By the sixth month he made up his mind.
He contacted the PRCA and, given the circumstances, permission was granted. Another rider gave him a room at his ranch in California where Cody practiced two months straight. That January in Denver, when the season started, Cody took a seat on his first competitive bull in three seasons. By then he had a reason, an intensity, a battle even greater than the one he’d waged against anger or disease.
This time the dragon that needed slaying was sorrow, a sorrow that would kill him if he didn’t fight it. With every amazing bull ride that season, he battled the sadness, the aching way he missed her. And with every ride he could feel her there, beside him. In him. He didn’t fly from one rodeo to the next the way he used to. This time he bought a trailer like Ali’s, and parked it in familiar places adjacent to the rodeos. Places where he and Ali had first found each other, places where he could sit outside and remember.
The season was a wild and reckless one, taking on bulls with a confidence that defied understanding. People in Pro Rodeo circles wondered if grief had made Cody Gunner crazy, getting on the back of a bull when his body held just one lung. A single jab of a bull’s horn and he wouldn’t make it out of the arena.
Cody didn’t care. The season was something he had to do, had to experience, and in December he stood in the winner’s circle, the national champion a third time.
A few days later he flew back to Colorado to get his things and tell Ali’s parents good-bye. His family was in Atlanta; he wanted to be there, too. That week, one afternoon he found Ali’s mother in the garden and handed her his championship buckle.
“It belongs to you,” he told her.
And it did. Because without Ali, without knowing her and loving her and missing her with an intensity stronger than any bucking bull, he would never have competed. He certainly never would’ve won. So the buckle belonged to her family—it was the one Ali had always wanted.
The season served its purpose.
Along the way Cody learned the truth about sorrow, and that was this: it would never leave. And so he did what Ali would’ve done. He took a deep breath, held it, and rushed full on toward it. He embraced it and entertained it, and finally he made peace with it.
Epilogue
Cody opened a horse farm on a ranch outside Atlanta, and a year later his parents and Carl Joseph moved onto an adjacent piece of land. Some days, on warm evenings when Ace was in the pasture, Cody would squint from the back porch of his house, and always he would hear her voice.
Every time you ride Ace, every time you look at him, I want you to see me…
And he did, but not the way she had looked that last morning, thin and pale, breathing good-byes. Rather, he saw her alive and well and holding her breath, strong in the saddle, flying around a cloverleaf of barrels.
The way he would always see her.
Now that the rodeo world knew Ali’s story, Cody had no choice but to leave everything about her competitive years to the ages, a story that would be told again and again as young riders came up through the ranks. But the real story, who Ali was away from rodeo, would always belong to only a handful of people, the way she had belonged to a handful of people.
And most of all, she would belong to him.
His favorite photo of Ali was taken on their wedding day. She was smiling, wearing her long white dress, daisies in her hair, eyes shining, convinced she would beat cystic fibrosis, that the bond between the two of them was stronger than medicine or disease or even time.
Whenever Cody stopped and looked at the picture, he was convinced of the same thing. Though she’d been wrong about beating the disease, she was right about one thing: The bond between them would remain until his dying day.
Flesh had failed Ali Daniels. But love never did; it never would. No matter how far the years took him from Ali’s life, her love would live on.
Because it lived on in him.
Author’s Note
This story was inspired by the hundred or so people each year who donate a lung to someone they love, someone with cystic fibrosis. All for the chance to buy a little time, maybe a thousand tomorrows, maybe a few more or less.
Ali Daniels’ experience with CF was individual to her, the way the disease is to each person who has it. Her situation was not intended to illustrate an average case or average limitations. I tried to keep her situation within the realms of possibility and reality.
Exercise is encouraged for people with cystic fibrosis, but not in a place with allergens and irritants that might harm the lungs. My research showed that it would be highly unusual for a person with CF to run barrels on the Pro Rodeo circuit. But determination and will made Ali Daniels special.
I chose to write about CF because of a little boy named Matt who has the disease. He plays basketball on my husband’s fourth-grade team. For Matt, there’s no talk about his future in the sport. No worries about potential scholarships down the road. These are the good old days for Matt. He plays today because he loves it. He plays like an all-star, with his entire heart. In the same spirit that Ali Daniels rode horses.
In 1970 a child born with CF was expected to live only to age ten. That number has risen to a life expectancy today of thirty-two years. If you’re interested in volunteering or helping out the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, you can contact them at www.CFF.org. Their motto is “Adding tomorrows every day.”
In addition, though I set this story within the context of a real Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association tour, the characters are completely fictional. Any similarities to real characters or events are entirely coincidental and unintentional. I received a great deal of help from professional cowboys and rodeo organizers in researching this book. Errors in accuracy are mine.
A Thousand Tomorrows is about the sort of love that is patient and kind, a love that always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. A love that never fails. Cody and Ali showed us that love is not the way around our problems. It is the way through them. Remember, when all things have passed away, these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.
You can find out about my other books or our family’s adoption story or my Red Gloves Christmas series by visiting my website, www.KarenKingsbury.com. Sign up for my newsletter, and I’ll update you every month or so about new books or speaking events. Drop me a note at my guestbook or by emailing me at [email protected].
May God bless you and yours… until next time,
Karen Kingsbury
Reading Group Guide
1. Why do you think Cody buries his feelings inside when his father leaves?
2. Carl Joseph looks up to his older brother, Cody. But Cody learns some invaluable lessons from Carl Joseph. What kind of role does Carl Joseph play in Cody’s life?
3. At the end of chapter two, we learn that Cody rides bulls because it is the only way he can live with his rage. Why do you think this is?
4. Why does Ali keep her illness a secret? How do you think keeping this secret makes her feel?
5. How did Ali’s sister’s death shape the person Ali became?
6. How do you feel about the way Ali’s mother handled her daughter’s choices? How would you have handled a sick child’s decision to do something they loved that might shorten their life?
7. At the end of chapter four, Ali gives Cody bull-riding advice. Why does Ali choose that moment to talk to him if they hadn’t spoken in the two years they’d been competing side by side?
8. How do you think Cody’s and Ali’s isolation from their peers draws them together?
9. After his and Ali’s lung surgeries, Cody forgives his father and reunites with his family. How does Ali’s love influence his decision? On a personal level, have you experienced reconciliation in a key relationship? Explain.
10. In their last month together Ali gives her dearest possession, her horse Ace, to Cody. What does her gift symbolize to both her and Cody?
11. How does Cody show he has strong be
liefs? How does Ali?
12. Cody and Ali know their life together is limited, yet they choose to enjoy each day as if there were no tomorrow. How do you think their lives would have changed had Ali lived longer?
13. If you knew someone you loved had only three years to live, would you marry him or her? Why? Why not?
14. What did this story teach you about cystic fibrosis? What personal experience do you have with this disease?
15. Has reading A Thousand Tomorrows affected your life in any way? How?
Just Beyond the Clouds
DEDICATED TO…
Donald, my prince charming.
We’ve reached a new year, another season in life, and still I cannot imagine this ride without you. Our kids are flourishing, and so much of that is because of you, because of your commitment to me and to them. You are the spiritual leader, the man of my dreams who makes this whole crazy, wonderful adventure possible. I thank God for you every day. I am amazed at the way you blend love and laughter, tenderness and tough standards to bring out the best in our boys. 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 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 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 here and home into a brand-new big world. Seventeen tells me it won’t be much longer. Especially as you near the end of your junior year. Sometimes I find myself barely able to exhale. The ride is so fast at this point that I can only try not to blink, so I won’t miss a minute of it. I see you growing and unfolding like the most beautiful springtime flower, becoming interested in current events and formulating godly viewpoints that are yours alone. The same is true in dance, where you are simply breathtaking onstage. 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 would call and confuse 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 onstage, 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. That 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 that 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.” 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 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. Sound asleep 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, 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.
Acknowledgments
This book couldn’t have come together without the help of many people. First, a special thanks to my friends at Hachette Book Group, who continue to believe in my books, and my ministry of Life-Changing Fiction™. Thank you!
Also thanks to my amazing agent, Rick Christian, president of Alive Communications. I am more amazed as every day passes at your sincere 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 most of all. 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 that 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.
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, or 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 your work.” Thank you for believing in me long before anyone else ever did. Thanks also to my sisters, who help out with my business when the workload is too large to see around. I appreciate you!
Especially thanks to Tricia Kingsbury, my sister who runs a large part of my business life
. God brought you to me, Tricia, when things in my office were insanely crazy, and I’ll be grateful for always. You are my sister, my friend, and now my assistant. It doesn’t get any better than that. 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, especially my sister Sue, who is a new addition to my staff, and to Shannon Kane and Melissa Kane, my nieces, who helped me with major projects this past year. Thanks to Ann and Sylvia, and to all of you who pray for me and my family. We couldn’t do this without you. Thanks to all of you 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.
Of course, the greatest thanks goes to God Almighty, the most wonderful Author of all—the Author of life. 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.
Forever in Fiction™
A special thanks to Al and Sandee Kirkwood, who won the Forever in Fiction™ auction at the YWCA benefit in Washington State. The Kirkwoods chose to honor their daughter, Kelley Sue Gaylor, by naming her Forever in Fiction™.
Kelley Gaylor is thirty-nine, married to Dean, her husband of sixteen years. They have three children: Allie, twelve; Matt, ten; and Joey, five. One of Kelley’s many blessings is the fact that both sets of their parents live close by, and that the entire family gets together often.
A Thousand Tomorrows / Just Beyond the Clouds Page 19
