A Thousand Tomorrows / Just Beyond the Clouds
“Ali.” He pressed his fingers to her lips. “I’m done with the season.”
“No, Cody.” Her mother looked at him. “Ali’s right. You’re at the top of your sport.” She clutched the arms of her chair. “You’re healthy and whole; if we put her back on the donor list she might get a lung right when she needs it.”
“Listen.” Cody’s tone was calm, convinced. He slid back in his chair. “I’m doing this. Nothing can change my mind. I want her to have my lung.”
No one said anything. Then Ali reached out and took his fingers. “We could try to wait, Cody. The doctor might be wrong. What’s a few months if it’ll let you win the championship again?”
“Hear me, Ali. Please.” He leaned close and kissed the inside of her wrist. “My season’s over whether you have the transplant in June or December. I won’t get on another bull until it’s over.”
“Why? I… I don’t understand.” Her voice was quiet, weak. “I don’t need you at home with me, watching me breathe from a machine. I’d rather have you winning rodeos, Cody. Doing what you love.”
“I can’t.” He ran his fingers over her engagement ring and pressed her hand to his face. He didn’t want to tell her, but he had to. “I’ve never worried about getting hurt on a bull, because I only had myself to think about.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe I wanted the challenge. The pain of a pulled shoulder beat the other pain, the one inside.” He found her eyes and held them. “But everything’s different now.” He sat up and put her hand to his chest. “One of my lungs is already yours, Ali. It’s not mine. I’m not worried about myself, I’m worried about the part of me that belongs to you.”
Ali’s mother covered her face with her fingers. She was crying, doing her best to hide the noise.
Tears filled Ali’s eyes, too, spilling down the bridge of her nose onto her pillow. And that’s when he knew he’d won. It was time to go home and get Ali well again, time to dream about the days the transplant would buy them. It was possible, wasn’t it? A cure could be found while she was living on borrowed time, right?
He leaned over the bed and hugged her. No matter that Ali and her mother were crying, he couldn’t bring himself to feel sad. So what if he missed a season of Pro Rodeo? He’d earned plenty of money that year already, and he could always go back when the surgery was behind them.
Ali was going to get better, stronger, and after her transplant anything could happen. She was a survivor, a fighter. If anyone could beat cystic fibrosis, it was Ali Daniels. And now they would be together every day back at her ranch. Ali and her mother were upset now, but Cody could feel nothing but joy over the fact. And then in just a few weeks when she was well enough, they would celebrate the happiest moment of all.
Their wedding day.
Chapter Seventeen
She found the dress at an old boutique in Denver, a small store she and her mother visited on the way back from a meeting with Dr. Cleary. Ali knew the moment she slipped it on. It was perfect, the only dress she could wear to marry Cody Gunner.
It was May, and warm temperatures had come to Colorado. The dress was full-length, layered satin covered with delicate lace, cap sleeves that fell an inch off her shoulders. She tried it on in front of a three-way mirror, and her mother covered her mouth, her eyes dancing.
“Ali, you’re a vision.” She came up and gave her a sideways hug as they both looked in the mirror. “Remember when I told you how much I hoped and prayed for this?” She turned and faced her. “For you to live long enough to fall in love?”
“Yes, Mama.” She angled her head closer to her mother’s. “I remember.”
“I told you heaven forbid it be Cody.” There was a catch in her voice. “Ali, I was wrong, honey. Cody loves you the way I only dreamed you might be loved.”
“I know.” She smiled at the reflection of the two of them. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
The days passed quickly and a few nights before the wedding, Ali and Cody were outside on the front porch, sitting in the old swing.
“Hey.” He looked at her. “I just thought of something; I haven’t got your wedding present yet.”
“That’s okay.” She looked out at the winding drive, the one they’d driven down so many times on their way to a rodeo. It was still impossible to believe those days were behind her; it was the hardest part of her new reality. She shifted and caught Cody’s eyes. “I don’t need a wedding present; you’re enough.”
“That’s not right, Ali. You deserve a wedding present.”
She wove her fingers between his and rested her head on his shoulder. A wedding present. She hadn’t given the idea much thought, but now that he mentioned it…“Okay, tell you what.”
“What?”
“After we get married, ride with me out to the far end of the ranch. Out there I’ll tell you what I want.”
“In your wedding dress?”
“Yes.” She set the swing in motion again. “The minute the ceremony is finished.”
He wanted to argue with her, she could see it in his eyes. But he wouldn’t. There was too little time to argue over anything now.
The morning of the wedding arrived, bursting with sunshine and new life. Ali went to her bedroom window and looked out. What would it be like to wake up next to Cody, to feel the strength of his body alongside hers? She could hardly wait. If she were smart she would’ve married him last Christmas when he proposed to her.
A bluebird landed on the tree outside her window. He cocked his head and looked straight at her. Then he hopped three times along the branch and flew off. Something about the bird made Ali think about her sister.
Anna had been her best friend, the sister who was her other half. Together they sat in their safe, clean room with the pastel wallpaper and dreamed of everything they’d do when they got better. Because back then they believed little girls with cystic fibrosis would get better, that one day they could skip across grassy hills and play hide-and-seek around the bushes and craggy rocks and outcroppings of pine trees. That come some autumn afternoon they might ride horses from sunup till sundown without worrying even a bit.
But it hadn’t happened. Anna never got the chance to grow up or find her way out of their bedroom or skip across the grassy hillsides or ride horses. Anna should’ve been there that day. She would’ve worn pale blue, her favorite color. Her dress would’ve been long and slender, and she would’ve placed baby’s breath and miniature daisies in her hair. The daisies that grew outside their bedroom window.
She would’ve loved Cody, loved the way he cared for her and her family. Cody and Anna would’ve been fast friends, and together with Ali and their mother, the four of them would’ve played hearts and spades and dreamed of the future.
Ali gripped the windowsill. Tears welled in her heart.
Anna should’ve been there beside Ali that day, her maid of honor, her best friend. And the fact that she wasn’t, that instead she was buried in the cemetery down the road, made Ali mad with a fierceness she’d hidden for a decade. It had been easy to place it all in a box and let it lie there, her sorrow, Anna’s death, all of it. Easy to never lift the lid and examine exactly who was to blame, to never even try to make sense of it.
But now… now everywhere she looked she saw Anna, and not just Anna, but life and hope and a future full of promise. She’d had a decade of horseback riding and barrel racing, parents who let her follow her dreams, and now the most amazing thing of all.
Cody’s love.
Coincidence could explain a lot of situations, but Cody? The fact that his lung was a perfect match for her ailing body? A love that made it hard to know where she ended and he began?
None of it was by chance.
She’d been granted all her dreams but one, and what was a national championship compared to the sweet season she was about to share with Cody? It was a miracle she was even standing there that morning. She could’ve died her first year on horseback. Dr. Cleary had told them that, hadn’t he?
She never should’ve survived the years she spent on Ace, the friendship she shared with her horse. Ace had taken Anna’s place, easing the loss and giving Ali another chance at life. Ace didn’t treat her differently for being sick. He didn’t take it easy on her or hold back. No, he flew when she was on him, sometimes for whole afternoons before either of them would get tired.
None of that should’ve been possible.
And then there was her mother’s dream. That she live long enough to fall in love, to know the love of a man who cherished her beyond even himself. Who would’ve thought that Cody Gunner would be that man? But there was Cody, loving her, adoring her, giving himself completely for her.
If he could’ve taken her disease onto himself, he would’ve done it. That was the kind of love Cody had for her.
And what about the time out by the back fence, when she couldn’t catch her breath? She could’ve died then, and she never would’ve known this day, never would’ve been preparing to stand on a hillside and promise her love to a man whose soul was intertwined with her own.
She’d been spared so much. She drew a breath and smiled. Her lungs would hold up today, she could feel it in her bones. She lifted her eyes to the sky and peered beyond the blue, to the place where her sister must live. As long as she drew breath she wouldn’t understand why Anna had to go so young, why she couldn’t be here now to celebrate this day with her.
But she couldn’t be mad about it, not anymore.
Tears stung at her eyes and she moved closer to the window, the blue sky filling her senses. She sniffed, overcome by a wave of sorrow bigger than the ranch out back. “Can I ask You something?” Her voice cracked, but she kept her eyes toward heaven. “Would You let Anna watch today, please? Give her a front-row seat.” Ali closed her eyes. She ached for Anna more today than ever before. “One more thing. Tell her I miss her.”
WITH HER PARENTS watching from a few feet away, Ali glided down the stairs. She held a bouquet of red roses, cut that morning from her mother’s garden. Cody waited on the landing below in dark jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a wool suit coat. He looked like the prince he would always be.
She didn’t have to ask him what he thought of her dress or of how she looked that day. It was written across his face, spilling over from his heart. However long she had left, she would never again look at Cody without seeing his eyes the way they shone as she came to him.
They embraced, Cody’s arms strong and protective, one around her waist, one along her upper back. She breathed in the smell of him, his cologne and shampoo and minty breath mixing in a way that was sweetly intoxicating, hinting at all that was to come that day, that night.
Before he released her, he whispered near her ear, “This is the best day of my life.”
The pastor and his wife were there also, not far from her parents. The pastor was thick and bearded with a guitar slung over his shoulder. His wife held a camera and a Bible. She took pictures, several of Cody and Ali, others of the two of them with her parents.
Ali pulled the woman aside before the group headed out. There was a song she’d remembered that morning. It was an old hymn, one of her mother’s favorites.
“Can you play it for us, at the end, when we’re married?” Ali kept her voice low. The song would be a surprise.
“Definitely.” The pastor’s wife knew Ali’s mother. The significance of the song was clear in her expression. “I’d be honored.”
“Thank you.” Ali found her father then and linked arms with him.
They led the way, with Cody and Ali’s mother next, and the pastor and his wife last. The procession took them over freshly mowed grass, past the tomato garden and rosebushes to the bluff, fifty yards from the house. It was a spot made of rock, covered with patchy grass, a place where she and Anna had dreamed of playing when they were little.
Everyone took their places. Cody and Ali in the center, her parents—the attendants—on either side. The pastor adjusted his guitar and tuned it for a few seconds. His wife stood near him and the first song began.
It was one that captured everything about the two of them. It spoke of a dream being like a river, the dreamer like a vessel, and how even when it was impossible to know what was ahead in the journey, the dreamer had no choice but to follow the dream.
A light wind danced across the ranch that afternoon, and wisps of Ali’s hair fanned her face. Without turning her head, she studied her father, tall and proud, stoic. He had stood by while she chased her dreams, paying the price of loneliness and uncertainty, but always believing in her. How amazing that his frame was so like Cody’s, that they might test so similar in their blood types and compatibility.
The doctors were wrong. She would live far longer than three years with a set of lungs from Cody and her father. They were the strongest men she knew; their lungs would keep her going for a decade at least.
She felt a stirring at her right elbow, and her mother leaned in. Her voice was the softest whisper. “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart.”
“Me, too.” Ali kept her response low. “It’s what you asked for.”
“Yes.” Their eyes held a moment longer. “Exactly what I asked for.”
When the song was over, the pastor opened the Bible and read about love.
“Love is patient and kind…”
Ali looked at Cody. The words seemed to be coming straight from his heart to hers, as if what they’d found together was the picture of what love was supposed to be. She handed her bouquet to her mother and took hold of his hands. They had much ahead in the coming weeks, the transplant and a month of recovery. Dangers would always exist for her, but here and now, lost in Cody’s eyes, love—the type of love being spoken of now—was all that mattered.
The pastor was finishing the reading.
“Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” He paused and looked at them. “Love never fails.”
It was time for the vows. They’d each written something special and unique, and then together they’d written the last part.
Ali and Cody faced each other, and Cody went first.
“I take you, Ali Daniels, as my wife.” He drew a breath and steadied himself. “If I have ten years with you, or a hundred, our time together would never be enough. With you, I’m something I’ve never been before.” He paused. “I’m whole because you complete me. My love for you means I’m no longer sure where I end and you begin.” He ran his thumbs along the tops of her hands, his tone steady even as his eyes filled. This last part they’d written together. “Ali, I promise you everything I am, everything I have, as many days as we share together. No matter what tomorrow brings, I will be here. I will stand by you and stay by you. I will be strong when you cannot be strong, and I will hold you up when you cannot stand. My love, my life, is yours, Ali, from this day on.”
He slid a delicate white gold band onto her finger and covered her hands with his.
She hesitated, his words still washing over her. Finally she swallowed and found her voice. “I take you, Cody Gunner, as my husband.” Everything faded but the man before her and the connection she felt with him. She waited until the lump in her throat relaxed. “I was not looking for love, but you came into my life and brought it. You opened my heart to feelings I’d never known, my eyes to colors I’d never seen. You taught me that love is measured not in years or decades, but in smiles and dreams and shared bits of laughter, in quiet walks and tender embraces and late-night talks.” Her voice cracked, but she continued. “Cody, I promise you all of me every day, as many days as we have together. No matter what tomorrow brings”—she touched the place over his heart—“I will be here.” Behind her, she could hear her mother sniffling. Tears blurred her own eyes, and she blinked so she could make out his face, his eyes. “I will stand by you in your dreams and stay by you in spirit. I will be strong in heart when you cannot be strong, and I will hold your hand when neither of us can stand. My love, my life, is yours, Cody, from th
is day on.”
She slipped a thicker matching band onto his finger and in the distance she saw a blue jay, just like the one she’d seen that morning. And suddenly she knew her prayer had been answered. Somewhere up in heaven, Anna was cheering for her, cheering and waving her hands and dancing because of what Ali had found with Cody Gunner.
The pastor said a few words about marriage and the commitment it involved. He closed with another reading.
“And now, these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.” He paused, his smile lifting the mood. “It is my pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife. Cody, you may kiss your bride.”
Again a gentle breeze played in her hair, sending fine wisps of blonde across her cheeks. Cody brushed them back, taking her face in his hands. Then, in a way that mixed delicate tenderness and smoldering passion, he kissed her.
The pastor took a step back and smiled. “Mr. and Mrs. Gunner, I’d like to be the first to congratulate you.”
Her parents circled them, hugging them and making the moment last. In the background, the pastor picked up his guitar and started playing. His wife’s voice rang full and clear across the place where they stood. The song grew and built and filled Ali’s heart with hope and possibility.
Ali caught her mother’s eyes. She leaned close and whispered near her ear, “I love you, Mama. I do.”
Her mother hugged her, rocking her, the two of them swaying in the breeze. “Everything’s going to be okay, honey. Keep believing.”
“I will.” She drew back and returned to Cody’s side. It was time for the part Ali had asked for, the part that made both her parents and Cody nervous. She was supposed to be using these weeks as a time away from horseback riding.
But Ali wanted this, and none of them could refuse her. Not on her wedding day.
She nodded at Cody and smiled. He hesitated, then broke away from the group and headed for the barn. A few minutes later, he galloped out on Ace, cowboy hat in place, headed for Ali. When he reached her, he extended his hand, and with the help of her dad and the preacher, Ali climbed onto Ace and pressed herself snug against Cody’s back. She sat sidesaddle, her long dress flowing just past the white lace-up boots she’d chosen for the day.