Praise for the Christiansen Family Series
Always on My Mind
“The fourth book in Warren’s Christiansen Family series shows this writer’s gift for creating flawed yet redeemable characters. . . . As always, the spiritual message shines and is an integral, purposeful part of the story.”
ROMANTIC TIMES
“Readers will . . . delight in the romance that unfolds in spite of Casper’s and Raina’s intentions.”
BOOKLIST
“Always on My Mind is a beautiful story filled with hope and faith that is captivating and powerful from page 1 to the very end.”
FRESH FICTION
When I Fall in Love
“[When I Fall in Love is] an exquisite romance. Profoundly touching on the topic of facing fears, this book is a true gem.”
ROMANTIC TIMES
“Readers who are already enamored of the sprawling Christiansen clan will feel even more connected, while those new to Warren will be brought right into the fold.”
BOOKLIST
“Warren has a knack for creating captivating and relatable characters that pull the reader deep into the story.”
RADIANT LIT
It Had to Be You
“It Had to Be You is a sigh-worthy, coming-into-her-own romance highlighting the importance of family, the necessity of faith, and how losing yourself for the right reasons can open your heart to something beautiful.”
SERENA CHASE, USA Today
“This character-driven tale with a beautiful love story . . . gives excellent spiritual insight and a gorgeously written look at what it means to surrender and let go.”
ROMANTIC TIMES
“Susan May Warren delivers another beautiful, hope-filled story of faith that makes the reader fall further in love with this captivating and intriguing family. . . . Powerful storytelling gripped me from beginning to end . . . [and] lovable characters ensure that the reader becomes invested in their lives.”
RADIANT LIT
“A gem of a story, threaded with truth and hope, laughter and romance. Susan May Warren brings the Christiansen family to life, as if they might be my family or yours, with her smooth writing and engaging storytelling.”
RACHEL HAUCK, bestselling author of The Wedding Dress
Take a Chance on Me
“Warren’s new series launch has it all: romance, suspense, and intrigue. It is sure to please her many fans and win her new readers, especially those who enjoy Terri Blackstock.”
LIBRARY JOURNAL
“Warren . . . has crafted an engaging tale of romance, rivalry, and the power of forgiveness.”
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
“Warren once again creates a compelling community full of vivid individuals whose anguish and dreams are so real and relatable, readers will long for every character to attain the freedom their hearts desire.”
BOOKLIST
“A compelling story of forgiveness and redemption, Take a Chance on Me will have readers taking a chance on each beloved character!”
CBA RETAILERS + RESOURCES
“Warren’s latest is a touching tale of love discovered and the meaning of family.”
ROMANTIC TIMES
Visit Tyndale online at www.tyndale.com.
Visit Susan May Warren’s website at www.susanmaywarren.com.
TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
The Wonder of You
Copyright © 2015 by Susan May Warren. All rights reserved.
Cover photograph copyright © by Customimages/Glowimages.com. All rights reserved.
Designed by Jennifer Phelps
Edited by Sarah Mason
Published in association with the literary agency of The Steve Laube Agency, 5025 N. Central Ave., #635, Phoenix, AZ 85012.
Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version,® NIV.® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
The Wonder of You is a work of fiction. Where real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements of the novel are drawn from the author’s imagination.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Warren, Susan May, date.
The wonder of you / Susan May Warren.
pages ; cm. — (Christiansen family)
ISBN 978-1-4143-7845-9 (sc : alk. paper)
I. Title.
PS3623.A865W66 2015
813'.6—dc23 2015005655
ISBN 978-1-4964-0696-5 (ePub); ISBN 978-1-4143-8488-7 (Kindle); ISBN 978-1-4964-0697-2 (Apple)
Build: 2015-04-16 16:56:01
For Your glory, Lord
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Map of the Area of Deep Haven and Evergreen Lake
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Preview of You’re the One That I Want
A Note from the Author
About the Author
Discussion Questions
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’M ALWAYS AMAZED and grateful for the team of people the Lord surrounds me with as I write a novel. I’m deeply grateful to so many in helping me craft this story. In particular, I need to thank the following people:
My writing partner, Rachel Hauck, for her ability to help me sort out the real story from the clutter of ideas in my mind.
The amazing David Warren, who is one of the best story crafters I know. Thank you for your brutal honesty, your brainstorming skills, and the fact that you won’t let me write unrealistic men. Thank you for helping me keep it real.
Sarah Erredge, for helping me grasp Amelia—from her photography skills to her experience in Prague to thinking through the man who would capture her heart: the hometown boy or the exotic foreigner. We all know which one you chose!
My lumberjack-tastic sons Peter and Noah Warren, who wear flannel like nobody’s business and make being bearded woodsmen from the north cool.
Andrew Warren, my own exotic prince who swept me up and took me back to foreign lands. Here’s to more adventures!
Steve Laube, my fabulous agent and friend, who always has the right word at the right time.
Karen Watson and Stephanie Broene, who work so hard to help me get it right. Thank you!
Sarah Mason, my talented editor. You bring your A game every time, and I’m so grateful.
The Lord of my life, who calls me to be brave and walk into the unknown, amazing future. I am always awed by the wonder of You.
My dearest Amelia,
I suspect, should you ever read this, it might be on the back of an elephant, while venturing through the jungles of India. Or perhaps in a dugout canoe, paddling down the Amazon. Or even, most likely, while capturing the sunrise over the grasslands of some African country.
For I know God has great plans for you, my beautiful youngest, the one who has always looked beyond the horizon. And inside you is the courage to reach for that horizon. You, more than any of the others, possess an independent spirit to drive you out of the family embrace and into the world. I have no doubt that comes from your father, who always nursed an adventure-seeking spirit. I hope it is also because of your confidence in our love for you
, the surety that you can always come home. But I pray this independent spirit quickens inside enough to push you past your own limited vision to see the one God has for you.
I know the challenge of the youngest is always to discover her own voice in the chorus. Yes, Amelia, you are the culmination of all the wonderful traits I see in your siblings—Darek’s courage, Eden’s loyalty, Grace’s resourcefulness, Casper’s thirst for treasure, and Owen’s singular, focused passion. You are my cherry on top of the sundae.
And yet you are also so much more. You are also unique in the vision God has given you to see the world through His lens. You are beautiful and patient, giving and kind, and the one who helps us see ourselves the way God does—unique and cherished, despite our blemishes. This gift is precious and desperately needed in our world.
Amelia, you help us see others.
I pray that God will also help you see yourself.
It is so easy to get trapped inside the picture we create for ourselves. As the youngest, you’ve been sheltered, overprotected, and constantly advised. If they could, your siblings would arrange for your future, leaving nothing to chance.
Your challenge is to look past the view others choose for you, look past even your own limited perspective, and see the view your heavenly Father has chosen for you. Lay hold of the vision and don’t let go. Do not settle for the expected, the known, only because you can’t see past today’s focal point to all God has for you.
There is more left to discover of Amelia Christiansen, and it will be, to use your word, epic. Break free of your own expectations and see what vista awaits.
Know that you carry my heart with you wherever you go and that I will always be here, waiting to welcome you home, my brilliant, beautiful daughter.
Your mother
THE DANGER OF LIVING in a big family was that to do anything of notice, a person had to go big or go home.
Amelia had leaped, hoping to grab ahold of her dreams, show every one of her five siblings that she was just as amazing as the rest of them.
The whole thing wouldn’t have been so epically tragic if Amelia hadn’t harbored such high hopes.
A year in Prague, chasing her vision of becoming a professional photographer.
Go big . . . or go home.
Amelia moved to take a wider-angle shot of the couple. Sabine, her lush brown hair up in a loopy, messy bun, was caught inside the embrace of her groom, Kirby Hueston, swaying to the Blue Monkeys’ version of “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life.” The song lured couples onto the tiled dance floor, under the twinkling lights strewn from the faux pine trees that framed the reception and pool area of the Mad Moose Motel.
A rock-edged garden area brimming with early blooming violets and irises, combined with the aroma of potted hydrangeas on the tables and the heady smell of the roses twining up the wedding arch, managed to conjure the necessary magic for a north-shore-in-early-May wedding despite the chlorinated air. More, tonight the heavens were cooperating, the stars sprinkling the glass canopy with hopes of tomorrow, the moon a perfect halo of divine approval.
The viewfinder framed a life Amelia Christiansen knew she should want. But after the crash and burn in Prague, and her hightail back to the one-sled-dog town of Deep Haven, Minnesota, she wasn’t sure what she’d describe as her own personal happily ever after.
Adventure? True love?
Maybe just a good reason to get out of bed in the morning. One that didn’t include big brother Darek’s list of housekeeping to-dos at the Evergreen Resort, thank you.
At least she’d landed a gig, albeit free, taking pictures at her friend Sabine’s wedding.
She adjusted the focus on her Canon EOS Rebel, taking a number of burst shots as Kirby twirled Sabine out and back in. She checked the shots, increased the shutter speed, and climbed on a chair, just in case one of the dancers decided to cut into her frame.
“For crying out loud, Amelia, you act like you’re stalking Sasquatch. It’s a wedding, not a show on Animal Planet.” The voice came from behind her, a husky, familiar tenor that could still send ripples through her entire body.
She held out her hand, not taking her eye from the viewfinder, and pinched her fingers together. “Zip it, Seth. I’m working.”
“You’re not working—you’re not even the official photographer.”
She glanced at him. “One does not need to be paid to do a good job. Sabine asked me to take photos, and one of these is going to be—oh, shoot!”
Kirby swung his bride down into a dip as the song ended. And it would have been exactly the breathtaking shot she’d waited for—Sabine’s head thrown back, her dark hair trickling over Kirby’s arms, a smile playing on her lips: the intoxicating surrender of a woman in love.
“I missed it.” Amelia snapped one last smooch between Kirby and Sabine before climbing off the chair, Seth’s hand at her elbow.
“I’ve no doubt you have about three thousand good shots from tonight. Now, please put the camera down and dance with your boyfriend.”
He smiled at the word, and Amelia didn’t have the heart to contradict him. Later she’d remind him that she hadn’t agreed to officially date again. Just because she’d failed in her first post–high school launch attempt didn’t mean she’d returned to pick up where they left off.
Except Seth’s voice could still elicit the sweet tingle of heat inside her, just like it did when he used to find her after a victorious football game, his blond hair wet from his shower, smelling of Axe and turning her world just a little smoky.
He’d always slicked up well off the field also, tonight wearing a white dress shirt, open at the neck, the fabric tight against his frame, honed by hours of cutting wood at his father’s lumber mill. He wore a pair of black dress pants, slim at his waist, creased to a fine edge as if he might be trying to prove something.
His hair brushed his shoulders, begging to be tangled with her fingers, and his brown eyes fixed on her so long it should stop her heart in her chest.
It occurred to her that maybe God had returned her to Deep Haven after a semester abroad because she never should have left.
Seth’s voice turned soft as his hand closed on the camera and urged it out of her grip. “Please put the camera down, and let’s dance.”
On the dance floor, Kyle Hueston, drummer for the Blue Monkeys, took the mic. He’d shucked off his gray vest, wore his black shirt rolled up at the forearms, and beamed at Kirby and Sabine, then the audience. “You might not know it, but my little bro is an Elvis junkie. Kirbs, this one’s for you and your girl.”
Behind Kyle, his wife, Emma, strummed the introductory chords.
His low baritone began, “‘Wise men say only fools rush in . . .’”
Amelia wanted to wince at the way the lyrics rubbed along her conscience, hitting her choices from the past year and, most recently, the blowup at the Christiansen family home. But Seth seemed to not notice as he unwound the camera strap from her neck. “I’ve been waiting all night to have you to myself,” he said.
“Seth—”
He set the camera on a folding chair and took her hand. “It’ll be there when you get back.”
She couldn’t exactly protest with the town watching. Besides, Deep Haven expected them to dance. Probably thought they’d be next.
A thought Seth confirmed as he took her into his arms. “Maybe we should start thinking about our own wedding playlist.”
Oh. Boy.
He wrapped one big linebacker hand behind her; the other he held out for her to grasp.
“Since when did you learn how to do more than sway?” she said as she took it.
“I may not be as fancy as that jerk from Europe, but I am house-trained.”
Yep, clearly something to prove. She couldn’t be sure where he’d gotten his information about her recent unexpected guest, but someone—maybe even a traitor from the house of Christiansen—had spilled her secrets, probably in an attempt to keep her from repeating her mistakes. She’d hunt do
wn her brothers and pry out the truth at the next family campfire.
Now she met Seth’s eyes and recognized hurt behind the veneer of redneck bravado. “Roark is gone, and he’s not coming back.”
There, she said it out loud.
Despite the echo of Roark’s words, rising up to haunt her. We belong together! Please forgive me.
“Mr. James Bond had better not show his face in Deep Haven again,” Seth said, “or he’ll get a taste of what—”
“Seth, stop.” She pressed her hand against his lips.
He made a face. “Sorry. You’re right.”
Amelia leaned into him, winding her arm around his shoulder, laying her head on his chest. The familiarity of being in his broad, safe embrace caught her up, spoke to her. Maybe she needed this, needed Seth. The boy she’d shared her first kiss with. Shared dreams and unraveled her fears with as they lounged under the stars on a beach blanket of stones, the great Lake Superior lapping at their feet.
Always, until she left for Prague, those dreams had included each other.
“Amelia! There you are!” The voice was too high, too loud, to be sober—and of course it belonged to Vivien Calhoun. “Hey, Seth,” she said, then took Amelia’s hand. “C’mon, I got something to show you!”
“Viv, we’re dancing here,” Seth said, a growl in the back of his throat.
“Oh, whatever, Seth—deal. C’mon, Ames.” Vivien tugged her across the dance floor, leaving the hint of something stronger than wine in her wake. Amelia threw an I’ll-be-right-back glance over her shoulder to Seth.
Or maybe she wouldn’t because Vivie pulled her across the reception area—Amelia breaking free long enough to grab her camera—then through the lobby and outside to the parking lot, where the sky shimmered with starlight, the night air sweet with the buds of spring. “What?”
“You’ll see!” Vivie wore her sable hair long and loose in waves, and if possible, she’d lost even more weight since jetting off to an NYC film school, her body rail-thin in a light-blue baby doll dress, her legs as long as the Empire State Building in wedge platform sandals.
She looked like the movie star she longed to become.
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