A/N Sorry for the delay between updates ... real life keeps messing with me.

As always, many, many thanks to my friends and betas, Mandy the O and Musique et Amour.


Molly continued to stumble through the days and nights of her new existence. She neither knew nor cared what day it was; she had not been back to church since John's funeral mass. Her parents' letters went unopened and unanswered. She'd lost so much weight that her mourning gown hung limply on her too-thin body. And so it was with shock that she caught sight of her reflection one day.

She took a second look, and did not recognize the woman staring back at her. Her once beautiful, shiny auburn hair was drab; her bright face was dull; her sparkling green eyes empty. She noted the deep purplish circles under her eyes, and wondered at the gauntness she saw. I look like a walking corpse, she thought to herself. And I don't much care.

Miss Biddy's concern grew daily, but she was unsure how to broach the younger woman. She did not want to get the priest involved – what would that man know of love and loss? – and once the funeral was over, Molly's former friends avoided her. They are so ignorant! Biddy fumed. They think tragedy is contagious.


Six months after John died, the side-wheeler captain began paying special attention to the Widow Albright. Although very discreet, it soon became apparent that Capt. Will Sanford had his heart set on taking Molly to wife.

Miss Biddy realized that Will could solve their problems. He would most likely make an agreeable husband, and once Molly was gone, the lumberjacks would return to Miss Biddy's saloon. And so, with no remorse, Biddy actively campaigned for Will.

"Molly, I know that you don't think you'll ever love another man. But you're young! You have a lot of years ahead of you, do you really want to spend them hiding in my saloon?"

Molly flinched at Biddy's cold tone, but agreed to think it over. Returning to her small room, Molly contemplated her choices. I could stay here, but why should I? My friends have deserted me, and even Biddy grows tired of my presence. I could strike out on my own, but do I really want to do that? Or, I could encourage Will to court me. Why he thinks he wants me is beyond my comprehension, but … Yes. That is really the best option for me. Thus decided, Molly retired for the evening. Her last thought was, Should I feel guilty about using Will?

The next time Will came into the saloon, Molly greeted him with a sad smile. Seeing this, Biddy felt a slight twinge of guilt, but brushed it off. This is for the best for everyone concerned, she reminded herself. It serves no purpose for me to be bankrupted because the damn fools in this town can't handle the sight of the Widow Albright working as a barmaid. And, Molly is too young to be alone. Will is a good man, and he obviously loves her. Yes, this is for the best.


As the weeks went by, Molly found herself almost looking forward to Will's visits. He would be gone for three or four weeks at a time, transporting passengers and cargo between San Francisco and Seattle. He had the chance to expand his business up the coast to the far north, but he didn't want to stay away from Molly for extended periods of time. As it was, he spent nearly every waking minute in Seattle in her company at Biddy's saloon. Molly could not bear the thought of walking the same paths she and John had walked. Her heart ached at the thought of someone else living in the house he had built for her, and catching sight of the women she had thought to be friends scurrying away from her, eyes averted … no, there was little reason to leave Biddy's saloon.

And so, although he continued to sleep on his boat, Will spent most days in her company at the saloon. He courted her slowly; careful not to push the grieving young woman. He brought her small gifts to let her know that even when he was out at sea, he thought of her.

Molly had heard the excited ruckus when Will's side-wheeler was spied coming into Seattle, and she realized that even as she served the customers, she was keeping an eye out for his appearance. The evening wore on, and still no Will. Closing time came, and Molly helped Biddy clean the bar. Finally, Molly realized that he was not coming to see her that night. Biddy, seeing the hurt and disappointment on Molly's face, hugged the younger woman. "You know he's busy when he first comes into port. He'll be here first thing tomorrow morning … mark my words!"

Molly smiled sadly as she returned Biddy's hug. "I know, you're right. I'll be fine."

Biddy shook her head as Molly bade her good night. Sleep well, my dear. Will is a good man, and he loves you.


The next morning, Molly grimaced as she pulled on her black dress. I'm so tired of wearing black! This dress is awful – I'm too young to be a widow. Instantly ashamed of herself, she silently apologized to John. I miss you so badly. Oh, John … She closed her eyes against the pain, then, taking a deep breath, finished dressing and left her room.

As usual, she was the first one up. She stoked the fire in the wood stove, then began preparing breakfast. She moved woodenly through the motions, unwilling to dwell on her pain. Does no good to sit around and mope, she reminded herself once again. She started as she realized someone was pounding on the back door.

She slowly opened the door to see a grinning Will standing there, with his arms behind his back. She smiled at him as relief flooded through her. "Good morning, Will! I was just fixing breakfast … would you like to come in?"

"Good morning, Miss Molly!" he exclaimed. "Something sure does smell good," he remarked as he walked through the door. Molly was still smiling as she closed the door behind him.

"Well, you're in luck. Nobody else is awake yet, and I'm afraid I'm cooking enough to feed a small army." She returned to the stove to check the pots and was relieved to see that the oatmeal had not stuck to the pan while she answered the door..

"Can I help you with anything?"

"No, but thank you for asking. Please, just sit down … breakfast will be ready shortly."

Biddy had awakened when Will knocked on the door. Laying in bed, she listened quietly to the conversation in the kitchen then, smiling broadly, she rolled over and went back to sleep.

Once breakfast was finished, Will handed Molly a large brown paper package tied up with string. Opening it, she could not hide her gasp of delight. There was enough fabric for her to make three new dresses. A blue cotton calico for everyday, a green taffeta which would make a perfect traveling suit, and black satin so that she could replace the tired black dress she had worn in the months since John's death. There was a smaller package inside, and upon opening it, Molly discovered black velvet trims and buttons. She fingered the materials lovingly, then brought the satin to her face. Closing her eyes, she rubbed it across her cheek. Suddenly remembering Will's presence, her eyes flew open and she dropped the material.

Will was looking at her with bashful hope in his eyes. "I hope you like 'em, Miss Molly. I'm not in the habit of picking out materials for a beautiful woman."

"Oh, Will, I don't know what to say. They're beautiful … they're perfect. Thank you so very, very much. I won't be able to wear the new dresses for a few more weeks, but I can start making them now. I don't want anything to get spilled on the fabrics, Will, so I'm going to put these away for now."

Molly all but danced to her room. Thank you, John … thank you. Laying the pack carefully on her bed, Molly caught sight of her reflection. Although still pale and drawn, her eyes had an unmistakable sparkle in them. With a final glance at the material, Molly closed the door to her room and rejoined Will in the kitchen.


Will's stay in Seattle was shortened when he was asked to deliver time-sensitive cargo to Portland. Molly was disappointed that he was leaving so quickly after arriving, but she was eager to start work on her new dresses. She and Biddy pored over the Godey's Lady's Book looking for patterns for the three dresses Molly would make.

"I'll make my everyday dress first, I think," Molly said as she found a dress with front tucks, puffed long sleeves, a dropped front waist, and deep pockets which would serve her well as she began her new life in Portland.

She then found a traveling suit which featured a full skirt and fitted jacket. The black satin was also two pieces. The blouse buttoned in back and had tiny pintucks on the yoke. The full skirt was smooth in front with a bustle in back. The lustrous fabric, plus the trims of black braid, ruffled black lace, and a beaded flounce distinguished this gown from the widow's weeds she had been wearing.


A year and a day after John's death, Molly agreed to marry Will. Seeing little reason to wait, they decided they to get married the following month when Will returned to Seattle. They had a small civil ceremony with only Miss Biddy and the judge's wife present. Afterwards, Miss Biddy tearfully kissed Molly good-bye. "Will's a good man, Molly. I am certain the two of you will be very happy together."

"Thank you for everything you've done for me this past year. I will miss you, Biddy," Molly replied with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, posh!"

"No, I mean it. You befriended me when everyone else shunned me. I don't know if I could have survived this past year without you."

"Be happy, Molly. You deserve it, my dear. And John would want you to be."

Nodding, Molly turned to her new husband.

"Ready, Mrs. Sanford?" he asked with a smile.

Well, that certainly sounds better than the Widow Albright, Molly thought suddenly. Smiling shyly at her new husband, Molly replied, "I am indeed, Captain." Biddy handed over Molly's small satchel, and the newlyweds left for Will's boat.


Molly moved into Will's house in Portland, Oregon. She no longer had the naïve enthusiasm which made John fall in love with her, but Will was a patient man. With his encouragement, Molly made a few friends. He was at sea for weeks at a time, and he was concerned that Molly would be unhappy, sitting alone in their house, day after day.

Knowing how concerned Will was about her adjustment to life in Portland, Molly set about decorating their house. She purchased red and white gingham fabric, and made cheerful curtains for the kitchen windows. She then made velvet drapes for their parlor and bedroom. She hosted the ladies' sewing circle once a week, and gradually found her place in Portland among the shopkeepers' wives. Her days were full, and she would drop into bed each night, too exhausted to be lonely for her husband. The Sundays when Will was gone were the worst for her. Her friends invited her to attend services with them, but she politely declined. The day would yawn on endlessly, and she would keenly miss her husband. There were times when she thought her longing for children would kill her.

Molly still wanted children, and she was disappointed each month when she realized it was not to be. Most of her friends were mothers, and Molly longed for a baby. When she was the last of the group without a child, Molly kept to herself more and more. She grew more despondent with each passing month, and Will began to fear for her sanity. Always reticent, she spoke less and less as time went on.

He tried to convince her to sail with him, but Molly refused. She did not know how he could stomach that wretched trip up and down the coast; and the thought of being captive in their cabin, with nothing to do for days on end was not appealing to her. She thought about taking the teacher's test, but realized that no school would hire a married woman. Realizing that charity work was the only socially acceptable outlet, she volunteered at the local hospital.

Nights when Will was at sea were the worst. Once her chores were finished and she was settled for the night, it was difficult to keep t he memories of a young girl with such dreams for her future at bay.