Cedar Dale was frightened of people, wounded and heartbroken. As Cedar and her mother tried to start life anew after suffering such terrible losses, their return to the small western town of Cedar's childhood proved uneventful enough. That is, until Cedar literally bumped into a dream of her past...Tom Evans. 

Tom Evans had been living alone since his elder brother Slater and up and married Lark Lawrence. He'd kept busy running his cattle and working as hard as he ever had. Still, he never anticipated what a simple chance meeting would mean. Little Cedar Dale had grown up…grown up and been wounded. Could Cedar dare to dream dreams of Tom Evans again? And could Tom Evans still fulfill them?

Chapter One

            Spring had blessed the morning with glorious sunshine and the melodic whistles of early birds.  From the kitchen window, Cedar Dale watched a robin tug a worm from the moist earth, glad it had been rain which had fallen the night before instead of snow.  There would be more snow to come before spring gave way to summer, but for the time being, the sun shown brightly and a variety of early spring flowers were pushing up through the soil in the flower garden.

            Cedar fastened the top button of her coat and pulled on her woolen gloves.  Smoothing her soft, brown hair into a braid, she loosely bowed the ties of her bonnet beneath her chin.  She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled a deep breath, attempting to rally her courage.

            “I’ll be back as quick as I can, Mama,” she called over her shoulder, retrieving a small basket from a nearby shelf.

            “Take your time, darlin’,” her mother answered from the kitchen.  “No need to hurry.”

            But there was need to hurry.  At least, for Cedar there was.  Facing anyone in town was frightening, a great challenge for her.  Ever since fear had beaten her, scarred her…and the scars of fear took time to heal.  Some never did. Cedar Dale faced her fears each and every time she left the small farmhouse she shared with her widowed mother.  Oh, people in town were friendly enough, tried to be understanding.  Still, she knew whispers followed in her wake, knew she would never feel completely safe and secure again and it made any sort of contact with people all the more difficult.

            Yet, she and her mother needed supplies, especially with the weather as unpredictable as it was.  The only way to acquire the supplies they needed was to venture into the terrifying reality of the township.

            With great trepidation, her hands trembling with anxiety, Cedar stepped out of the farmhouse and into the world.  She closed her eyes for a moment, attempting to steady her nerves, reminding herself most of the people in town had known her since she was a small child.  Reminding herself no one had been cruel to her since she and her mother returned three weeks before, Cedar drew a deep breath and set out.

            It had been a great relief to Cedar, leaving the city behind, leaving the people she’d known there, the people who had known her.  It was a great relief to leave Logan ’s grave and her father’s…daily reminders of the tragedy, which had forever damaged the hearts and minds of both Cedar and her mother. 

            It had been Cedar’s mother, Flora Dale, who had suggested she and her daughter return to the old farmhouse near the town where Cedar had spent her early childhood.  Those had been happy years - years spent with her father and mother comfortable and content in the little farmhouse, baking bread, feeding chickens and playing in the surrounding meadows and fields.  The city had never felt like home to Cedar.  Too many houses and city buildings blocked a clear view of the horizon.  Too many people bustled about with too many things to do.  And of course, too many fears had crept into her dreams.

            It was a testament to her father’s rural nature, his having never sold the farm, and Cedar had been more than willing and ready to leave the city in search of the past and the possibility of blessed isolation.  Yet she was disappointed to find how tightly her trepidation, insecurity and distrust in mankind still gripped her.  Her sleep was broken and restless, her worries and anxiety made her jumpy and nervous, and she wondered if the events of almost two years ago would ever release their strangling grip on her.

            As she walked toward the General Store, Cedar was again astonished at how the town had grown since she had lived near it as a child.  Her father’s farm was now within easy distance of the new schoolhouse, and the General Store was just around the bend.  She frowned, hoping the little western town would not find itself transformed into a big frightening city one day.

            Several of the townsfolk nodded and smiled at Cedar as she stepped up onto the boardwalk, passing the boardinghouse and smithy.  Everyone was friendly enough, but Cedar folded her arms tightly across her chest and dropped her gaze all the same.  People were dangerous, and Cedar was no longer the sturdy, happy-hearted child she had once been.

            “Good mornin’, Cedar,” Mrs. Simmons greeted.  Mrs. Simmons and her husband were the proprietors of the General Store.  A jolly elderly woman, Mrs. Simmons was ever smiling, her eyes always twinkling with delight.  “How’s yer mama?”

            “She’s fine,” Cedar answered, forcing a smile. 

            “That’s good to hear,” Mrs. Simmons said.  “What can I do for ya today, dear?”

            “Well,” Cedar began, “we’re needing some thread, witch hazel, a few potatoes if you have them, and we’re nearly out of sugar, too.”

            “Nearly out of sugar?” Mrs. Simmons exclaimed.  “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”  Cedar couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s easy, friendly manner.

            “No, we can’t have that,” Cedar agreed.

            “And Mr. Bartley brung in some ‘taters just yesterday.  Nice big ones, too,” Mrs. Simmons said.  “Ain’t nothin’ like a nice warm ‘tater all slathered over in butter.”
            “That’s for certain,” Cedar giggled.  Mrs. Simmons did always make Cedar feel better, more hopeful in humanity.

            “I hear tell Luke Danielson’s got his eye on ya,” the women said as she handed Cedar a spool of white thread.  “He come a courtin’ yet?”

            Cedar’s stomach immediately began to twist into knots at the mention of Luke Danielson.  He had become very attentive to her over the past month or so, but even for his easy manner and handsome appearance, Cedar had no wish for him to court her.  Whether it was Luke in particular, or simply courting as a whole, she wasn’t certain.  She was certain, however, she had no wish to be the object of his attentions.

            “No, he hasn’t,” Cedar answered.  “And…and to be honest..I…I…”

            Mrs. Simmons smiled with compassion and said, “Don’t ya worry, sweetie.  Hearts do heal.  May take some time yet…but you’ll be fine.”

            Cedar nodded and tried to keep the tears from escaping her eyes.  She felt guilty for the fact her tears were for herself, her own fears and insecurities, rather than for Logan or her father.

            “Now,” Mrs. Simmons chirped.  “Let’s pick out some nice, big ‘taters for you and yer mama!”

d

            Tom Evans reined his horse in, dismounted and wrapped the reins loosely around the hitching post in front of the blacksmith shop.

            “Mornin’, Tom,” Luke Danielson greeted from across the street.

            “Mornin’ there, Luke,” Tom called in return.

            It was a nice spring day, and Tom was glad to be back near town.  He’d enjoyed the past month out at Slater and Lark’s house, helping to raise the new barn and build fence.  Still, even for the solitary loneliness out at his own place, he was glad to be settled back down. 

            He smiled at the thought of his elder brother and his young bride.  What a happy couple they were, so lost in their love for one another.  It was good to finally see Slater plum wallering in joy.

            Stepping up onto the boardwalk, Tom removed his hat and ran his fingers through his tousled brown hair.  He nodded and smiled as Mrs. Bartley walked past him, blushing under his gaze.  He chuckled and shook his head, amazed at how little girls grew up into young women and wives so quickly.

            Tom looked up when he heard the doves, which frequented the roof of the General Store, take flight, simultaneously feeling an all-too-familiar, moist splatter on his trouser leg just above his knee.

            “Dang it!” he exclaimed, looking down at the white bird mess which now stained his pant leg.  “Somebody oughta shoot them dang…”

            Suddenly, someone bumped into him hard enough that it sent him stumbling back a few steps.  He looked up to see a young woman stumble backward, lose her footing and end up sitting down hard on the boardwalk.  Although the situation caused him to smile, Tom withheld the desire to laugh.

            “I’m sorry, Miss,” he said, offering his hand to the young woman.  “Some dog gone bird just give me cause to have to do some more scrubbin’.”

            The pretty young woman looked up at him, her blue eyes widening, her perfectly arched brows rising in surprise as the pink seemed to drain from her cheeks.  Tentatively she took his hand.

            “Tommy Evans?” she whispered.  Tom smiled, a puzzled expression puckering his brow.

            “Tommy?” he repeated.  “Ain’t nobody called me, Tommy in years,” he said.  As he pulled the young women to her feet he asked, “Do I know ya, Miss?  Surely I’d remember meetin’ up with such a pretty angel as you.”  The girl was surreal in her angel-like beauty.  He could see light, nut-brown hair peeking out from under her bonnet, her face rather heart-shaped with the softest complexion.  Something about her did seem familiar.

            Cedar swallowed hard, tried not to faint dead away as she stood looking at Tom Evans.  He was ever so handsome!  More so even than he had been ten years before.  He was taller, his shoulders broader, the brown of his eyes deeper, his smile more mesmerizing.  Yet Cedar had recognized him instantly as the man she’d loved so completely during her childhood.

            “I’m…I’m…Cedar Dale,” she stammered, unable to quit staring at him.  “You probably don’t remember me, but my family used to…”

            “Jim and Flora’s little girl?” he exclaimed.  “Well…you certainly grew up!  Ya weren’t more than eight or nine years old when I seen ya last.”

            Cedar nodded, suddenly embarrassed he did remember her.  As a child she’d chased after Tom Evans something awful!  Skipped along behind him like a love-sick puppy.  No doubt he hadn’t forgotten, for she must’ve driven him plum crazy!

            “How’s yer daddy and mama?” he asked.  “You all move back out this way?”

            Cedar swallowed the lump in her throat and answered, “Mama’s fine.  Daddy was killed two years ago, and Mama and I have moved back out to the farmhouse.”

            The man frowned.  “Killed?” he asked.  “That’s terrible.  I’m so sorry to hear that.  Yer daddy was a fine man.”  Cedar nodded, accepting his sincere condolences.  “If you and yer mama need anythin’,” he continued, “anythin’ at all…ya just give me a holler.  Okeydokey?”  Cedar nodded and forced a smile.

            “Thank you,” she managed.

            “I mean it, now,” he told her.  “If you two need somethin’…just let me know.”

            “We will,” Cedar lied.  Tom nodded, apparently convinced she was telling the truth.

            “You tell yer mama I’ll drop in on her one of these days,” he said.  “And…I hope yer sitter ain’t too sore.  I need to watch where I’m goin’ better, I guess.”  Cedar smiled, a sincerely amused smile.  Not only was he more handsome than she remembered, but also more charming.

            “Good day, Mr. Evans,” she said.

            “Good day, Miss Dale,” he chuckled, touching the brim of his hat and nodding at her. 

            Cedar could feel his gaze on her back as she walked away from him.  Even for the cool of the morning she felt warm, hot all over as if she’d broken into a fever.  Tom Evans!  Ever since returning to the farmhouse she’d dreamt of such a reunion, but never really thought it would come to pass.  Tom Evans!  Standing there, smiling at her, sharing the same air and sunshine.  For the first time in two years Cedar had lived a moment without fear, a moment filled with true joy and delight.  Still, it was only a moment and she hurried home, glad she hadn’t dropped her basket when she’d bumped into Tom Evans.

            “That there Dale girl…was she just in here, Mrs. Simmons?” Tom asked as he entered the General Store.  Mrs. Simmons immediately came to stand near him, following his gaze out the door and down the street to where Cedar Dale hurried home.

            “Yep,” Mrs. Simmons said.  “She come in for a few things.  It’s so hard for her to leave the house.  Poor thing.”  Tom frowned and looked to the old woman who shook her head with a heavy sigh.

            “Why’s that?” Tom asked.  “Is her mama ailin’?”

            “Nope.  She’s just plum terrified of people, I think,” the old woman told him.  “Ya know how her daddy died, don’t ya, Tom?”

            “I been up at Slater and Lark’s place for near to a month, Mrs. Simmons,” Tom reminded her.  “I ain’t heard a thing about it.”

            “Well,” Mrs. Simmons began, placing a chubby hand on Tom’s arm and lowering her voice.  “Seems Cedar was engaged to a fine young man out there.  They was all ready to get married and…well, one night…Cedar, her folks and that young man of hers was a strollin’ around the city after supper when, all of a sudden, a couple of drunk gamblers come a stubblin’ out of the saloon.  I guess one of the drunks said somethin’ terrible to Cedar, so her young man starts into arguin’ with him.  Pretty soon her daddy’s involved and before Cedar and Flora could think what to do…Jim Dale and Cedar’s young man were shot dead…layin’ in puddles of blood right there in the middle of the city street!”

            “No!” Tom exclaimed.

            “That’s how I heard it…straight from Flora Dale herself,” Mrs. Simmons assured him.  “Now, Tom…that kind of a thing can really mark a woman up for life.  Ya know what I mean?”

            Tom nodded and mumbled, “Yep.”

            “Anyway,” Mrs. Simmons continued, “Cedar comes in here once or twice a week, needin’ just a few things here and there…duckin’ under her bonnet like she’d be just as happy to be invisible.  Luke Danielson’s got his eye on her, but she don’t want nothin’ to do with him.”

            Tom watched the girl walk down the town’s main street until she turned the bend and was out of sight.  He frowned and sighed heavily.  What a sad outcome for Flora Dale and her daughter.  As he remembered it, Cedar had been such a confident, happy little girl.  In fact, she’d nearly pestered him to death when she’d lived near town before.  Always running after him, tugging on his pant leg and begging for his attention.  It was disturbing to see her so changed, so fearful and unhappy.

            “Well, that’s a darn shame,” Tom said.  “Not the part about Luke Danielson, mind you, Mrs. Simmons.  Just the other of it.  Jim Dale was a good man.  I hired out to him one summer when I was a boy.”

            “She’s a pretty little thing, Tom,” Mrs. Simmons said.  “The right man could heal her heart and have a nice little wife for his own.
            Tom shook his head and smiled.  Mrs. Simmons had been trying to marry him off to every pretty young girl in the territory for years.  Furthermore, ever since his older brother Slater had married his own pretty little wife, Mrs. Simmons had exhausted even more effort on Tom’s behalf.

            “Now, Mrs. Simmons,” Tom began.  But the woman was undaunted.

            “That Matilda Perkins ain’t for you, my boy,” the woman told him.  “I know she’s  latched onto you like crumbs on a baker’s beard…but she ain’t for you.”  Tom chuckled.

            “She’s a darn sight closer to my own age than Flora Dale’s little girl,” he reminded her.

            “Flora Dale ain’t got herself a little girl, Tom,” Mrs. Simmons said.  “She’s got herself a beautiful young woman…in need of a good, caring, protective man.”

            “But you forget, Mrs. Simmons,” Tom said.  “Slater’s already married.”  Mrs. Simmons sighed and scoldingly smacked Tom on the back.

            “Ya know darn well I wasn’t thinkin’ on Slater,” she told him.  “Which reminds me,” she continued, “Cedar forgot to put the sugar she come in for in her basket.  You think ya could drop it by to Flora for me on yer way out of town, Tom?”  Tom chuckled again.

            “The Dale place ain’t on my way out of town, Mrs. Simmons.  And ya know it,” he said.

            “Oh, please, Tom,” she cooed.  “I wouldn’t want that poor girl to have to come all the way back for it…knowin’ how shy she is and all.”  Tom smiled, amused by the woman’s tricks.  How could he possibly tell her, no?  And besides, it wouldn’t hurt to drop in on Flora and see if there was anything he could do for her. 

            Tom’s own mother had always taught her boys to look after orphans, widows and old people.  If Flora and her daughter had moved back to the old farmhouse, chances were there were some things needing doing.

            “Oh, all right, ya little she-devil,” Tom agreed.  Mrs. Simmons smiled with delight.

            “Oh, thank ya, Tom!” she exclaimed, going to the counter and retrieving a sugar sack.  “Here it is.  You remember where the Dale place is, don’t ya?”

            “Yes, Ma’am.  I do,” Tom said.  Mrs. Simmons followed Tom out of the store, shading her eyes from the sun’s rays as she watched him walk to his horse down the way.

            “Now, you go on and linger as long as ya like, Tom,” Mrs. Simmons said as Tom mounted his horse.  “Them ladies could use some company.”

            “I’ll deliver the sugar, Mrs. Simmons,” Tom told her.  “Then I gotta get on back to my place.” 

Two trots down the road, Tom grimaced with disgust at himself.  Between the bird mess, the pretty Dale girl and Mrs. Simmons, he’d plum forgot to get the ten pounds of flour he’d come into town to get for himself. 

            “Go on, Ol’ Fred,” he said to his horse, clicking his tongue to urge the animal on.  He’d get the flour later.  Best get the sugar to that poor Dale girl before she turned around to head back.

            “Cedar!” Flora Dale exclaimed as her daughter hurried into the house, slamming the door behind her.  “What on earth?”  Cedar rushed into the kitchen and worked the pump, stripping her bonnet from her head and splashing the cool water on her crimson cheeks.

            “What ever did you do?” Flora asked.  “Run all the way home?”  Cedar drew an apron from its hook nearby, dabbing the water from her face.

            “You’ll never guess who I saw in town not ten minutes ago,” Cedar said.  Reaching up she pulled the pins from her hair letting it cascade in soft curls over her shoulders. 

            “Who?” her mother asked.

            “I thought I was dreamin’ at first,” Cedar said, running her fingers through her hair.  Her entire scalp had begun to tingle when she’d found herself face to face with Tom Evans.  And it hadn’t quit yet!

            “Who?” Flora asked again.  “Who did you see?”  But several firm knocks on the front door caused both women to gasp, holding their breath.  “Whoever could that be?” 

            “Probably Mrs. Simmons,” Cedar said.  “I forgot to pick the sugar sack up off the counter and bet she’s brought it over for us.”  Cedar rushed past her mother toward the front door.

            “Wait, Cedar,” Flora said.  “You haven’t told me what has you hopping around like a hot toad.  Who did you see?”  Cedar opened the door, fully expecting to see Mrs. Simmons smiling face on the other side.

Instead, her mouth dropped open in astonishment, and she heard her mother say, “Why, Tom Evans!  Is that you?”