Other Life-Changing Fiction™
by Karen Kingsbury
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One Tuesday Morning
Beyond Tuesday Morning
Stand-Alone Titles
Oceans Apart
Even Now
A Thousand Tomorrows
Where Yesterday Lives
When Joy Came to Stay
On Every Side
Divine
Redemption Series
Redemption
Remember
Return
Rejoice
Reunion
Firstborn Series
Fame
Forgiven
Found
Family
Forever (winter 2007)
Red Gloves Series
Gideon’s Gift
Maggie’s Miracle
Sarah’s Song
Hannah’s Hope
Forever Faithful Series
Waiting for Morning
Moment of Weakness
Halfway to Forever
Women of Faith Fiction Series
A Time to Dance
A Time to Embrace
Children’s Title
Let Me Hold You Longer
Miracle Collections
A Treasury of Christmas Miracles
A Treasury of Miracles for Women
A Treasury of Miracles for Teens
A Treasury of Miracles for Friends
A Treasury of Adoption Miracles
Gift Books
Stay Close Little Girl
Be Safe Little Boy
www.KarenKingsbury.com
Ever After
ePub Format
Copyright © 2006 by Karen Kingsbury
This title is also available as a Zondervan audio product.
Visit www.zondervan.com/audiopages for more information.
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530
ISBN-10: 0-310-29605-6
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible: New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic, mechanical, photo copy, recording, or any other — except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 5375 Roundup Dr., Colorado Springs, CO 80910
Interior design by Michelle Espinoza
Cover design by Brand Navigation
Cover photo by Stever Gardner, www.shootpw.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
In Memory
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
From the Author
Book Club Questions
About the Author
About the Publisher
IN MEMORY OF
JOSHUA DINGLER
I bring you this book in honor of the memory of Joshua Dingler, age nineteen.
At the final stages of editing Ever After, I received a letter from one of my readers — Karen Dingler. She said God had used one of my books to help her understand that her son, Joshua Dingler of the First Battalion, the 108th Armor Regiment of the U.S. Army in Calhoun, Georgia, had not died in vain.
What defined Joshua was his life, how he lived. Joshua was the son of a pastor, Tommy Dingler. His mother had just taken on the role of his army unit’s family support group leader when his family learned of his death. Joshua left behind a younger brother, Samuel.
When he was a young boy, Joshua played Little League baseball. He was a Boy Scout who earned the rank Life Scout, and in middle school, he went to Australia and New Zealand as a student ambassador for People 2 People. He helped out at church and volunteered at the sound booth. He was in JROTC at East Paulding High School in Hiram, Georgia, where he was known and loved by everyone he came in contact with. He would defend NASCAR to anyone who questioned it as a sport. Joshua planned to come home and marry his high school love and wanted to be a history teacher.
In honor of Joshua, I am starting two new links on my website, www.KarenKingsbury.com. The first is for Active Military Heroes. The second is for Fallen Military Heroes. If you have a friend or loved one serving our country, please send me a photo and a brief description of that person — name, rank, where they are serving, and how we can pray for them. The Active Military Heroes page will honor these men and women. It will be a place where readers can see the face on the fight for freedom, a place where readers can visit to pray for each other. If you’ve lost a loved one or a friend in military action, please send that photo and a brief description also. This will be posted on my Fallen Military Heroes page. Joshua Dingler’s photo will be at the top of that page. If you are sending a photo and information, please put the word “SOLDIER” in the subject line and send it to
[email protected] As you read the pages of Ever After, think about Joshua Dingler. The sacrifice for freedom is a real one. And please pray for and support the families and members of the U.S. Military. Pray every day.
In His light and love,
Karen Kingsbury
Joshua Dingler, 1986 – 2005
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, this book couldn’t have come together without the help of many people. First, a special thanks to my great friends at Zondervan, who believe in this sequel and have enormous dreams and prayers for the way it will touch people and change lives. Thank you!
Also, thanks to my amazing agent, Rick Christian, president of Alive Communications. I am amazed more as every day passes at your integrity, your brilliant talent, and your commitment to the Lord and to getting my Life-Changing Fiction™ out to readers all over the world. You are a strong man of God, Rick. You care for my career as if you were personally responsible for the souls God touches through these books. Thank you for looking out for my personal time — the hours I have with my husband and kids. I couldn’t do this without you.
As always, this book wouldn’t be possible without the help of my husband and kids, who will eat just about anything when I’m on deadline and who understand and love me anyway. I thank God I’m still able to spend more time with you than with my pretend people — as Austin calls them. Thanks for understanding the sometimes crazy life I lead and for always being my greatest support.
Also, thanks to my mother and assistant, Anne Kingsbury, for her great sensitivity and love for my readers. You are a reflection of my own heart, Mom, o
r maybe I’m a reflection of yours. Either way, we are a great team, and I appreciate you more than you know. I’m grateful, also, for my dad, Ted Kingsbury, who is and always has been my greatest encourager. I remember when I was a little girl, Dad, and you would say, “One day, honey, everyone will read your books and know what a wonderful writer you are.” Thank you for believing in me long before anyone else ever did. Thanks also to my sisters, Tricia and Susan and Lynne, who help out with my business when the workload is too large to see around. I appreciate you!
And a thanks to Katie Johnson, who runs a large part of my business life — everything from my accounting to my calendar. God brought you to me, Katie, and I’ll be grateful as long as I’m writing for Him. Don’t ever leave, okay? And to Olga Kalachik, whose hard work helping me prepare for events allows me to operate a significant part of my business from my home. The personal touch you both bring to my ministry is precious to me, priceless to me … thank you with all my heart.
And thanks to my friends and family who continue to surround me with love and prayer and support. I could list you by name, but you know who you are. Thank you for believing in me and for seeing who I really am. A true friend stands by through the changing seasons of life and cheers you on, not for your successes, but for staying true to what matters most. You are the ones who know me that way, and I’m grateful for every one of you. Please keep praying for me, since I can’t do a page of this, not even a word, without God’s strength and gift.
Of course, the greatest thanks goes to God Almighty, the most wonderful Author of all — the Author of life (Hebrews 12:2). The gift is Yours. I pray I might have the incredible opportunity and responsibility to use it for You all the days of my life.
DEDICATED TO …
Donald, my prince charming. In this season of life, with you working as full-time teacher here at home for our boys, I am maybe more proud of you than ever. I’m amazed at the way you blend love and laughter, tenderness and tough standards, to bring out the best in our boys. A second season of homeschooling? Wow! Don’t for a minute think that your role in all this is somehow smaller. You have the greatest responsibility of all. Not only with our children, but in praying for me as I write and speak and go about this crazy, fun job God has given me. I couldn’t do it without you. Thanks for loving me, for being my best friend, and for finding “date moments” amidst even the most maniacal or mundane times. My favorite times are with you by my side. I love you always, forever.
Kelsey, my precious daughter. You are just newly seventeen, and somehow that sounds more serious than the other ages. As if we jumped four years over the past twelve months. Seventeen brings with it the screeching of brakes on a childhood that has gone along full speed until now. Seventeen? Seventeen years since I held you in the nursery, feeling a sort of love I’d never felt before? Seventeen sounds like bunches of lasts all lined up ready to take the stage — and college counselors making plans to take my little girl from home into a brand-new big world. Seventeen tells me it won’t be much longer. Sometimes I find myself barely able to exhale. The ride is so fast, I can only try not to blink so I won’t miss a minute. Like the most beautiful springtime flower, I see you growing and unfolding, becoming interested in current events and formulating godly viewpoints that are yours alone. The same is true in dance, where you are simply breathtaking on stage. I believe in you, honey. Keep your eyes on Jesus and the path will be easy to follow. Don’t ever stop dancing. I love you.
Tyler, my beautiful song. Can it be that you are fourteen and helping me bring down the dishes from the top shelf? Just yesterday, people who called confused you with Kelsey. Now they confuse you with your dad — in more ways than one. You are on the bridge, dear son, making the transition between Neverland and Tomorrowland, and becoming a strong, godly young man in the process. Keep giving Jesus your very best and always remember that you’re in a battle. In today’s world, Ty, you need His armor every day, every minute. Don’t forget … when you’re up there on stage, no matter how bright the lights, I’ll be watching from the front row, cheering you on. I love you.
Sean, my wonder boy. Your sweet nature continues to be a bright light in our home. It seems a lifetime ago that we first brought you — our precious son — home from Haiti. It’s been my great joy to watch you grow and develop this past year, learning more about reading and writing and, of course, animals. You’re a walking encyclopedia of animal facts, and that too brings a smile to my face. Recently a cold passed through the family, and you handled it better than any of us. Smiling through your fever, eyes shining even when you felt your worst. Sometimes I try to imagine if everyone, everywhere had your outlook — what a sunny place the world would be. Your hugs are something I look forward to, Sean. Keep close to Jesus. I love you.
Josh, my tender tough guy. You continue to excel at everything you do, but my favorite time is late at night when I poke my head into your room and see that — once again — your nose is buried in your Bible. You really get it, Josh. I loved hearing you talk about baptism the other day, how you feel ready to make that decision, that commitment to Jesus. At almost twelve, I can only say that every choice you make for Christ will take you closer to the plans He has for your life. By being strong in the Lord, first and foremost, you’ll be strong at everything else. Keep winning for Him, dear son. You make me so proud. I love you.
EJ, my chosen one. You amaze me, Emmanuel Jean! The other day you told me you pray often, and I asked you what about. “I thank God a lot,” you told me. “I thank Him for my health and my life and my home.” Your normally dancing eyes grew serious. “And for letting me be adopted into the right family.” Well. I still feel the sting of tears when I imagine you praying that way. I’m glad God let you be adopted into the right family too. One of my secret pleasures is watching you and Daddy becoming so close. I’ll glance over at the family room during a playoff basketball game on TV, and there you’ll be, snuggled up close to him, his arm around your shoulders. As long as Daddy’s your hero, you have nothing to worry about. You couldn’t have a better role model. I know that Jesus is leading the way, and that you are excited to learn the plans He has for you. But for you, this year will always stand out as a turning point. Congratulations, honey! I love you.
Austin, my miracle child. Can my little boy really be nine years old? Even when you’re twenty-nine, you’ll be my youngest, my baby. I guess that’s how it is with the last child, but there’s no denying what my eyes tell me. You’re not little anymore. Even so, I love that — once in a while — you wake up and scurry down the hall to our room so you can sleep in the middle. I still see the blond-haired infant who lay in intensive care, barely breathing, awaiting emergency heart surgery. I’m grateful for your health, precious son; grateful God gave you back to us at the end of that long ago day. Your heart remains the most amazing part of you, not only physically, miraculously, but because you have such kindness and compassion for people. One minute, tough boy hunting frogs and snakes out back, pretending you’re an Army Ranger, and then getting teary-eyed when Horton the Elephant nearly loses his dust speck full of little Who people. Be safe, baby boy. I love you.
And to God Almighty, the Author of life, who has, for now, blessed me with these.
ONE
Two blue and gray fighter jets raced low over the neighborhood and looped toward the barren mountains in the west. Lauren Gibbs heard the vibration in the subtle rattle of picture frames on the mantel, sensed it in the wood floor of the old house, felt it all the way to her soul. Training drills, same as most days. She froze long enough to watch them, long enough to catch her fiancé’s attention.
“They still bug you.”
It wasn’t a question. Shane Galanter doled out the stack of plates in his hand one at a time onto the white linen tablecloth.
“Not really.” Lauren grabbed the napkins and followed behind him, setting one at each place. She caught his eye and hesitated. No fooling him, not when he knew all the back roads of her heart. She r
eleased a slow breath.“Okay, yes.” She set a napkin down on the next plate. “They bother me.”
Shane didn’t ask if her frustration was with the noise of the jets, or with the fact that they flew training maneuvers over the neighborhood where he lived, a few blocks from the navy’s Top Gun facility in Fallon, Nevada. Or if it was something bigger. Like the fact that these were the very jets and pilots that would be used in battle if necessary.
He didn’t have to ask. He already knew.
Because long ago he’d learned to know her mind, back when they first fell in love as kids. Yes, time and circumstances had separated them for nearly two decades, and now that they were in their midthirties, they’d both changed. But even so, ever since they’d found each other again, Shane could still look into her eyes and know what she was thinking.
“Sometimes, Lauren.” He crooked his finger and placed it gently beneath her chin. His eyes looked more tired than usual. “Sometimes I wonder about us.”
Panic stirred and she felt her world tilt. She shouldn’t have hesitated at the noise, shouldn’t have looked out the window. “It’s no big deal.” An anxious laugh sounded in her throat. “This is your life. I can handle it.”
He didn’t look away. “It’s about to be your life too.” His tone was kind, careful. “Remember?”
“I know.” She put her hand alongside his cheek and kissed him. “By then I’ll be used to it.”
He searched her eyes. “It’s been six months, Lauren.”
She refused to give fear a foothold. Instead she kissed him again, slower this time. “I’m trying.” She breathed the words against his lips. “Give me that, at least.”
The wedding was set for Christmas Eve — not by her choosing. She would’ve had them married by now. Every conflict resolved and nothing but a bright future ahead of them. Their nineteen-year-old daughter Emily felt the same, especially since her fall figured to be crazy-busy. She had accepted a soccer scholarship to Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma, Washington, and she was about to start work in the public information office of the army base at nearby Fort Lewis. Following in her father’s footsteps. “Make it a summer wedding,” Emily had pleaded with them. “Before school starts.”