kind. Although I won’t complain none if he’s handsome.” Lily-Rose laughed. She was going to miss her banter with May, and she hoped she could find friends like her in Wildflower Hollow.

Lily-Rose and May exchanged their final goodbyes as she boarded the train. Soon enough, with Angel comfortably settled in her lap, Lily-Rose watched through the window as the train departed the station.

In a matter of hours, Lily-Rose would be home.