Molly's Christmas Miracle Read online

  Molly’s Christmas Miracle

  Cheryl Wright

  Molly’s Christmas Miracle

  (Previously Published in the Christmas Wishes: Where Wishes Do Come True Box Set)

  Copyright ©2020

  by Cheryl Wright

  Cover Artist: Black Widow Books

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book

  Thanks

  Thanks to my very dear friends (and authors), Margaret Tanner and Susan Horsnell for their enduring encouragement.

  Thanks also to Alan, my husband of over 45 years, who has been a relentless supporter of my writing for many years.

  And last, but by no means least, I must thank all my wonderful readers who encourage me to continue writing these stories. It is such a joy to me, knowing so many of you enjoy reading my stories. I love writing them as much as you love reading them.

  Chapter One

  Fools’ Chance, Montana - 1880

  Molly Mason was fed up.

  She was sick of being passed over by men folk in Fool’s Chance. Sick of not being asked to the dance, and over being one of the few spinsters left in town.

  Could she help it if she had to work long hours? Or if she was the best seamstress for miles around?

  As much as that sounded vain, Molly knew it was true.

  She did her job more than well, and people came from outlying towns to use her services. When she’d inherited the store from her aunt, she was already an accomplished seamstress. Aunt Rose sent for her when Molly’s mother had died and she was the impressionable age of eleven.

  The day she arrived in Fool’s Chance, her education began.

  Aunt Rose insisted she attend school, she wouldn’t have it any other way. But after school, Molly was in the store, soaking in as much as her young mind would absorb.

  Back then, the town was much busier. With the promise of gold to be found, families flocked to the tiny town of Fool’s Chance. As the name implied, they were Fool’s Chance – of finding their own pot of gold.

  Very few did. But they’d been here so long they decided to call the place home. The womenfolk, fed up with living in tents, insisted their husbands build houses for them.

  Aunt Rose knew an opportunity when she saw it, and opened up her little store. Making custom gowns for the ladies of Fool’s Chance quickly became her livelihood. And she thrived on it.

  Her husband had passed on some years earlier, and Aunt Rose was struggling to survive. She’d always made her own clothes, and decided that was the path she would take.

  Molly adored working at the shop. Loved the smell and the feel of the fabrics. Sometimes she would brush her cheek against them, especially if she was feeling low.

  Aunt Rose’s pride and joy, her sewing machine, sat in the back of the store. Her uncle gifted it to her when she’d opened the store. He owned a clothing factory in the city back then, and this particular machine was at the end of its factory life. He figured if she got even a few years from it, Rose would be happy. Many years later it was still going strong. Countless beautiful gowns had been created on that little cast-off sewing machine.

  Molly glanced up as the little bell over the door tinkled. Miss Hadie Winsome from nearby Ellisdale smiled at her. “Time for a new gown, Molly,” she said, heading for the most expensive rolls of fabric in the store.

  As much as she knew her state of spinsterhood wouldn’t go away any time soon, the distraction was a welcomed relief.

  * * *

  Molly had a mouthful of pins.

  This was a first fitting for her repeat customer. She glanced at Hadie and sighed. “Please stand still, Miss Winsome. This needs to be accurate.”

  Every year without fail, she arrived to be fitted for a new ball gown. Molly was sure Hadie saw herself as the belle of the ball. The Christmas Gala ball that was.

  Fool’s Chance had never held a ball to her knowledge, and she wondered if it wouldn’t be fun to have one. Perhaps next year? It was surely too late this year to be organizing an event such as this.

  Besides, where would it be held?

  The Fool’s Chance church hall wasn’t very large, but then again, the township didn’t have a lot of citizens.

  She sighed again. Wishful thinking, especially coming from a spinster such as herself. But then again, Hadie was a spinster too. Perhaps she was hoping to pick up a husband at the ball?

  “Is it fun,” she asked out of the blue, already wanting to take her words back. What her customers did was none of her business.

  “Is what fun, Molly?” the other woman asked, totally perplexed. Then realization dawned. “Oh, the ball do you mean?”

  Molly nodded, her mouth once again full of pins. “It’s magical,” Hadie said dreamily. “It’s always decorated for Christmas, with colorful decorations everywhere, giving it a real Christmas feel. The floor of the ballroom is always highly polished, making it easy to glide along the floor with gentlemen who are looking for a wife.”

  “It sounds wonderful.” Molly glanced at the woman standing next to her. “I wish we could hold a ball here in Fool’s Chance,” she said, knowing it would never happen.

  “Pffft,” Hadie said, waving her hand about. “Fool’s Chance is far too small to hold a ball. It takes a lot of effort. Besides, where would you have it?”

  It was as though she’d read Molly’s thoughts. “I wondered the same myself,” Molly said, then went back to pinning the waistband of Hadie’s ballgown.

  The little bell over the door tinkled, and Molly put her head around the doorway of the fitting room. “I won’t be a moment,” she called out.

  “That’s fine. We can wait.”

  Molly startled at the masculine voice. It was rare to have men enter her domain. In fact, this was probably a first. Generally the men left their wives at the door, arranging to come back when they were done.

  She carefully helped Hadie out of the gown, ensuring all the pins stayed in place. She glanced at her diary. “Same time Friday,” she asked her favorite customer.

  Hadie nodded and was added to the diary. Molly was meticulous about her bookings. It would never do to overbook – each customer deserved their own special time.

  She helped the other woman into her thick coat and handed the reticule to her, then walked her to the front door. Acknowledging her new customers on her way.

  “Thank you, Molly. You’re a miracle worker,” Hadie said, giving her a quick hug, and then she was gone.

  “I’m so sorry for keeping you,” Molly told the newcomers. “I’m Molly Mason, and I’m the owner and seamstress of this store.”

  The young gent reached out and shook her hand. She felt warmth at his touch despite the cold weather. “I’m very pleased to meet you,” he said, sounding like he meant it. “I’m Daniel Emerson, and this is my sister Eloise.” He indicated the young woman standing next to him, and she did a little curtsy.

  “I’m very pleased to meet you both,” Molly said, wrenching her hand back. She wriggled her fingers, endeavoring to stop the current surging through them.

  “My sister requires a ball gown. We were told you’re the best, and so here we are.” He straightened his shoulders and stood tall, no doubt waiting for her to respond.

  She watched as Eloise glanced about the store, studying the various materials. Her eyes fell on a roll of velvet in the deepest of purple.

  Molly screwed up her face.

  “You don’t like that one?” Mr E
merson asked.

  Molly checked herself. She must stop doing that – Aunt Rose was forever griping when she did it. Especially when customers were around.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” She walked over to a roll of cobalt blue silk. “This one,” she said confidently. “It will bring out the color in your sister’s blue eyes.”

  Eloise reached out and touched it. “It’s soft and pretty. I like it.” She smiled for the first time since entering the store.

  Mr Emerson grinned at her. “You know your stuff.”

  It was a statement, not a question, but Molly answered anyway. “Of course I do, Mr Emerson,” she said a little huffy. “I trained for many years to do this work. I listen to the requests of my customers, but try to guide them to fabrics that will compliment them.”

  “Daniel, please.” Eloise looked exasperated at her brother’s comments.

  He turned to Eloise. “Are you happy? Do you wish to go ahead?”

  She nodded. “Can I book in for a fitting?”

  She asked the question so softly, Molly almost missed it, but snatched up her bookings diary. “Are you in Fool’s Chance long?” she asked. “I can do a fitting Monday next week at 10am if that works. Otherwise it will be another week I’m afraid.”

  Eloise’s face dropped. “But I need it for the Christmas Gala.” She turned to her brother. “What am I going to do?” Tears began to well in her eyes, and Molly felt bad.

  It was always busy at this time of the year. The young women hoping to find themselves a husband left it to the last minute. Every year without fail.

  “I’m really sorry,” Molly said, genuinely upset for Eloise. “It’s always like this in November. It’s the Christmas Gala,” she added, trying to explain.

  “Thanks anyway.” Daniel Emerson sounded deflated, and turned to leave, guiding his sister toward the door. He suddenly stopped. “Would it help if I paid you a bonus?”

  Molly stared at him. Didn’t he realize it was a matter of time, not money?

  “The thing is, we lost our parents in a stagecoach accident recently, and this was meant to cheer my sister up.”

  Molly swallowed down the emotion that hit her in the gut. She knew what that felt like.

  “We’ve only recently found out about the ball.” He was asking for something totally unselfish, something to take away his sister’s sadness.

  He turned away, the sorrow evident on his face.

  “Wait!” Molly called to his back before her brain kicked in. Her heart beat rapidly. She had no idea how she would pull this off, but she had to find a way. “Can you come back tomorrow morning at seven? I’ll try to work something out.”

  He stared at her momentarily, then grinned. “Really? My goodness, you are terrific. Thank you on behalf of my dear sister.” Daniel stepped forward and gave her a gentle hug.

  It startled her, but she liked the feel of his arms around her.

  “My goodness,” he said, sounding shocked. “I do apologise. I’m just a little overwhelmed and quite excited. Thank you,” he said, taking her hands, which were dwarfed by his. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” He exited the shop, and tipped his hat to her as she watched him through the front window.

  What on earth had she gotten herself into?

  Chapter Two

  Molly stared at her booking diary. She wasn’t sure how she would pull this off.

  She normally started at eight, and allocated the first hour of the day to tidying and cleaning her work room.

  That was, unless there was a pressing booking.

  There were always threads on the floor and bits of material everywhere. It was an endless task, but Aunt Rose had taught her early on to ignore the mess, and continue on. If she sacrificed her clean up time, she would be able to fit Eloise in.

  Besides, much of that hour was her down time where she had a coffee and prepared herself for the busy day ahead.

  Instead of closing up shop, Molly picked up the broom and began to sweep. She would clean now, and not have to worry in the morning.

  She nodded her head. That was a much better idea. That way she could devote a whole hour to finding out what Eloise wanted, and deciding on a design for her. The material was already chosen – unless her new customer changed her mind.

  Molly snatched up the broom and shovel and swept the loose threads into the rubbish. She dusted around her sewing machine, then went into the main part of the shop, dusting around the rolls of materials.

  Aunt Rose was always insistent they bought the best materials. Customers who attended this store knew they were buying the best quality, and deserved it.

  The cobalt blue silk she’d suggested for Eloise was one of the most expensive in the store. She already had a design in mind – one that would highlight the young woman’s best features.

  She picked up her sketch pad and pencil and began to sketch out a design. With wide shoulders, and a high cut neckline, she was sure Mr Emerson would approve. The bodice would taper down to accentuate the waistline, but wouldn’t be too cozy. She was sure he wouldn’t approve of that.

  Below the waist the dress would fan out into an A-line style.

  She sat back and stared at her sketch. Her heart skipped a beat. This would be one of her best designs, she was sure of it.

  Molly pulled down the carved wooden box left to her by her mother. It was where she kept all her ribbons and embellishments for her creations.

  There would surely be something here to accentuate the gown she’d just created. It needed to be simple and elegant, but couldn’t overtake the gown itself.

  Eloise Emerson was a beautiful young woman, and this gown needed to suit her perfectly.

  Molly set up her workstation ready for the seven a.m. meeting, then blew out the lantern. The moonlight filtering through the front window was always enough for her to see her way out.

  She locked the front door, and stared at her window dressing. The dresses displayed there were made by her dear Aunt Rose.

  She could have changed them, there was no doubt, but Molly left them there to remind herself of her roots.

  Without her precious aunt, Molly wouldn’t be doing the thing she loved best.

  Her eyes skimmed the window until they found the name painted across the glass. A Stitch in Time. Aunt Rose sure had a way with words.

  The name suited the business perfectly. A faint smile came to her face remembering her dear aunt and the first day she arrived into her care.

  They were virtual strangers. Molly had already been shoved from one relative to another, until Aunt Rose put a stop to it.

  Her aunt closed up the shop for a whole week, and collected her. She had enough clothing to get her through the return trip, but that was all. Aunt Rose vowed to make Molly a whole new wardrobe, and she did.

  She began work almost the moment they arrived back in Fool’s Chance.

  Molly reached out and traced the words with her fingers. Her eyes welled with the memories, and she brushed at her eyes, trying to force the tears back.

  She occasionally had supper at the diner, but she wouldn’t tonight. She didn’t feel like much anyway.

  Molly made her way to the middle of town, and the wishing well. It was said to have magical powers, but she knew that was just a fallacy.

  It did however, seem to have some pull on her. When she was feeling low, Molly would make her way to the wishing well and sit on the side of it, careful to hold on tight in case she slipped backwards.

  No one would ever know she was there, and she would be gone forever.

  She slowly walked toward the well, lifting her skirts to stop the sleet dirtying the edges. December would be here soon enough, and the snow would settle in.

  At least they had another few weeks before that happened. When the snow arrived, the cold would really set in.

  Then the fireplace in the fitting room would be burning at full steam. It got quite cold back there otherwise.

  Molly arrived at the wishing well and sat on its
edge. She contemplated her life, wondering if she would be a spinster forever.

  She shook herself – she couldn’t afford to think that way. She looked to the sky and glanced at the moon. Tonight was as full moon, and Molly always found herself reminiscing when the moon was full.

  She wasn’t sure what caused it, but it seemed to always have that affect on her. She turned and looked down into the water. The reflection of the moon drew her in, she couldn’t look away.

  A sound behind her startled Molly, and she quickly stood, falling backwards as she did, until two strong hands grabbed her and halted her greatest fear - tumbling into the well.

  Her heart beat rapidly, and she put her hands to her chest. She could have easily fall in. She could have drowned.

  She stood dazed. “Are you alright, Miss Mason?” She glanced up to see Daniel Emerson standing in front of her. He looked rather concerned.

  For her. For her safety.

  “I, I, I’m a bit stunned, is all.”

  His hands fell to his sides, but she could still feel the heat where they’d held her.

  “Take deep breaths,” he said, leading her over to a bench seat. “You’re probably in shock.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m really sorry,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to startle you. My sister fell asleep, so I decided to take a stroll around town.”

  “I was heading home to make supper.” She began to stand.

  He stood with her. “Allow me to buy you supper at the diner.”

  “I, I couldn’t. Besides I have eggs and bread at home – it’s all planned.”

  He stared at her. “Eggs and bread? That is no supper for a lady who works as hard as you do. I insist on buying your supper.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. It’s not right.” And it wasn’t. This was a man she’d only met today.

  His eyes looked pained. “Perhaps look at it as a thank you for helping my sister.”