Thomas was the love of my life, or he was supposed to be. Instead, he became the guy who broke my heart, crushed my spirit, the last guy I ever dated, and the reason I never wanted to date again. All this, I decided at seventeen, right after we graduated, which coincided with the day he left. He had his truck packed. We'd talked about running off together, eloping. Instead, Thomas explained he was leaving, joining the rodeo, and I could come if I wanted. If I wanted! I thought we shared a dream, but it didn't include running off to join the western equivalent of a circus. Not with him. Not with anyone. I knew better. So, he left, and I decided to make a life on my own. I spent the next few months learning all I could about the small bookstore my aunt owned. I gradually took over as she aged, until one morning she woke and announced that she was ready to retire. She had picked a retirement community nearby, she wanted to relax, sleep in and hang out with the old people, like herself. I'd begun to clean up the place, sorting through boxes of books she'd packed away and began setting them out. I'd let people make me an offer since I was short on space. That was when Thomas appeared. His father had passed, and the community was buzzing with rumors that he had returned to sell the property. He'd come in looking for a good read or so he claimed. Instead I shoved a book at him and told him to take it. I hoped I'd never see him again, but I was wrong. He returned, with the book, his note told me to read the book and I'd understand. So, I read it, and I understood nothing. It was Aunt Vi's diary. She too had never stopped pining for a cowboy who left her behind. Maybe he thought he was saving me. Perhaps I missed what I was supposed to understand all together. All I knew was that I didn't want to face him. One look at him told me it would be all to easy to fall into those strong arms again and I knew I still loved him, even if he didn't love me in return.

Peggy After the death of my husband, I drowned myself in flowers, a bittersweet memory of the good times we’d shared. I’d had the good fortune to fall in love with a man who wasn’t great with words but understood the language of flowers. There had been flowers for every occasion, which culminated into the biggest flower delivery of all, my own shop in the small town of Willow Valley, Peggy’s Petals. So I spent all my time and energy building my small flower shop. Eight years later, my friends are trying to encourage me to move on, but how does a person so that and leave behind the guilt they hold? Instead, I tried something safer. My best friend, Trinity, suggested I join the Army pen pal program. It seemed the safest ways to test out the waters with someone new, and the best part, we’d never meet, or so I thought. Ethan I’d now been divorced longer than I’d been married and thanks to countless deployments, I knew the men under my command better than I knew my own daughter. As I neared retirement, I wanted to change that. I started writing to my daughter. She was my first pen pal and in one of her letters she explained that she had been doing some volunteer work for a non – profit and she wanted me to get involved. Apparently, all I needed to do was write a pen pal provided by the non-profit. So, I signed up, and began exchanging letters. This went on religiously for more than a year. The more I knew about her, the more I wanted to know. Then kismet played its hand. Melinda, my daughter, and Peggy, my pen pal lived in the same small town. As I prepared for retirement, I finally knew where I wanted to settle down. The military had given me an amazing life, now I wanted the job of being a family man, which meant being with my family. I planned to move to Willow Valley, build a relationship with my daughter, and if I had my way, build one with Peggy too.

Darling Ranch. It was a family name in this town, a family business and a family way of life. Over the past year, the place hadn’t felt like family, or home, and I was barely staying in business. My wife had died from an aneurism while pregnant with our first child. It happened one morning while I was out in the field tending to the animals. The doctors told me it wouldn’t have mattered had I of been by her side, the outcome would have been the same. Still, I beat myself up. My best friend and neighbor, Gabe Bentley knew this. He let me mourn my own way, but now he’s pushing me harder than ever. “What’s the rush?” I asked him one morning. “I’m being deployed. I need to know my sister and the farm are taken care of….by the only man I trust in this town…you.” I’d known the army was recruiting again but I didn’t know he’d been called upon. I also didn’t know Cadence was back in town. I really didn’t know if I could be the man, the friend, the rancher that he needed me to be. What I did know? No matter how much it pained me, I’d try to do whatever it took to make sure that I didn’t let Gabe down. Then I saw Cadence and for the first time since my wife died I actually thought I could heal. She made me feel alive, made the pain go away. So why did I feel so guilty? One minute I was longing to hold her, the next I was pushing her away, until I finally pushed too hard and sent her running. I didn’t want to fail my best friend, and I didn’t want to fail Cadence. We all needed our Christmas wish and I decided to do whatever it took to make sure we got it.