Prologue

Vail, Colorado. Winter, 1888

Nora Hayden rolled over as dawn light peeked in through the slit in the faded curtains. The space beside her in the bed was empty, and as she reached across, moving her hand over the white, starched sheet, it was cold to the touch.

Nora sighed softly to herself as she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her mind drifted back to those earlier years when she and Thomas had first been married. All those nights they’d stayed awake talking and dreaming of the future, and all those long, lazy mornings they’d spent tangled up together under the sheets.

Then as the years passed and the passion faded into something familiar, there were still good memories. How Thomas would let her press her cold feet against his body in the midst of winter and how in return, she’d never complained when he hogged the blankets.

Deep down, Nora knew that she should not cling so tightly to those memories, but they were all she had left. Ten years had passed, and things were different now. Broken dreams and lost promises had turned them into different people. Yet, as much as she wanted to forget, she could not. She still loved Thomas; she still yearned for his touch, his attention. Nora knew they’d been naive to think that everything would work out as they had planned, but they still had each other.

She lay in bed for a few moments longer before she threw the heavy quilt off, shivering in the cold morning air. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and gingerly stepped onto the cold floor. She walked the three steps to the dressing table and retrieved her thick woolen shawl hanging over the chair. She pulled it tightly across her body as she walked across to the window and opened the curtains. The window pane was misted with condensation and Nora reached out and wiped it away with her hand, revealing the world outside was white with frost.

Nora stayed by the window for a moment, her warm breath misting the glass again. In the part that was clear, she caught sight of her reflection. Her once-smooth brow was more lined now, and there were creases at the corners of her brown eyes. A few strands of gray were visible in her long, chocolate-brown hair. She was not a young woman anymore, and yet in her heart, she still felt like a girl.

She turned away from the window and walked over to the dresser. Inside hung her blouses, skirts, and dresses, along with Thomas’s shirts and their coats and jackets. She took out a simple white blouse and blue skirt, and in the chilly air, she dressed quickly. She put on a pair of warm woolen stockings and then her leather shoes. Once she was dressed, she made the bed, and before leaving the room, she wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders again.

Nora and Thomas had lived in the same townhouse since they were married. It was a modest property, but a comfortable one with two bedrooms, a small sitting room, a study, and a well-sized kitchen with a pantry and larder. The house was located on a quiet street near the chapel and on a Sunday morning, if you opened the sitting room windows wide, you could hear the congregation singing hymns.

She loved their little house, and Nora worked hard to make it homey and comfortable. Thomas worked at the farm supply store in town, helping with deliveries and the like. He received a modest wage, and Nora did the best she could with it, making sure that there was a good meal on the table every evening when he came home. She’d learned to budget over the years, and she was proud of the way she ran their household.

As Nora stepped out of the bedroom, she took a left down the hallway toward the kitchen. However, she hesitated for a moment as she passed by a closed door. They had always planned for the second bedroom to be a nursery. However, after ten years of trying, Thomas insisted that they stop, and the bedroom had come to symbolize not only Nora’s disappointment and grief but also her failure.

Her mother had raised her to know two things—a women’s role in the world was to care for their husband, and to have children. Nora had been the only daughter, raised in a household with five brothers, and so growing up, she’d never known anything else but caring for the men. It was just the way that things were done. Nora had always wanted children of her own, and she’d never considered that she would not be able to get pregnant. She was thirty now, and her chances of ever having a child grew slimmer with each passing day. Nora carried this burden with her always, and it drove her to be a better wife. If she could not give Thomas a family, she knew she must give him everything else.

Nora went into the kitchen and lit the fire. There was no evidence that Thomas had made himself anything for breakfast or even had a cup of coffee. It was not unusual for him to go to work early; however, he usually made himself something to eat before.

She set about her morning chores. She swept the kitchen floor, cleaned out the pantry, and prepared the bread for dinner that night. She then washed Thomas’s clothes from the day before and hung them outside the back door in the pale winter sun. After hanging up the clothes, she weeded the small vegetable garden and then replenished the coal bucket.

By the time she was done, it was already nearly midday, and Nora returned to the kitchen. She decided to surprise Thomas with lunch and put together a basket filled with bread, cheeses, fried chicken from the night before, and a bottle of ginger beer. She carried the basket down the hall to the front door, fetched her hat from the hook, and left the house.

The farm supply store was a large square building built from timber. There was a large porch out front, with various pieces of machinery on display. Nora walked up the stairs and across the porch. Through the large window, she spotted Mr. Thompson, the store’s owner. He was standing behind the solid wooden counter and holding a leather-bound ledger. He was a short man with pointed ears, and he wore spectacles that were almost always hanging off of the end of his nose.

“Morning, Mr. Thompson,” Nora said brightly as she stepped inside. “I’ve just stopped by to bring Thomas some lunch. He left for work so early he forgot to eat breakfast…”

Her voice trailed off as she saw the confusion cross Mr. Thompson’s narrow face.

“Thomas did not come into work today,” he said, pushing his spectacles up his nose. “I thought perhaps he’d stayed home to care for you.”

“For me?” Nora said in surprise, her brow creasing.

“He said you’ve been unwell lately,” Mr. Thompson explained. “He’s been late almost every morning and has been taking longer lunches—”

Nora said nothing for a moment, her mind racing. What was going on? Whatever it was, Nora was sure Thomas had a good reason.

“I am sorry,” Nora said, smiling lamely. “I have been feeling a bit off these past few weeks, and Thomas is an awful worrier. He’s probably been coming by every lunchtime to find me asleep.”

Mr. Thompson frowned but said nothing.

“I actually just remembered he told me last night he was going to come by at lunchtime and check on me,” Nora lied. “We must have just missed one another.”

“Right,” Mr. Thompson said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Well, when you see him, tell him we are behind on two deliveries.”

“I will,” Nora promised, as she kept the smile plastered to her face. “Have a good afternoon, Mr. Thompson.”

Nora hurried out of the store and back home. What was going on? She knew Thomas. He was not a liar.

“Thomas?” Nora said as she stepped back into the house.

There was no reply.

“Thomas?” Nora said. “Are you here?”

She walked down the hall, checking every room as she went, but Thomas was not there.

“Where could he be?” Nora said to herself.

For the rest of the afternoon, she stood at the sitting room window, waiting for Thomas to come home, but by the time the sun was sinking below the tree line, there was still no sign of him. All Nora could think was, what if he’d gotten involved with someone dangerous? What if someone had hurt him?

Nora made her way down the street toward the sheriff’s office. It was dusk, and the first stars were already appearing in the sky. Usually, Nora loved this time of day, but now all she could think about was Thomas.

Nora pushed open the door to the sheriff’s office and found Sheriff Benjamin Gray seated at his desk.

“Nora Hayden,” Sheriff Gray said as she stepped into his office, his dark eyes widening in surprise. “This is unexpected.”

Thomas once told Nora that he had gone to school with Benjamin. He’d been a bit of a bully back then, pulling the girls’ pigtails and stealing the teacher’s chalk. Nora never would have guessed he’d become the sheriff of their town.

“Thomas is missing,” Nora said, the color high in her cheeks.

“Missing?” Sheriff Gray said, his eyes shooting up toward his receding hairline. “Are you sure he’s not just out on a delivery?”

Nora gritted her teeth.

“No,” she said firmly. “Mr. Thompson said he didn’t show up for work today.”

Nora chose not to mention the long lunches and late mornings.

Benjamin Gray frowned. “Maybe he’s spending the day in the saloon—”

“Thomas doesn’t drink,” Nora said.

The sheriff raised one eyebrow skeptically.

“We’ve been married for more than ten years,” Nora said. “I’ve never seen him drink, not even on our wedding day.”

“Look,” Sheriff Gray said, leaning forward in his chair. “Maybe the man just needs some space, and he’s just blowing off some steam—”

“Please,” Nora said, her brown eyes pleading. “I know Thomas, and I know that something is wrong.”

Sheriff Gray sighed, sitting back again.

“All right,” he agreed. “Just go home, and I’ll make some inquiries.”

“Thank you,” Nora said gratefully.

She left the sheriff’s office and headed home. As she passed the saloon, she hesitated for a moment. Was Thomas inside? Had their marriage driven him to drink? She did not like to think that he was inside, drowning his sorrows with a bunch of strangers rather than being home with her.

Nora sighed as she turned back toward home. Her stomach was in knots as she imagined Thomas in a ditch somewhere, bleeding and in need of help.

“Thomas?” Nora said hopefully as she stepped in through the front door.

There was still no reply, and the house was dark. Nora hung her hat on the hook and headed into the kitchen. She added more coal to the fire and stoked it with the long poker. She lit the small paraffin lamp and then sat down. Usually, she’d be halfway through making supper by now, but she could not think about food; she felt hollow.

Nora did not know how long she sat at the kitchen table before there was a knock on the front door. She got up and hurried down the hallway.

She pulled open the door to find Sheriff Benjamin Gray, his hat in his hand and a rather grim expression on his face. Nora’s stomach sank to the floor.

“What is it?” she asked fervently. “Did you find him?”

“No,” Sheriff Gray said, shaking his head.

“Do you know where he is?” Nora asked, her heart pounding.

Sheriff Gray met her eyes, and he sighed. “Nora,” he said. “I am sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Thomas was seen earlier this morning leaving town with Della Sharp.”

Nora stood motionless for a moment, and then she laughed, shaking her head. That was impossible. Thomas wouldn’t have left her; he loved her.

“Nora—”

“You’re lying,” Nora said, her brown eyes wild.

“No, I’m not,” Sheriff Gray said, his eyes full of pity and sympathy.

Without a word, Nora turned and headed into the bedroom. She threw open the chest of drawers to find that some of the drawers had been cleared out, Thomas’s pants, shirts, and socks missing. She then walked over to the tall dresser; she had not noticed that morning, but some of the wooden hangers were empty.

“No,” Nora said to herself.

She kneeled and peered under the bed, but the old brown suitcase, the one she’d used to bring her things the night they were married, was gone.

“No,” Nora repeated. “He would never have left me.”

She was not aware of Sheriff Gray standing in the doorway because her whole world was spinning, and then it wasn’t; it was collapsing, and Nora was a sobbing heap on the floor.

Chapter One

Vail, Colorado. Winter, 1889

Nora stood at the kitchen window just as the first flakes of snow began to fall outside. She used to love this time of year, but nothing was the same since Thomas left. She felt empty and adrift, and Nora hated feeling this way. She hated that after everything, after being hurt and abandoned, she still missed him.

Nora sighed softly to herself before she turned away from the window. The kitchen was cold, and Nora pulled her woolen shawl around her body. She then walked over to the stove, but the coal bucket was nearly empty. She reached for the spade and placed a few coals into the grate, and as she did, there was a knock on the back door. She knew it was silly, but every time there was a knock at the door, she could not help but hope that maybe it was Thomas.

“Come in,” Nora said.

The door opened, and Charlotte Evans stepped inside. She was a short woman with dark auburn hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a woolen cap and a green shawl over her shoulders. As she came inside, she smiled at Nora, revealing a slight gap between her two front teeth.

“It’s getting colder out there,” Charlotte said, shivering as she closed the door behind her.

“Come and warm yourself by the fire, Lottie,” Nora said.

Charlotte walked across the kitchen to the fire and warmed her hands in front of the grate. There was barely any heat coming from the stove, but Nora was hesitant to put any more coals on, as what was in that bucket was all she had left.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Nora volunteered.

Charlotte and Nora had been neighbors for as long as either of them could remember.

Before Thomas had left, Nora and Charlotte had been friendly but not really friends. However, since he’d been gone, Charlotte had come by almost every day to check on Nora. Their friendship was the only good thing to come out of Thomas leaving.

“How did it go this morning?” Charlotte asked as she looked across to where Nora was filling the kettle.

Nora grimaced but did not respond right away. She’d applied for a job as a seamstress in town and had gone for the interview that morning. However, she’d arrived to find out the position had already been filled.

“I wouldn’t have been any good at it anyway,” Nora sighed, shaking her head. “My eyesight is not what it was when I was younger, and it’s a lot of delicate work—”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Charlotte said encouragingly.

Nora gave her a tight-lipped smile as she fetched two mugs from the china hutch and turned them over. Both mugs were chipped around the rim. She then reached for the tea tin, which was also almost empty, and placed a tea bag in each cup. For the past year, she’d been trying to get a job in town with no success, and it wasn’t for any one reason. She was an older woman with no work experience, and the scandal with Thomas hadn’t helped; no one in town wanted to hire her.

The kettle began to boil on the stove, and Nora fetched it, pouring the steaming liquid into the two mugs. As she did, Charlotte fetched two chairs and positioned them in front of the fire.

“Thanks,” Charlotte said as Nora handed her a mug and she sat down.

Nora mirrored her movements, taking a seat across from her as she clutched her own mug tightly in her hands.

“How’s Henry?” Nora asked as she took a sip, the tea warming her from the inside out.

Charlotte nodded, swallowing a sip of tea. “He’s fine.”

Charlotte’s husband, Henry, worked as a ranch hand on a ranch a few miles out of town. He was a good man, solid and dependable.

“Speaking of Henry,” Charlotte said, meeting Nora’s eye. “He overheard his boss having a conversation with his neighbor yesterday. He is looking for a governess for his son.”

Nora took another sip of tea but said nothing as she waited for Charlotte to continue.

“From what Henry overheard, the man is quite desperate.”

“Who is he?” Nora asked. “The rancher looking for a governess?”

Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “All Henry said was that he was the neighbor.”

Nora nodded, and for a few moments, they fell silent.

“Why don’t you go and talk to him?” Charlotte suggested. “About the position—”

“Me?” Nora said, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Why not?” Charlotte challenged. “You said that your pa taught you to read and write and about arithmetic and geography.”

“He did,” Nora agreed. “But I don’t have any experience with being a governess—”

“So?” Charlotte said. “You can cook, clean, and you are educated.”

“Yes, but I’ve never looked after a child—”

Charlotte sighed as she leaned forward in her chair. “You need to have more faith in yourself, Nora. Just go and talk with him.”

Nora frowned but said nothing.

“How about I get Henry to give me the address tonight when he gets home?” Charlotte suggested. “In case you change your mind.”

The two women fell silent for a few moments. Nora could feel Charlotte’s eyes on her, and she knew her friend was concerned for her well-being.

“Will you at least think about it?” Charlotte said.

“I will,” Nora promised.

Charlotte sat back in her chair, satisfied, and Nora turned her face toward the fire. After Thomas had run away with most of their savings and valuables, she’d managed just to scrape by, but the money would soon be gone. She needed work, but being a governess? She was not sure she would be suitable for such a position, especially considering she’d never cared for a child… not even one of her own.

***

The next day, Nora trudged through the thick snow to the general store on the main street. As she turned the corner, a snowball suddenly came out of nowhere and hit her on the arm. Nora dropped her basket in surprise.

“I am so sorry,” a young boy said, running up toward her. “That was meant for my little sister—”

Nora turned to see a little girl with blonde curls and rosy cheeks smiling up at her.

“It’s fine,” Nora assured the nervous-looking boy as she dusted the snow from her shawl.

“Benjamin! Florence! How many times have I told you not to throw snowballs in the street?”

They all turned to see a younger woman coming toward them; she had the same blonde hair as the children, but her dark brow was furrowed in disapproval.

“I am so sorry,” she apologized, reaching down and retrieving the basket and handing it to Nora.

“It’s fine, really,” Nora assured her. “No harm done.”

The woman’s shoulders relaxed a little. “I swear these two will do my head in before the winter is out. If they are not under my feet in the house, then they are pelting innocent people with snowballs!”

Nora smiled as she looked down at the two children, who were looking slightly abashed.

“Well, we’d better get going,” the woman said. “I am sorry again.”

“It’s fine,” Nora said.

“Come on, children,” she said, taking each of them by the hand. “And if you don’t stop the antics, I’ll write to Father Christmas myself and ensure you get nothing in your stockings but a lump of coal.”

Both children paled as their mother led them down the street. Nora watched them go with a mixture of amusement and sadness. How often had she wondered over the years what it would be like to have a Christmas with children? To get to hang stockings on the mantelpiece and write letters to Father Christmas? Children brought so much magic to Christmas, and yet Nora knew now that she’d never get those experiences. She would never get to threaten her children with lumps of coal or see their faces light up on Christmas morning; she would never get to be a mother.

Nora placed her empty basket on the kitchen table and sat down, dropping her head into her hands as she sighed.

The owner of the general store, Mr. Baker, had been sympathetic to her situation these past few months and had extended her credit even though she’d not paid her account. However, that morning, he’d pulled her aside and told her that he could not give her any more credit until she started paying back what was outstanding. She did not blame him, everyone was struggling, but she did not have the means to pay back what she owed.

A pile of unopened mail sat in the middle of the table, and Nora reached for the top envelope. She’d been avoiding the letters, knowing most were likely outstanding bills, but things couldn’t get much worse, could they? Nora opened the first letter, which was from the bank, and as she read the words, she wished she’d not opened it. She’d defaulted on the past three mortgage payments, and if she could not pay, they were going to foreclose on the house.

Nora put down the letter and sighed. She turned her head as she turned to the stove; the fire was almost dead. The coal bucket beside it was now empty. Outside, the snow had started falling again in flurries. Nora had really hoped this moment would not come, but she knew now, as the fire continued to fade and hunger continued to gnaw at her insides, that if she did not find a way to earn some money, she’d either freeze or starve to death, and to make things even worse, she was about to be homeless.