Tomorrow's Shining Dream

by Naomi Rawlings

  “You’re here.” The pounding in her chest slowly lessened. “Leroy and Martin said they couldn’t find you.”

  “’Course I’m here. Where else would I be?”

  “Is everything all right?” An unfamiliar voice filled the kitchen. Then footsteps thudded against the uneven floorboards and a pair of man’s boots appeared beside Colin.

  Tressa ran her gaze up, up, up. Past the man’s legs and waist and shirt and neck until she stared into a face with a faint golden beard lining its cheeks and chin. Her eyes finally met a pair of light brown ones filled with laughter.

  Her cheeks burned. Of all the ways to meet someone.

  She scrambled up from her place on the floor, which only sent a fresh plume of flour wafting from her apron and the blob of sourdough tumbling to the floor with a splat.

  A booming guffaw filled the small kitchen, followed by her son’s tinkling laughter.

  “Did you hear that, Ma? It splatted like a mud pie.”

  Perhaps so, and a ten-year-old boy would probably think that funny, but did the stranger have to laugh? She took a step back from the muck at her feet and bumped into the counter behind her. Her elbow collided with the bag of flour, which slumped toward the edge.

  She reached for it, but the stranger grabbed the sack before it fell.

  Wedged between a chest that seemed too wide to belong to a living, breathing person and the counter, Tressa looked up at a man tall enough to reach up and touch the ceiling. “Ah… thank you.”

  He smiled, and faint lines wreathed his eyes—lines that indicated he still wanted to laugh at her. “You’re welcome.”

  A warm puff of breath feathered across her cheek, much different from Mr. McCabe’s sour exhalations. Then the man reached across her and placed the bag of flour on the counter against the wall, seemingly unfazed by how his chest pressed into her side.

  The small movement gave her room enough to step away from—

  Squish.

  Another round of laughter filled the kitchen.

  She didn’t need to look down to know what she’d just stepped in.

  Cheeks burning again, she clamped a hand to her hip and glared at the man. “Who are you, and why are you in my kitchen?”

  “I, um…” A chortle choked off his words.

  “He’s Mr. Oakton.” Colin spoke through a snicker, one that died quickly when she turned her glare on her son. “The lightkeeper.”

  “Oh.” After living in Eagle Harbor for a year, most of the townsfolk had wandered into her bakery at one time or another, but not this man. She would have remembered, what with the way he towered above them like an oak tree.

  “Assistant lightkeeper,” Mr. Oakton managed. Then he pressed his lips together as though doing so could somehow hide his urge to start laughing again. “But not for long. Got a shipyard down on Lake Huron my friend and I are buying.”

  Colin wiped at the flour that had settled onto his face. “He walked me home.”

  “Walked you home?” She narrowed her gaze and ran it down Colin. Red cheeks, slightly mussed hair, bright eyes, working arms and hands and legs. Why did her ten-year-old boy need someone to walk him home?

  “Here, Ma. Remember how I said I’d bring you a quarter for sweeping the porch at the general store? I got two.” He held the coins out, his eyes shining. “Maybe we can buy a chicken from the Markhams, or a rabbit from Mr. McCabe next time he comes ’round?”

  Something large rose in her throat, and she glanced at Mr. Oakton. What kind of mother did this big, hulking man think she was, sending her ten-year-old son off to work?

  But she hadn’t sent him. He’d found work on his own.

  Because he feels the strain of my debts.

  She rubbed at her head, the ache growing worse rather than lessening. What a terrible mother she was turning out to be.

  “What’s wrong? Should I give the quarters to Mr. Ranulfson instead?” Colin looked at the coins she’d yet to take, then back at her, the joy in his eyes starting to dull. “You can do whatever you want with them, I promise.”

  “I…” She took the money. The stranger still stood by the counter, his tall form and broad shoulders taking up too much space in a room that had never seemed small before. “I think we best give it to Mr. Ranulfson.”

  Or maybe use it for flour. Yes, that’s what she’d use the money for, flour so that she could keep baking. She simply wouldn’t think about how long it had been since she’d tasted chicken, or even a rabbit.

  “Did you sell a lot of stuff today?” Colin spun on his heel and dashed into the storefront. “I’ve been praying you would.”

  She’d sold some, yes. But not as much as she would have at this time last year, and not enough to pay off what they owed by the beginning of August. Her customers had certainly tapered off this winter after Otis died and news of his numerous debts and swindling attempts had floated around town.

  “Well, did you?” Colin called from the other room.

  “A handful of people stopped by.” She simply wouldn’t confess the majority had spent a nickel or dime rather than several dollars.

  “Oh. It kind of looks like there’s lots of bread and muffins left.”

  And cookies. Plus a pie.

  She took a step toward the storefront, only to have the heel of her ankle boot squelch against the floor. How could she have forgotten her shoes were coated in sourdough? She bent and undid the trio of tiny buttons at the top of her worn shoes, feeling Mr. Oakton’s gaze on her back all the while.

  Oh well. The stranger had already seen her sprawled on the floor and covered with flour. There was little reason to stand on ceremony. She set the shoes aside, leaving the mess of flour, sourdough, and broken pottery to clean up later, and proceeded into the storefront in nothing but her stockings.

  If the back of her neck burned a little while he watched her, it was hardly the worst thing that had happened today.

  “Sure looks like you’ve got lots to choose from.” Mr. Oakton’s boots clunked against the floor behind her. “I was just thinking how we need a couple loaves of bread back at the lighthouse. And maybe some muffins for breakfast in the morning.”

  Colin turned from where he stood in front of the display counter and sent the lightkeeper a smile that caused his freckles to scrunch up on his cheeks. “Really?”

  “That’s all right.” Tressa twisted her hands together. “You don’t need to…”

  But the man was already moving to survey her shop’s goods.

  Had Colin’s questions about money given their situation away? She’d worked hard to keep news about them being robbed and owing money to the bank from circulating. The stories about Otis’s swindling caused her enough trouble by far. Would people still come to the bakery if they knew she was in danger of losing it?

  She stared down at her apron, covered in wasted flour and soiled from the sourdough blob. She’d sunk her every last penny into this bakery. If she didn’t make things work, she had nowhere to go and nothing to offer her son…

  Except for a blanket on the floor of Mr. McCabe’s cabin.

  Mac plucked his hat off and held it against his chest as he looked around the bakery hewn of rough planked lumber and pitch. Though a few shelves sat empty, baked goods filled a good portion of the storefront, and what he saw looked delicious. Scents radiated from every crack and crevice of the room, a whiff of ginger here, a touch of cinnamon there. And didn’t it beat all, the woman had a strawberry pie sitting smack in the center of one of the shelves. His mouth was already watering, and that was before he stepped close enough to see the large grains of sugar sprinkled on top and a fancy curlicue design cut into the flaky dough.

  A line of people should be wrapped around this building waiting to purchase that pie alone, not to mention the gingerbread cookies and loaves of fluffy looking bread. So why was no one here? This was strawberry pie, after all.

  “Are you really going to buy some bread?” The boy looked between him and the bread uncertainly.r />
  “I said I was, didn’t I?”

  The doubt didn’t leave the boy’s eyes.

  He’d found Colin crying in the woods. After drying his tears and giving him a quarter to make up for the one a couple bullies stole, plus a second for good measure, couldn’t the boy trust him to do as he’d stated?

  But then, the child was Otis Danell’s son. Having had Otis for a pa, the boy likely had a hard time trusting anyone.

  He knew about those kinds of pas far too well—and how their pungent reputations seeped into their innocent son's pores until the entire town thought his little boy stank as bad as his skunk of a father. His own pa had left twelve years ago this summer, and he still couldn’t manage to entirely cleanse the stench of his father’s deeds off himself, at least not in the eyes of a few townsfolk.

  He lumbered toward the loaves of bread stacked neatly onto the far counter. He probably shouldn’t spend much, what with how he’d been saving every spare penny for his move to Port Huron. But the woman seemed in need of a customer or two, and he had enough money put by to give himself a good start after he moved.

  Three loaves were discounted to half price. He snatched the lot of them plus the two fresh ones. He reckoned Jessalyn Dowrick could use a loaf of bread, what with three little ones to look after and her husband up and gone to the gold fields Out West.

  And word around town was the minister’s wife had taken a fall and was hobbling about with a turned ankle. Her husband would probably appreciate some bread. Heaven only knew what Finley McCabe ate save for the muskrats and possums he managed to trap. And Ruby Spritzer had so many young’uns running about the place she probably worked twelve hours a day just to keep them fed and clothed.

  And there were the Cummingses. Something hard fisted around his chest at the thought of stepping into their cabin now empty of the man who’d taken him in and raised him as a son after his pa ran off, even if he was just to deliver bread. Last he’d heard, Mabel still wasn’t faring well and certainly wasn’t up to baking.

  “That’s an awful lot of bread, mister. Are you sure you can eat it all?” Colin’s eyes had gone from wary to wide.

  So maybe he wouldn’t be depositing any extra money in the bank this week. “And the strawberry pie.”

  “No! I mean…” Mrs. Danell’s voice held the softest accent. Not the blunt, forceful sound of the Cornish, nor the rolling lilt of the Irish, but something altogether different. Something so subtle most people wouldn’t notice. The woman tucked a falling strand of hair behind her ear and raised eyes as tawny and rich as maple syrup to meet his. He’d seen her around town a time or two, but why hadn’t he ever taken notice of Otis Danell’s widow before now?

  Of course, she hadn’t exactly been a widow all that long, and he’d been a mite busy at the lighthouse of late.

  Did she realize how much flour was sprinkled through her hair? Or that her forehead was dotted with little white splotches?

  “That’s too much.” Again, the faintest accent tinged her voice. “You can’t possibly need five loaves of bread and a pie.”

  It was little surprise the woman had half a shop full of unsold goods if she went about telling customers not to purchase her food.

  “My ma makes the best pie in Keweenaw County.” The boy pulled the pie off the display shelf and set it near where his ma stood with the money box.

  “Colin, hush now.” The woman’s cheeks had turned a faint rose color despite the flour dusting them.

  “I’m sure she makes a right fine pie.” And buying it would be money well spent if for no other reason than keeping the smile on the moppet who beamed at him.

  He just might come ’round again tomorrow too. It wouldn’t hurt to buy a few cookies to see the boy grin again. Maybe if he was lucky, he’d even get a smile out of his ma.

  He might be departing town in two weeks, but there was no harm in leaving a handful of dollar bills and a couple smiling faces behind him.

  Buy Love’s Unfading Light on Kobo.

  Thank You

  Thank you for reading Tomorrow’s Shining Dream. I sincerely hope you enjoyed Daniel and Charlotte’s story. I’m so very excited to be writing a series set in Texas, and I hope you come to love the rugged town of Twin Rivers as much as I have. The next full-length novel in the Texas Promise Series is Wes and Keely’s story, Tomorrow’s Constant Hope. Click here to purchase.

  Want to be notified when Tomorrow’s Constant Hope releases? Sign up for my author newsletter.

  Also, if you enjoyed reading Tomorrow’s Shining Dream, please take a moment to tell others about the novel. You can do this by posting an honest review on Kobo or GoodReads. Please note that to leave a review on Amazon, you need to go directly to Amazon’s website. Your e-reader may ask you to rank stars at the end of this novel, but that ranking does not show up on Amazon as a review. I read every one of my reviews, and reviews help readers like yourself decide whether to purchase a novel. You might also consider mentioning Tomorrow’s Shining Dream to your friends on Facebook, Twitter, or Pinterest.

  Other Books by Naomi Rawlings

  Texas Promise Series

  Book 1—Tomorrow's First Light (Sam and Ellie)

  Book 2—Tomorrow's Shining Dream (Daniel and Charlotte: releasing 2020)

  Book 3—Tomorrow's Constant Hope (Wes and Keely: releasing 2020)

  Book 4—Tomorrow's Steadfast Prayer (Harrison and Alejandra)

  Book 5—Tomorrow's Lasting Joy (Cain and Anna Mae)

  Eagle Harbor Series

  Book 1—Love’s Unfading Light (Mac and Tressa)

  Book 2—Love’s Every Whisper (Elijah and Victoria)

  Book 3—Love’s Sure Dawn (Gilbert and Rebekah)

  Book 4—Love’s Eternal Breath (Seth and Lindy)

  Book 5—Love’s Winter Hope (Thomas and Jessalyn)

  Book 6—Love’s Bright Tomorrow (Isaac and Aileen)

  Short Story—Love’s Beginning

  Prequel Novella—Love’s Violet Sunrise (Hiram and Mabel)

  Author’s Note

  I hope you enjoyed the second book in the Texas Promise Series. I must confess, this is one of the hardest novels I’ve ever written. It wasn’t hard because Charlotte and Daniel were being difficult or the story fought me. It was more that everything else in my life fought me while I was trying to write their story.

  We all have different seasons of our lives. Some are slow and some are busy, and I’m definitely in the middle of a busy season right now. I’m hoping and praying things will slow down soon so I don’t have to fight quite so hard to find time to write Wes and Keely’s story. I don’t know what season of life you’re in at the moment, but whether it’s busy or slow, please know that God’s grace will be sufficient for you, because His strength is made perfect in weakness.

  I’m so very blessed to write a story that included II Corinthians 12:9-10. It’s been a favorite verse of mine for years, and I loved getting to work it into a novel. I know that Tomorrow’s Shining Dream is a work of fiction, but I hope and pray this story illustrates the importance of depending on God when problems arise.

  The fictional town of Twin Rivers is set in what’s known as Texas’s “Big Bend.” It is based on a combination of the real-life towns of Presidio, Lajitas, and Terligua, Texas. The Chihuahuan Trail is a real historical trail that ran from Chihuahua, Mexico to San Antonio, Texas, and the U.S. port of entry for the trail was Presidio.

  While writing this series, I had the wonderful opportunity to go to Texas. If you ever have the chance to visit Big Bend National Park or take the scenic drive that winds through Big Bend Ranch State Park, do it. The vast beauty of the region is unforgettable.

  One of the hidden gems that I stumbled upon during my trip was a historic trading post named Fort Leaton. I originally didn’t have any plans for a trading post in my series, but once I walked through the adobe archway of the old fort, I knew I had to include it. The dark story about the fort’s original owner and his death also captivated me, so Fort As
hton and Bartholomew Rutherford were born. I changed the name and the location a bit for my fictional series, but you’ll be seeing a lot more of the historic landmark in the next two Texas Promise books.

  Thank you for visiting Twin Rivers with me in this novel. I hope that you’ll return to this forgotten corner of the Chihuahuan Desert to read Wes and Keely’s story, Tomorrow’s Constant Hope, when it releases in 2021.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you first and foremost to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for giving me both the ability and opportunity to write novels for His glory.

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  As with any novel, an author might come up with a story idea and sit at his or her computer to type the initial words, but it takes an army of people to bring you the book you have today. I’d especially like to thank my editors, Natalie Hanemann and Melissa Jagears, for pointing out ways to make this book stronger. Also, thank you to Judy at Judicious Revisions, Roseanna White, and Victoria Naegele for helping with the finer details of this novel.

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  Many thanks to my family for working with my writing schedule and giving me a chance to do two things I love: be a mommy and a writer.

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  And thank you to the wonderful, flexible staff and parents at Copper Country Christian School in Chassell, Michigan, for letting me find time to finish this book while also working at the school.

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  Finally, many thanks to the hospitable people of Terlingua, Texas and the staff at Fort Leaton for answering my numerous questions and helping me make the Texas landscape come alive. Thank you to Janelle at Lajitas and Big Bend Stables (https://www.lajitasstables.com/) both for the tour on horseback and for answering my many questions. Thank you to James at Big Bend River Tours (http://bigbendrivertours.com/) for a memorable trip down the Rio Grande. My only complaint was that the trip was too short. Thank you to the wonderful park ranger at Fort Leaton who answered my numerous questions on two separate occasions. I’m so sorry I don’t remember your name. I thought about calling Fort Leaton to see if I could learn it, but figured that might seem rather stalker-like.