DALE MEETS A MYSTERIOUS WOMAN. HE HAS TO FIGURE OUT HER IDENTITY AND HER STORY. SARAH WANTS REVENGE, OR DOES SHE? LOVE IS UP TO IT'S OLD TRICKS AGAIN, FLYING IN ON WINGS.
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CHAPTER ONE
Dale knew that today would be an epic day. Just like a dog can detect sounds a human can't hear, he just knew. He made his way through snow-edged streets and along slushy sidewalks, with the Late spring sun aching to break through the wispy clouds out of an Azure sky. Late Spring was winning the battle with winter, and the yellow crocuses in the Post Office planter led the advance. It was warm inside the familiar old building with it's age-old smell of paper and mailbags. He opened his brass mailbox and slid the contents into view as he mumbled to himself, "bills, flyers, junk mail, what's this?" A light blue envelope had caught his eye, and he was intrigued as he read the address of an old friend he hadn't heard from in awhile.
He looked up as a handsome woman was obviously having trouble opening her mail box. She was beautiful, with soft blue eyes, glowing skin and a cloud of highlighted brunette hair enveloping her head. He spoke, "I had the same trouble with my lock. Try jiggling the key up and down as you turn it." She smiled as she followed his advice and the little door opened. As they made eye contact he couldn't help feeling he had known her before. Her whole being seemed strangely familiar. He looked at her mail and noticed her name on the top letter - Sandra Golden. He said, "My name's Dale Mosier", and smiled at her. They shook hands as she answered, "Sandra Golden". She held onto his hand for several seconds, and he could feel a connection between them. She smiled, apologetically, and said, "You can have your hand back now." He chuckled and replied, " A sense of humor - I like that. Well, have a good day, Sandra Golden". They were smiling as they exited the Post Office and she got into her white Toyota. He wanted to say more, but thought better of it and heeded the inner voice of his mother, 'Let the moment be special of itself. Don't overdo it'. He mentally made a note of the license number and devised a mnemonic tag to remember it, 1214(dozen plus 2) My goodness sakes for 1214 MGS. His days as a Deputy Sheriff had left their mark, and she had certainly made an impression on him. This was an epic day.
He ordered a cup of hot chocolate as he sat down at the little corner table in Doug's Diner - his usual morning spot. He didn't see anyone he knew, so he began to thumb through the mail. The letter from Larry Vincent caught his eye, and he read, "Dale, Hope everything is well with you. Wolf Point is about the same as last time. I don't think much has changed in a hundred years here, probably since Lewis and Clark passed through!
The reason I wrote, old buddy, is that a good-looking woman was asking about you a couple weeks ago. She said her name was Sondra Gladden, an old school chum, so I gave her your address. She seemed OK to me, I hope you are fine with that. A semi-secret admirer, you sly dog? Here's wishing blue skies, airspeed and altitude to you buddy. Larry "
He pushed the mail into his jacket pocket and sipped the last of the warm chocolate, as he contemplated the days events. He wondered if Sondra Gladden and Sandra Golden were the same person, and if this was just coincidence or planned. He rose, paid the cashier, said goodbye to Erlene the waitress and headed out to the truck.
