Epilogue

Only God knew how the five of them had ended up sitting together on the back field of Seth and Tabitha Zimmerman's property on Independence Day.

A year ago, Tabitha wouldn't have imagined that she would leave the safety of her house, let alone be in the company of Seth Zimmerman, his sister, Melonie, her fiancé, Lott, and Lott's sister, Bethanne.

Obviously God had had other plans.

At one time, she'd been their teacher. Now she was married to Seth and living in the house that she'd been both afraid to leave and afraid to stay in for the rest of her life. Smoothing the red-and-white-checked tablecloth underneath her, she leaned back on her hands and watched the sun slowly make its descent in the west. Chance, who was sprawled out by her side, stretched a paw.

"You look awfully pensive, Tabitha," Melonie said. "What's wrong? Did you forget something in the house?"

"She couldn't have done that," Seth quipped. "We have half the kitchen out here."

Seth was right. They'd made BLTs and fried chicken for their picnic. There were also three carafes of fresh lemonade, two bags of potato chips, a container of pickled cucumbers, thick slices of watermelon, and giant chocolate-cherry cookies individually wrapped in waxed paper. With the cheese, crackers, apples, and cold cider Melonie and Bethanne had brought, it was a feast.

"My husband's right," Tabitha said, feeling her cheeks heat. They'd only been married one month, and she was still a bit giddy that Seth was hers.

"I like how that sounds," Seth teased.

She chuckled. "What I was actually thinking about was how different my life was last year at this time."

Melonie nodded. "A lot sure has changed in a year." She reached out and squeezed Seth's arm. "A year ago, I barely spoke to you."

"Or me," Lott said. "And now you're my fiancée, Mel."

She giggled. "Sometimes I think my mother's head is spinning."

Turning to Seth, Lott added, "Years before that, I was so messed up, I actually told Bethanne that she shouldn't be writing to you in prison. Even though the reason you were there was because you saved her."

Tabitha tensed, half worried that Seth would be upset that Lott brought up his incarceration, but Seth shrugged it off.

"I'm glad you wrote me that note, Bethanne, though I still say you didn't owe me anything. You never did."

"And I still think differently," Bethanne said.

"How about this? I'm glad to call myself your friend."

"Me too," Tabitha told her.

"Me three," Melonie said with a smile.

"I'm glad too," Bethanne whispered.

Remembering something Bethanne had mentioned last time they'd talked, Tabitha said, "Are you still thinking about moving?"

"I am."

Lott grimaced but didn't try to interrupt.

"Where are you going to go?" Melonie asked.

Bethanne shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't thought of any details yet. I'm feeling the need for a fresh start, though."

"Is it because the memories here in Crittenden County are too difficult?" Seth asked.

"Oh no." She paused, then seemed to find her voice. "It's because no one seems able to look at me without remembering the worst day of my life. Or the fact that I'm more than that, you know? Everyone likes to see me as a victim. I don't want to be a victim anymore."

Tabitha knew exactly how that felt. "I can understand you feeling that way."

But instead of accepting Tabitha's words and moving on, Bethanne shook her head. "I appreciate your kindness, Tabitha, but I have some responsibility for what happened between me and Peter. I should never have walked off with him. If I had followed the rules, Peter would have never attacked me."

Lott glowered. "Don't put Peter's actions on your shoulders, Bethanne."

"Your brother's right," Tabitha said. "Bethanne, you need to forgive yourself."

Bethanne stared at her intently. "Is that what you did?"

"I think so. But I think I finally heard God's words one day at home. I was standing at my window, watching Seth chop wood and wondering why so many people couldn't forgive me for divorcing Leon. But then God whispered that instead of wondering why other people weren't forgiving me, I should be wondering why I hadn't forgiven myself." Remembering that moment like it was yesterday, she added, "It was pretty powerful."

"But you didn't do anything wrong," Bethanne said. "What did you blame yourself for?"

"I made some hasty decisions. Getting married so fast. Trusting my parents' judgment more than my own. And I stayed with Leon for longer than I should have."

"What did you say to God?"

"I told Him all that ... and then He quietly reminded me that He's already forgiven me for my transgressions, so I should do the same." Thinking about just how far she'd come, Tabitha added, "Bethanne, I don't blame you for wanting a fresh start, but you might want to remember that the Lord has already offered you one."

Her expression softened. "Maybe one day I'll be able to accept that. I hope so."

"Me too."

Melonie stood up. "The sun has set. I think we should all get ready to watch the fireworks."

Lott chuckled. "You're right, Mel. Let's think about brighter things."

Right away, they all got busy. Tabitha and the other women put the empty containers in the picnic baskets while the men gathered their trash and put it in the garbage bag they'd brought.

And then the first burst of fireworks lit up the sky.

"Come here, Tab," Seth said as he stretched out on the tablecloth.

As Chance shifted again, she lay down on her back beside him as Melonie, Lott, and Bethanne got situated too. Then there was only silence. Everything was dark and so still.

Seth reached for her hand. For a second, Tabitha felt as if they were alone. No, more than that. As if she and Seth were the only two people in Crittenden County. Only them, the warm air, and the solid ground beneath them.

But then a huge red and gold starburst lit up the sky.

All five of them gasped.

It was beautiful and so vibrant.

Amazing.

But as the starburst slowly fizzled into golden dots and then vanished from sight, it became just a memory.

Just another memory to hold on to while darkness surrounded her again.

No, that wasn't right. She was surrounded by friends and holding her husband's hand on a piece of land that she'd fought hard to keep. Her stomach was full and her heart was fuller.

But even more importantly, her focus was on the sky above.

Just waiting for the next glorious thing to appear.

Anticipating it.

She reckoned that was a fitting metaphor for life. For everything.