Finally he made his way to the front of the stage. There for the first time since the beginning of his movie career, he wasn’t Dayne Matthews. He was a guy who’d been alone and lost for most of his life, one of these hundreds of people desperate for a Savior. As he dropped to his knees, as he silently cried out to Jesus and begged Him to come through the open door into his heart, into his life, he felt something he’d never felt before.
His heart was complete, and that could mean only one thing: the hole was gone.
As he knelt on that broken asphalt street in Mexico City, Dayne recalled everything rotten and wrong about his life and he gave it to God. He asked, as he’d done one time before, for forgiveness. But this time he went one step further. He asked for salvation. Redemption.
After a few minutes, Bob led them through a prayer.
When it was over, when God had filled Dayne with a peace he’d never known, and when his tears had washed away all traces of doubt or distrust, he looked around. Rosa was praying with a group of women, and after a few minutes of looking, he found Bob.
As their eyes met, Dayne could see how happy his friend looked. “You saw me down there, didn’t you?”
“No.” Bob’s eyes widened. “So you did it? You finally let Him in?”
“I did.” Dayne clenched his teeth and stared up at the sky. He could feel the tears again, but he didn’t want to cry. Not now. Maybe not ever again. “I’ve never felt like this in all my life.”
“I knew it.” The intensity from earlier was gone, and in its place was a joy that spilled from Bob’s eyes. “I didn’t have to see you. I knew you’d come.” He gave Dayne the sort of hug they’d shared at the airport. “Finally, brother. Finally.” Bob pulled back and raised his fist in the air. “Thank You, God!”
The celebration felt as right as Dayne’s next breath.
“Hey, Dayne . . .” Bob looked at him, his expression intense once more. “Remember when I told you I was praying for you?”
Dayne wanted to shout. He felt so good inside that he couldn’t keep from grinning. “I remember.”
“This, man—” he spread his hands out, indicating the street ministry, the atmosphere, and most of all the change in Dayne—“I prayed for it to happen just like this.”
“Amazing.” Dayne could hardly wait to move forward, to get home and call Katy and get back into his Bible and find a church where he could understand the faith that drove everyone who mattered to him. But he had a question first. “It’s a street ministry, right?”
“Right.” Bob hesitated, as if he figured that much was obvious. “It’s leveled right at the people on the street. People who believe in God but who never knew they could begin a relationship with Him.”
“Okay . . .” Dayne had wondered this the whole time Bob was at the podium. “So how come you gave your talk in English?”
Bob’s expression changed. Even in the dark of nightfall, the color clearly faded from his face. “What do you mean?”
“Your talk.” Dayne searched his friend’s face, looking for signs that old Bob Asher was pulling a practical joke. There were none. Dayne’s voice fell. “The whole time, Asher. It was in English. I understood every word.”
At that instant, Rosa walked up, breathless. Her cheeks were tearstained, but her eyes glowed—much like Bob’s. She said something to her husband in Spanish, and then she grinned at Dayne. “Good you! You give life to Christ, yes?”
“Yes, Rosa. Thank you.” Dayne wanted to finish the conversation with Bob. What had caused his expression to change? And why the shock in his eyes?
Rosa took a step closer to Dayne. “I see you come. I see . . .” She made a frustrated sound, as if she couldn’t find the right words. She turned to Bob and rattled something off in Spanish.
Dayne was confused, trying to make sense of whatever was being said. He looked from Rosa to Bob. “What’d she tell you?”
Bob swallowed, the shock in his face stronger than before. “She said . . . she was surprised you came, surprised you could make out what I was saying.” He paused, unblinking. “She says she didn’t know you understood Spanish.”
“What? That’s . . . that couldn’t be.” Bob Asher had given his entire talk in Spanish? Is that what Rosa meant?
Bob was nodding. “It’s true, man. Not a word of English the whole time.”
The ground beneath Dayne suddenly felt unstable. That was impossible. He had sat in the chair off to the side and listened to the whole thing. Every word had been as clear as—
Understanding came over him like a torrential rain.
Dayne felt overwhelmed, awed. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but ponder what had happened. The God who had called him all his life, the God who had met him this very night on a street in the heart of Mexico City, wasn’t only his Savior and Lord. He was God Almighty, ruler of the universe. Bigger than anything Dayne could fathom. The one who had found him wasn’t only the God who would bring wholeness and meaning to his existence, the God who would lead him into a new life in Christ, a changed life. God was something else too. Something Dayne hadn’t thought about until just an hour earlier.
He was the God of miracles.
Tornado warnings were in effect for counties south of Bloomington. Rain beat on the windshield as John Baxter drove to the Indianapolis airport early this afternoon. He had already called ahead to see if his kids’ planes were delayed. They weren’t. Apparently the weather south and east of Bloomington was more stable.
The tornado warnings didn’t worry John. The forecast showed the storms heading farther north. Besides, the news he had to tell his kids tomorrow concerned him much more than any bad weather.
He and Elaine had taken a walk down to the creek yesterday. They were spending more time together—though it wasn’t a fact he’d shared with any of his children.
“It’s time, John.” Elaine had stopped and shaded her eyes with her hand. “Isn’t that what you decided?”
No matter what he’d told Ashley, he hadn’t made up his mind. Not yet. He slipped his hands into his pants pockets and stared at the tallest tree on the other side of the creek. “I keep thinking I should wait.” A sigh came from the anxious places in his soul. “Maybe Dayne will write or call.” He looked at Elaine. “The news would be so much easier to hear if we knew Dayne wanted to meet us. Don’t you think?”
Elaine hadn’t said anything. She didn’t have to. As their friendship had developed, one of the things John appreciated most about her was the way she didn’t rush into conversation. Instead, she let her eyes, her quietness act as a mirror. At the creek yesterday, much like other times, he could sense the right answer.
By the time they returned to the house, he’d made his decision.
John glanced in his rearview mirror now. Ashley and Cole were in their van right behind him. They would need both vehicles to bring the group and their luggage back to the Baxter house. Luke and Reagan and their two kids would go home with Ashley. Erin, Sam, and the girls would ride with him in the van Brooke had lent him. Kari and Ryan were at the house, getting dinner ready for after their arrival.
“Everything’ll be all set when you get here.” Kari had kissed his cheek as he left half an hour ago. “It’s going to be the best week of the whole year.”
John wasn’t so sure.
It was the first day of the Baxter reunion, and he was struggling. The radio was off, the silence welcoming. With all the praying John had been doing, he hoped maybe God would speak to him on the ride to the airport, give him wisdom about how exactly to handle the news he needed to share tomorrow.
The day he would tell the rest of his kids about their older brother.
Two weeks had passed since he’d sent Dayne the letter and photos via the studio, and with no word, John could only assume the worst. Dayne’s agent was right. The oldest Baxter son was not a Baxter but a movie star. America owned Dayne Matthews, and in the mix of people guarding his career and shapi
ng his image, no one was willing to allow for something so crazy and unsettling as Dayne meeting his birth family.
John squinted at the road ahead. It was raining harder than before. God, I’m struggling. I want all five of my kids to enjoy this time, to celebrate being together. I don’t want anything to change between us because of . . . of Dayne.
He heard no answer, but a Scripture flashed in his mind: Philippians 4:6-7—verses he and Elizabeth had memorized early in their marriage: Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
He let it run through his head a few times, and the promised peace filled his heart—the way it did every time he thought about the Scripture. He forced a smile and drew a long breath. Worrying about tomorrow wouldn’t make it any easier. And in little more than an hour he was going to meet his granddaughter Malin for the first time, the precious child Luke and Reagan had adopted from China.
Okay, God . . . I get it. Let me enjoy today. In fact, let Your presence be with us tonight, Lord, so that every one of us knows You’re there in our midst.
He checked on Ashley in his rearview mirror again. Yes, this afternoon, this evening would be amazing, no doubt. And tomorrow . . . well, like the Bible said, tomorrow could take care of itself.
The rain had stopped, so Ashley barely noticed the gathering dark clouds. She and her dad had talked about the storms earlier. Everything was supposed to hit north of Bloomington. Besides, they were used to this. April was always stormy in Indiana.
It was four in the afternoon when Ashley pulled her full van into the Baxter driveway and found her regular parking spot. The excitement in the vehicle was fever pitch. Luke was sitting in the seat beside her, and in the back Reagan sat next to baby Malin strapped in her car seat. In the last row, Cole was buckled in beside nearly three-year-old Tommy. The two cousins had kept up a steady conversation the entire trip.
In the front, Ashley and Luke had done the same thing, and already Ashley felt like her brother had never left.
Luke peered through the windshield at the Baxter house. “Doesn’t ever change, does it?”
“Nope.” Ashley’s heart sang within her. They would all be together! She only wished she could’ve had her baby the month before, instead of after the reunion. That way she might’ve gotten around a little easier.
“Hey, Ash—” Luke grinned at her—“you look great. Really. I know I told you at the airport, but you do.”
“Thanks.” She pursed her lips and blew out. “I feel like a house on legs.”
Reagan chuckled. “I didn’t miss that part with little Malin. Adopting her almost felt like cheating.”
As Ashley turned off the engine, she saw her dad pull into the driveway behind her. Kari and Brooke and their kids were gathered at the door, squealing. They ran out and met the group halfway up the walk. There were hugs all around.
John glanced at the sky. “Let’s move it inside. Looks like those clouds could break any second.”
Cole was telling Maddie that Tommy liked him best because he was a boy, but Maddie could be second best. Ashley held hands with Erin’s two oldest daughters—Chloe and Clarisse. Luke was talking to Kari about how much he’d missed Ryan, and Sam was hearing from John about the recent storms.
It wasn’t any one conversation that made Ashley smile. Rather the combination, the chorus of all their voices combined that created a sound the Baxter house had been missing.
It took several minutes to get the children and luggage inside. Hayley, Brooke’s younger daughter, stood just inside with her walker, grinning at everyone who walked past her.
Ashley was one of the last in, and just before she was through the door, lightning flashed nearby. She winced and hesitated, counting slowly. One . . . two . . . three . . . The thunder hit then. Three miles away, if the trick really worked.
Kari came to the door to find her. “You okay? Everyone else is inside.”
“I know,” Ashley said. “Just watching the storm. I don’t want to lose electricity tonight. Landon won’t be here until seven o’clock—and it’ll be later than that if it gets bad.”
“Well . . . I wasn’t going to say anything yet. Not for a few minutes anyway.” Kari studied the sky. “But Bloomington’s under a tornado watch.”
Ashley sighed. “Great.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Kari took her arm and gently led her inside. “Most of the bad weather is north of here.”
“Still . . .”
“Come on.” Kari laughed. “You’re missing all the fun.”
Ashley shut the door behind her. It wasn’t like her to worry about the weather. She’d spent most of her life here in Indiana, dealing every spring with the thunderstorms and tornadoes that came their way. Every year they spent a day or two in the basement, waiting out a warning, but Bloomington had never been hit by anything devastating.
Not as far back as she could remember.
Kari seemed to sense her anxiety. “Hey—” she put her arm around Ashley’s shoulders—“I know how you’re feeling. It’s the pregnancy. Both times I was like that.” She patted Ashley’s middle. A smile played in her eyes. “Irrational fear is part of being a mother.”
“You’re right.” Ashley willed herself to stop thinking about the storms. They were heading through the living room and into the kitchen. “You made Mom’s Spanish casserole, right?”
“Gads of it.” Kari held up her fingers. “These hands haven’t done so much cooking since Thanksgiving.”
“Good!” Ashley stepped away from her sister and opened the fridge. “I’ll toss the salad.”
Another thirty minutes passed before they were all seated around the Baxter dining room table. Kari and Ryan had added a large folding table, so there was seating for everyone, including three high chairs—two that they rounded up from family and one that their dad borrowed from a neighbor. The setup was cozy and would allow everyone a chance to share in the same conversations once dinner got started.
The storm was stronger than before, moving closer. But the sounds of wind and thunder were drowned out by the joyful noise of the family being together, remembering days gone by and catching up on what they’d missed since the last time they had all been in the same room.
There was a knock on the door, and they heard it open. “Off early.”
It was Landon!
“Daddy!” Cole raced from his chair and around the corner. They could hear the sound as Cole jumped into Landon’s arms.
“Hey, sport . . . everyone here?”
“Yep, Daddy, and guess what?” Cole was holding Landon’s hand when they rounded the corner. “Tommy says I’m his best cousin.” Cole looked at Maddie and back at Landon. “Isn’t that nice of him?”
Landon had a wary look in his eyes, and as Ashley stood and headed toward her husband, she hid a smile. Landon knew Cole every bit as well as she did, knew the competition that existed between Cole and Brooke’s spunky Maddie.
“Well, now—” Landon cleared his throat—“I’ll bet Tommy thinks everyone’s his favorite cousin.”
Propped up on an old Yellow Pages book, Tommy’s expression was blank—as if he wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about.
The ones listening to the exchange laughed, and half the table emptied as Erin and Sam and Luke and Reagan exchanged hugs and handshakes with Landon.
Cole returned to his place next to Tommy, and Ashley waited a few feet away for her turn with Landon. Her heart soared as the scene played out, because Landon belonged here. He was part of this, the way he always should’ve been part of it. What if she hadn’t married him? What if she’d allowed herself to remain stubborn and jaded the rest of her life? A shiver passed along her arms and at the base of her neck.
When everyone was making their way back to their seats, she stepped in and gave Landon a side hug—the best she could d
o with the baby taking up so much space in front of her. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered near his ear.
“Things were slow at the station, but we’re all on call until the tornado watch lifts.” He kissed her and then hesitated. “You okay?” He searched her eyes. “You look scared.”
“The storm.” She made a face.
Concern became fine lines around his eyes. “Storms don’t scare you, Ash.”
“I know.” She let her head fall against his shoulder. “Kari thinks it’s because of the baby.”
“It’ll be fine.” This time he kissed her forehead. “It’s supposed to be gone by midnight.” He led her to the table. “Besides, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
As they took their places, Ashley noticed her father. His eyes shone, but they were distant. Probably remembering Mom. That, or thinking about how he was going to tell the others they had an older brother. She watched him, the way he surveyed each of his kids and their families. When everyone had quieted down, he smiled. “Let’s pray.”
Around the two tables it took a few seconds for everyone to hold hands. Then their dad closed his eyes. “Lord, thank You for bringing us all back together safely.” There was a pinch in his voice, and he hesitated.
Ashley peeked at him and saw Ryan put his hand on Dad’s shoulder. She felt her own throat tighten as he continued praying.
“It’s the greatest thing in the world having everyone together, Father. We thank You for allowing it. Thank You for each one here, for the lives we lead and the blessings You’ve given us this past year. We pray that Your hand of blessing be on this meal and on these next few days together.” Again he seemed overcome by emotion. “If it be Your will, Lord, please . . . give Elizabeth a window tonight. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
After he finished, there was a moment of somber silence, a knowing that their mom was being missed by all of them—even if they hadn’t talked about her yet. The conversations would be there—the admissions from each of them about how much they missed her.
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