God Bless the Broken Road

by Jennifer Dornbush

  Darren/Dad

  Amber folds the letter, unable to catch her breath. Bree’s arms fold around her.

  “I’ve been hurting so much that I lost sight of the most important blessing that your dad ever gave me.”

  “The house?”

  “No. You.”

  Peace flows in waves over Amber. Looking up, she sees that Patti is coming up behind them. Amber extends a smile and an embrace.

  “Mom, can we try not to be sad anymore?” says Bree.

  “I . . . Yes. But . . . I’ll be honest. I’m not even sure I know how anymore . . .”

  “All you have to do is just think of a good memory about Daddy.” Bree smiles at Patti, and Amber senses some secret bond between them.

  “Okay. I can try.”

  “Show her how, Grandma!”

  Patti turns to Amber with a playful smile. “Have I ever told you about Darren’s go-kart adventure?”

  “What? No. This oughta be good.”

  As Patti starts the story, Bree’s hands slip into Patti’s and Amber’s. Gratefulness swells in the midst of fallen heroes . . . Darren’s legacy . . . and a family restored.

  As the earthy spring air enters her, Amber feels her life starting a new season.

  And soon, she is laughing.

  chapter sixty-five

  Cody’s Camaro

  CODY PUTS THE finishing touches on a door panel paint job on a Jeep SUV when he hears the familiar clinking of a car engine parking near the office door.

  Amber.

  Cody brushes his hair off his brow as Amber springs out of the van with a huge smile. Bree bounces from the passenger side.

  Wow. Something big has happened.

  Cody wipes the grease off his hands as Joe steps in from the office to join them all.

  “Hey, Cody! Hey, Uncle Joe!” Bree wraps her arms around Joe. Cody greets her with a fist bump.

  “Gimme those keys and I’ll pull that van of yours in here. Take a look at that rattle,” says Joe.

  “Ah . . . Oh, well, that’s not why I stopped, but sure . . . I probably should.”

  “Only take a second. On the house.”

  “Thanks, Joe.” She tosses him the keys.

  He heads out, and Cody clears away a few boxes so they can fit Amber’s van in the stall.

  “Actually, I came by to say hello. Heard you’re gonna be sticking around Clarksville for a bit.”

  “I am.”

  “I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. And especially for Bree.”

  “Can I drive my kart?”

  Cody looks for Amber’s approval.

  “Yes. You can.”

  “It’s around back with the others.”

  Bree takes off.

  “You seem . . . different.” Cody quickly corrects. “Good different.”

  “I am different. A lot’s happened in the past few days. Good things.”

  “With me, too.”

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Maybe sometime.” I really don’t want to muck up this moment. “You?”

  “Maybe sometime.”

  “Sounds like we both did some growing.” Cody likes the comfortable feeling settling in between them. “I may have pushed things too . . . too fast. I mean, I know I did,” says Cody. “But if you’re willing to give me a second chance, I promise you I’m going to listen and take things slow . . . as a team.”

  “I pushed you away out of my fear. And I know what to do with that fear now. It’s not going to run my life anymore.”

  “I think we both deserve second chances.”

  “Isn’t that what grace is all about?” She smiles at him and brushes her hand against his arm.

  Yes! Thank you, God! Now, please don’t let me mess this up!

  Whoa. Did I just say a prayer?

  Bree zips past them with a huge grin on her face as she circles the parking lot in her kart.

  “Slow down, Speed Racer!” Cody calls to her. “She’s a good little driver. Really has a natural feel for the road.”

  “That kart has been her lifeline. I’m just sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

  “She may wanna consider a career in racing.”

  “Whoa. Don’t push it, buddy.”

  “I’ll teach her everything she needs to know.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” teases Amber.

  Cody flags Bree to the garage. “Nice job there!”

  “What? Do I have stop?” Bree says.

  “Just for a second. There’s something I want to show you two,” says Cody.

  Cody leads Amber and Bree out of the garage to a vehicle blanketed by a large brown tarp.

  “Is that . . . don’t tell me they were able to fix that thing.”

  “Not a chance. But Joe and I worked out a plan. He had this little beauty tucked away in his junk heap. I restored it for him as a way to pay off my wrecked one. I’m going to be taking it around the local circuit for a while. Until I improve a little more.”

  “That sounds like a good plan.”

  “Come on! Let’s see it!” Bree dances around the car.

  “Drumroll, please!” says Cody, pulling the tarp off.

  The tarp slips to the floor, unveiling a restored Camaro decked out in pink camouflage. Exactly like Bree’s go-kart. Cody pins his gaze on the girls, eager for their raw reaction.

  For a moment, they are speechless as both sets of eyes pop in amazement.

  “Cody . . . you . . . I can’t believe this,” Amber barely whispers.

  “It has the Screaming Eagle logo on it!” Bree says, running up to the car to glide her fingers over the hood.

  “Oh my goodness. Cody, does this mean . . . ?”

  “You’re racing for my dad!”

  Bree’s eyes start to tear. What? Bree crying! Oh no, that I really can’t take. Cody kneels beside Bree.

  “That’s right. I’m dedicating my next race to him. Saturday. Will you be there?”

  Amber nods. “We can’t wait. Right, Bree?”

  “Thank you!” Bree wraps her arms around Cody’s neck and leans into his ear. “I’m glad you and my mom are friends again.”

  Cody sighs and hugs Bree back. Me, too.

  He finally took the right risk.

  chapter sixty-six

  Winner

  ONCE AGAIN, JOE invites Amber and Bree to a bird’s-eye view of Saturday’s race from his RV rooftop. This time Patti joins them, as do Rosie, Karena, Bridgette, and Hannah. They are even able to hoist Nelson and his wheelchair up there via a crane.

  All through the race, Amber notes that the announcers can’t seem to say enough about Cody’s pink Chevy Camaro decked out with the Screaming Eagle logo and Darren’s unit number.

  Amber observes that, for the most part, Cody is driving obediently under Joe’s command. Even though there are several times he tries to talk Joe into a risky maneuver.

  Amber is all nerves through much of the race, especially as Cody approaches the final two laps. He’s been holding third position for most of the race. Her stomach ties up in knots. She braces herself next to Joe, bending her ear to hear his every instruction to Cody.

  “Bear down on the lead from the outside,” Joe shouts through the headset. “Good. Now let off the gas. Head for the high line out of the third turn.”

  Amber watches as the pink camo falls slightly behind, allowing him to take second position.

  “After you hit the apex, make a sharp turn to the low line right onto the edge of the apron. Now! Now!”

  It sounds dangerous to Amber, and she can’t believe what she’s seeing as Cody’s car hits the apex of the turn and then rips diagonally down the track out of turn four, slicing between the first-and-second position cars.

  “Yes!” Joe yells, jumping up and down. “Yes! Hit it hard. You got this!”

  Cody blasts down the frontstretch in first position. He’s several car lengths ahead as he approaches the first turn of the final lap.


  The knots in her stomach unravel. “Goooooooo!” Amber screams, her own voice drowning in the shouts of everyone around her.

  He manages to hold position out of the second . . . down the backstretch . . . no one can touch him as he enters turn three . . . and he turbo boosts out of the fourth.

  Cody’s car zips down the frontstretch and across the finish line. The checkered flag shoots up over the track.

  Amber and Bree throw themselves into each other’s arms, screaming their fool heads off and dancing around the roof.

  Cody is finally . . . a winner.

  chapter sixty-seven

  God Bless the Broken Road

  AMBER AMBLES OUTSIDE at the hush of daybreak. The gentle, warm light of the rising sun creeps across the lawn in front of the cabin. She collects an armful of wildflowers that have sprung up around the outside edge of her yard. To brighten the dining table for breakfast. Along with the blueberries she picked from a wild bush near the lake.

  The grass needs mowing. And the weeds around the outside of the cabin are thigh-high. She’ll have to dig them out. Deep roots. Maybe she could plant some flowers in their place. Hostas up the sidewalk would be an inexpensive fix for a lush effect. And what about an herb garden on the side where there’s shade in the afternoon? Fresh basil and mint. Yum.

  Amber drinks it all in. A restorative gift. A blessing. All of it so beautiful to her now. Every last little paint-peeled board and cracked shingle. The screenless windows and the sagging front stoop. The dirt drive. Her rust-bucket minivan with the cracked windshield and leaking oil.

  And, of course, the blessing . . . still dozing inside.

  * * *

  “THIS IS THE day. This is the day. That the Lord has made.” Amber tiptoes over to Bree’s side of the bed, waking her with the familiar song. “That the Lord has made.” She pauses a moment.

  “We will rejoice,” Bree sings softly, coming out of her sleep.

  “We will rejoice,” Amber echoes.

  “And be glad in it.”

  “And be glad in it.” Amber takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to Bree.

  Bree scoots herself up from under the covers.

  Amber hands her a yellow-striped sailor shirt and a navy skirt. “I thought you might like to wear this for church.”

  “Do you think it’ll fit?” Bree looks at the garments.

  “Only one way to know.” Amber helps Bree change, finding that the clothes fit to a tee since Bree has grown in the last two years.

  “How does it look?”

  “Perfect.” Amber adjusts the neckline. “Now finish getting yourself ready and meet me in the kitchen. I’m making pancakes.” Amber plants a kiss on Bree’s forehead. Bree hops out of bed and pulls the skirt on.

  “I like your dress. You look pretty.”

  “Why, thank you.” I feel pretty. And very much alive. Thank you, God. I never thought I’d be here again.

  Amber lights into the kitchen, gathering the ingredients she needs for breakfast.

  “One cup water to two cups pancake mix. One teaspoon butter or oil. One egg.” She reads from the back of the box. “And blueberries. Definitely blueberries.”

  Amber grabs a measuring cup from the cupboard and heads to the sink. She lifts the glass up to the window to make sure the water line is level on the one-cup line.

  That’s when she sees it. Through the glass cup. On the windowsill.

  “Bree! Bree! Come here!”

  “What?” Bree calls from the bedroom.

  “You’ve got to see this!” Bree dashes to her mother’s side. “That wasn’t there yesterday, was it?”

  They peer down at Matt 2, soaking up the sun. He’s now a sturdy sprout about the height of a quarter, with one tiny leaf unfurling at the base. Vibrant. Reaching for the light.

  Bree shakes her head. “Wow! Hey, Matt Two! Welcome to the world.”

  “His soil looks dry.” Amber pours the water from the glass measurer into Matt’s pot. “Drink up, little Mustard Tree Matt. You’re gonna need it.”

  Bree can’t stop staring at the plant. “I didn’t doubt for a second you’d be back.”

  “Maybe you should bring him to Sunday school and show Hannah and the kids.”

  “No. Let’s wait until he’s bigger and stronger. I don’t want to disturb him.”

  “But didn’t you say that plants like voices? Think of all the people who will talk to him at church.” Amber winks at her daughter.

  “Good point. He’d like that.”

  “Why don’t you grab a shoebox and that sweater he likes so we can transport him safely?”

  Bree rushes back into the bedroom.

  Amber’s thoughts remain on the thriving green sprout in the pot. If God can use faith the size of a mustard seed and as fragile as this plant and turn it into a strong, rigid tree, able to withstand any element . . . then . . .

  God, I’m just coming out into the world again, but I’m still as weak as Matt right now. Please make me an unwavering tree of faith someday.

  * * *

  FOR THE FIRST time in over two years, Amber enters the sanctuary of Clarksville Community Church. She and Bree travel down the center aisle, making their way to one of the front pews, where Hannah and Nelson are sitting. Amber nods to Joe and Cody as she passes by and slips into the row in front of them.

  “It’s good to see you here.” Joe pats her shoulder as Amber takes her seat. Amber turns slightly to give him a smile.

  “It’s good to be here.”

  “You look radiant,” Cody adds.

  “Thank you. I feel radiant.”

  In the front, seated behind the pulpit, Amber sees the choir, with Bridgette and Karena in their usual places, both beaming as they make eye contact with Amber.

  Pastor Williams appears at the pulpit, and Amber rises with the congregants.

  “This is the day that the Lord has made!” proclaims Pastor Williams.

  “We will rejoice and be glad in it,” Amber responds with the enthusiastic crowd.

  “Amen! This is truly a joyous day for many reasons. And one of those reasons is that a dear sheep of this fold has returned to us. Amber Hill, we’re so blessed to have you back.”

  The crowd breaks into applause. If even one sheep should lose its way. It’s so nice to be home. Warmth flows through Amber, rising to her cheeks. She really didn’t expect such fanfare. Nor does she think she deserves it.

  Pastor Williams settles the crowd. “We are also so grateful because this talented young lady has decided to pick up her guitar again and bless us today with a song to start our time of worship. Amber? You ready?”

  The pastor’s head turns to Amber, and she slips out of the pew as the rest of the congregation take their seats. She moves to the front of the church, gazing at the familiar family staring back at her. Bridgette hands her a guitar, and Amber finds her place at the mic stand, placed off to the side of the choir. Her fingers find the strings and form a familiar position. She strums a light chord and steps closer to the mic.

  “Sometimes God’s plan for our lives is not what we hoped it would be. We get stuck and we find we’re on a very broken road that we would have never chosen for ourselves. And when that happens, it’s easy to become fearful and angry. I spent a lot of time being those things. I was turned inward, thinking I could help myself, instead of outward toward God to be my strength.

  “I’m grateful now. Because that road brought me back to Him. And I can see now, looking back, that He was sending me blessings all along the way, including all of you. I was just too self-absorbed to see them.”

  Amber, deep in contemplation, barely lifts her eyes beyond the end of the mic. Everything about her is steady and strong. And real.

  “I’m proof that anyone, no matter what the broken road they’re traveling, can learn to let go of fear. Anxiety. Pain and grief. Surrender it all to God. He’s always there for you. Even when you feel like you can’t see Him. He’s ready to show you the way. Ready to bless you.”<
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  When Amber finally raises her glance across the packed sanctuary, it’s completely silent. Not a single movement. All eyes turned to her.

  She scans the crowd. Cody sends her a reassuring nod from his seat. Hannah has her arm around Bree, who is leaning against her. Beside them, Nelson occupies an aisle space, sitting somehow straighter, somehow stronger than she’s ever seen before.

  And then, a flicker of movement catches Amber’s glance as the side door to the sanctuary opens and a straggling worshipper enters.

  Patti. In her Sunday brunch best.

  She starts down the side aisle, her eyes locking with Amber’s for a moment and unleashing a small, knowing smile. Amber returns it with a grateful one.

  She strums the opening bars of the song as Patti quickly makes her way to the front and finds Bree, who loops her yellow-striped sailor arm through Grandma’s.

  Darren, can you see this?

  This is the day the Lord has made.

  I am rejoicing!

  And so glad to be in it.

  Amber draws in a breath, and her lips part. The melody drifts through the church.

  Praise . . . after a long, dark journey.

  Acknowledgments

  THANK YOU TO the Source of all Creation. None of this exists without You. Thank You for seeding this idea, guiding the story, and protecting this project and everyone involved—both the motion picture and the novel. A little mustard seed of faith started this story and carried it through. You have truly blessed the road that brought this story to life.

  Thanks to Harold Cronk, the film’s director, for that call one summer day that started off: “Hey, I have this idea . . .” We built a beautiful story on screen and on page! May its blessings and impact reach further than we could have ever imagined and go deeper than we would have dared dream.

  To my parents, Ron and Gail, and my in-laws, Gordon and Mina, who have always been there for me and showed me what faith looks and acts like. Thank you for also being on set to cheer us on and be background talent. It’s fun to see your faces on that fifty-foot screen! And it’s no coincidence that you are all in that church scene together. You have always been an active part of the church—a legacy that has been passed on and on.