She had only to check her e-mail to see that much. The meanest, most negative letters often came from readers who called themselves believers. But it wasn't just that. Lauren couldn't understand how a person with faith in Christ could also support the war. She hung her head and listened to the prayer taking place in her dad's room. Prayer wouldn't resolve anything. It wouldn't save her dad. And it wouldn't answer the questions building inside her.

Right on the heels of that thought, a voice raised, the words coming to Lauren as clearly as if she were inside the room rather than in the hallway.

"Lord, we know that all things happen for a reason, but that doesn't mean we understand this. We pray You'll be with our friend, Bill, and that You'll lead him gently from this world to the next. I know You'll be waiting for Him in that beautiful place, the place You've prepared for him. And so we thank You for Bill's life, for every day he's had with us and with his family. Please give them the . . . "

Lauren hugged herself. It took all her strength to stand there and not go into the room, to not join that circle of people. But why? She shook her head. Guilt. Of course. What must her dad think, looking around and seeing her mom and Shane and Emily, special church friends, and even Shane's parents.

But not her.

Dad had been so certain in their talk the day before. When she got to heaven, he'd be waiting for her, just the way he'd waited for her all these years since she'd gone away. And if he was right, if there was a heaven, then her mother would be there, and Shane and Emily. All of them, everyone she loved. But what about her?

What about me, God? She pressed her lips together. Did God strike people dead for being sarcastic? But then, why should He? He hadn't exactly delivered answers to her prayers. The same integrity that drove her to verify sources for her work hither now like a sledgehammer.

God had delivered the answers. Just not the way I wanted. So I walked away. Something she was good at.

Drawing in a steady breath she peeked into the room. They were still praying, and with their eyes closed, heads bowed. Everyone except Shane. He must've heard her, and now he had one eye open and he gave a short nod for her to join him. She skirted silently around the outside of the circle, then slipped in between him and Emily.

Someone was saying, "We thank You most of all for the peace You've given this family. Your peace goes beyond our understanding because it happens on the inside of us, where our hearts are. Not on the outside where life can be so difficult. It's that internal peace You've given them. Restoration and healing, divine redemption, all of it has come to the Andersons in recent days, and we thank You. Your peace should be the goal of every believer, and today, well, we could take a lesson from Bill and Angela and their family."

Lauren felt her sinuses swelling again. Who were these people? They sounded so different. They certainly weren't like the Christians she'd known. But that didn't matter. Because something from the man's prayer caught at her. He mentioned peace, but not the peace she spent her days thinking about - not the kind that would bring an end to the war in Iraq and Afghanistan. What had he said? God's peace happens on the inside, where the heart is, right? Not on the outside where life was hard.

She pressed her hands more tightly into Emily's and Shane's. This was the peace she'd searched for all her life, wasn't it? And though she still wasn't sure how to find it or make it happen on the inside, suddenly, in that moment, standing there beside those she loved most in the world, it seemed possible. As she stayed in the circle of prayer she felt love and acceptance raining down on her, showering her with a feeling she hadn't ever known before. It was a feeling that lasted even after the moment ended and the church friends left.

And it had everything to do with prayer.

The hours passed slowly, with little response from her father, and late that night he slipped into a coma. The loss was enormous. Even with Shane and Emily and her mother huddled close around her, Lauren felt like she was falling from an airplane without a chute. All these years, she'd convinced herself her parents had been wrong, that their actions had cost her a lifetime with Shane and Emily. But she'd forgotten the people they really were. The father who had run along beside her when she learned to ride a bike, the one who went running with her on weekend mornings when she was in junior high, and who once in a while stopped to pick her a bouquet of wildflowers on the way home. He loved her as sure as summer followed spring. Love had indeed driven him to do the things he'd done when she was pregnant with Emily.

A pure, misguided sort of love.

Now that she was home, the good times were clear again. Her dad was a kindhearted, gentle man whose humor and compassion was like balm to a gaping wound that had never come close to healing. This time when the four of them gathered around to pray, Lauren did something she hadn't done since she left home - she silently joined her voice with theirs.

"It won't be long," the doctor told them. "He won't last through the night."

The man was right.

By one o'clock in the morning, her father's breathing slowed. Lauren watched the monitors, counting down as the numbers showing how much oxygen her father was getting fell. 80 . . . 70 . . . 55 . . . 40 . . .

Half an hour later, it was over. Her father's breathing stopped. Lauren stared, disbelieving, at the still form on the bed, then turned to cling to Shane and Emily. She clutched them close, burying her face against them, not sure if the sobs echoing around were hers or theirs. She let them go and turned to her mother, opening her arms and folding them around her as they grieved his loss.

The Galanters were there too, holding onto each other and quietly crying.

How could this be real? How could he be gone? Mere days ago he'd been well enough to sit with them, to visit and hold hands. It had been terrifyingly fast, not at all the way Lauren had thought cancer progressed. But at the same time it was merciful, because there had been little pain, no surgery, no horrendous chemotherapy or radiation. If only she could find some comfort in that. But there was none. Because all she knew was that her daddy was gone, and she'd missed way too many years with him.

Before they left the hospital, her mother looked at each of them, tears still on her cheeks. "For weeks I've been praying for your father to be healed." She folded her arms, hugging herself tightly. "I couldn't understand why God didn't answer me, why the cancer wasn't taken from him. God is the Healer, and we needed His help." She looked intently at Lauren and Shane and Emily, one at a time. "Today while we were praying, God made it clear that my prayers had been heard. Your father, your papa, was healed of something far worse than cancer." She smiled through her tears. "When we found you, Lauren, and you, Shane . . . watching the two of you discover Emily . . . well, Bill was healed of a broken heart."

Sorrow and peace wrapped around her grief, and Lauren held tight to Shane's arm. If only she could have another few weeks with him, another day. Maybe they could've talked about this healing her mother was talking about. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head on Shane's shoulder. Daddy . . . I can't believe you're gone . . . just when we found each other again. The pain was so consuming it threatened to bring her to her knees. But if her mother was right, then it wasn't all sad. It couldn't be.

Daddy had been healed in a way that still seemed unbelievable. And that brought about a sort of hope that held her up, kept her from falling. Next to her, Emily had her arm around both of them. Her daughter's tears came harder now, but something was different. Now her sobs were almost joyful. She looked up at her mother and the connection Lauren felt between the two of them was stronger than ever. And suddenly Lauren understood the joy in Emily's tears. She smiled at her daughter and felt the mix of sorrow and triumph in her own expression. Because her father wasn't the only one healed of a broken heart that week.

They all were.

TWENTY-EIGHT.

For all they'd lost and all they'd found, in the end they came full circle.

Shane couldn't get past that fact, not through Bill Anderson's touching funeral or in the days that followed. Now it was Saturday, and as he stood near the ticket counter at Chicago O'Hare, Emily and Lauren at his side, Lauren's mother and his parents next to them, the sad truth was glaring. They were right back where they'd left off nearly nineteen years ago - standing on the brink of good-bye.

Shane's parents' plane would be the first one out. Lauren's was next, and his was a few hours later. They walked as far as they could toward the security line, and then his mother turned to Angela. The two hugged and held on for a long while. When they pulled apart, his mother said, "Think about it, will you, Angela? I can't believe God would give us another chance to be neighbors."

"Definitely." Lauren's mother had dark circles under her swollen eyes, and she looked gaunt from the grief. But for all of that, her expression held a supernatural peace. "We'll have to get things in order and sell the house." She looked at Emily, and the two shared a sad smile. "We're ready to move. Emily wants to finish college on the West Coast, anyway. We don't have anything keeping us in Illinois now."

Emily looked at Lauren, and Shane's heart broke for her. His daughter looked like a lost little girl, caught up in more emotions and changes than anyone should have to go through in a week's time. Emily gave Lauren a sad smile. "You can put in a good word for me at USC, right?"

"Of course." So far Lauren had made no promises to any of them, other than the obvious: she would keep in regular contact with Emily. Now she looked weary, buried beneath the weight of the good-byes that lay ahead. She put her arm around Emily and pulled her close. "They'll be lucky to have you."

Shane stood on Emily's other side, and he smiled at her. "Once you move out west, we'll see each other all the time. LA is a day's drive from Reno, and only an hour in the air." He stroked the back of her head, her silky dark hair. Losing Bill had been terribly hard on her. Shane could feel how much she needed her dad now that the most important man in her life was gone.

His parents added their approval. "We've missed so many years with you." His dad held out his arms, and Emily went to him. "All we can do now is catch up."

"Yep." Emily put her arms around Shane's mother too, and a sad sort of quiet fell over them. His dad looked at his watch. "We better get going."

Shane stepped up and gave them each a hug. Though the mistakes his parents made hadn't severed his relationship with them, as it had Lauren and her parents, there still was a sense of loss there, beneath the surface. It was something they never talked about. But that was going to change. Shane knew it. He could feel a new depth to their relationship. One more bit of proof that healing had, indeed, come to all of them. He stepped back beside Emily and held up his hand. "See you next week sometime."

Another round of good-byes was spoken and the four of them watched his parents head through a door and file into the security line. When they were out of sight, an ache settled in Shane's gut. The hardest part lay just ahead.

Emily was still clinging to Lauren, but she was looking down, as if she couldn't face the moment just yet. Lauren held out her hand to her mother. Angela didn't hesitate. She came and the three generations of Anderson women formed a tight knot of tears. Shane wanted to join them, but they needed this time - just the three of them, a picture of what a mother-daughter bond should be. He could hear their voices, and he let their words soak into his soul.

"Do you forgive me?" Angela rested her head on Lauren's. "I'm so sorry, honey. You'll never know - "

"Of course I forgive you, but it was me too." Lauren's voice was raspy. Her shoulders trembled as she spoke. "I only wish I'd come home sooner."

"I'll always see us the way we were in the family room that night." Emily smiled through her tears. "Papa sitting there with his big smile, and all of us together for the first time." She made a sound that was mostly laugh. "I have parents and grandparents, and a legacy of love someone should write a book about! I even have my special papa in heaven waiting for me. What could be better than that?"

Only one thing, of course, but Emily seemed determined not to bring that up. Last night she had found Shane and Lauren seated on the living room sofa, talking. She plopped down between them and announced, "I think you two should get married."

"Is that right?" Lauren looked surprised, but she kept her deeper feelings to herself.

"Yeah, I mean - " she looked at him - "you already asked her."

Shane's eyes widened. "I did?"

Emily poked him with her elbow. "Eighteen years ago, silly."

"Oh." Shane gave Lauren a quick grin. "She has a point."

Emily's eyes found Lauren next. "And you already said yes."

Shane had barely restrained a grin as he held up his finger. "Another point."

But Lauren only gave them both a wistful look. "If only it were that easy."

Emily hadn't pushed the issue, but before she turned in for bed she pulled Shane aside. "I'll never stop praying about it."

He winked at her. "Me neither."

So it was no wonder Emily was being quiet on the matter here, in the midst of good-byes. She'd done what she could. Now it was up to Lauren and God. Most of all, God.

The group hug among the three women ended, and they pulled apart. Lauren looked over her shoulder at him and held out her hand. Shane took it, savoring the feel of her skin against his.

Angela was asking, "Will you stay in Afghanistan?"

"For now." Lauren's answer was quick, but it cut Shane deep. He tried to catch Lauren's eye, but she kept from looking at either him or Emily. "I love what I do there." She finally looked at Emily, her expression tender. "I can come back often."

Shane wanted to shout, "What about me? What about us?" But that would wait until they were alone. Instead he took a deep breath and looked at the faces around him. "I need to get going."

"Me too." Lauren picked up her bag and swung it over her shoulder.

"All right, then," Angela held out her arms and hugged first Shane, then Lauren. She let herself linger with her daughter. "Be careful, Lauren. Please."

"I will." Lauren rubbed her left shoulder, the one that was still healing. "Especially now."

It was Shane's turn. He hugged Lauren's mother, and then Emily. For a moment, he kept his hand along the side of his daughter's face. He looked down into those dark eyes, marveling.

"I'm so proud of the young woman you are." Time would never come between them again, not the way it had before. The moment he'd seen her, held her in his arms, she'd become part of him. So much so that it was tearing at his composure to leave her. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you were growing up."

She covered his hand with hers and clung tight. "You didn't know."

"But I do now." He kissed her cheek and let his hand slip to her shoulder. "We've got a lot of good times ahead, sweetheart."

"Yep." She hugged him again and their eyes held as he stepped back. She looked at Lauren next. "Mom . . . "

They came together in a last embrace that made Shane's throat thick. There would be phone calls and e-mail and visits, God willing. But with Lauren in the Middle East, any good-bye could be their last.

He watched the two of them, knowing they were too torn up to say anything more. Finally Angela put her arm around Emily, and the two of them waved. Then they turned and headed for the exit. Shane and Lauren watched them until they were gone. Then, without saying a word, Lauren fell into his arms.

"I didn't want the week to end." She mumbled the words against his chest.

"It doesn't have to." He kissed the top of her head.

She said nothing, and after a few seconds he picked up his bag and the two of them walked through the door and got into the security line. They held hands as they walked to her gate. Lauren's plane was already boarding.

He faced her and lifted her chin with his fingers. "Did you hear what I said earlier? What I've been saying all week?"

Her eyes held a sort of torment he hadn't seen before, as if the battle inside her was far more frightening than the one she was going back to write about. She took a step closer, so their legs were touching. "Yes." The word sounded strained. "Yes. I heard."

"So then . . . " He kept his tone easy, his words slow. Even if it killed him to tell her good-bye after finding her again, there would be no last-minute sales pitch to convince her to stay with him. His heart hurt and he wanted to weep, but now wasn't the time. Instead, he dug deep down and found a trace of humor. "Does this mean you're breaking our engagement?"

A single laugh burst from her throat, and she let her forehead fall against his chest. "Shane." She lifted her eyes to his again. "Be serious."

He hesitated. "Why, Lauren?" He felt the smile fade from his face. With his eyes holding hers, he traced her jaw, her neck. "Would that convince you to stay with me?"

She brought her hands up along the sides of his face, and with fresh tears brimming in her eyes, she kissed him. It was a kiss filled with finality, and when she drew back she was breathless, her emotions giving way. "I'll think about it, Shane." She shook her head. "I just don't see how it can work."

He understood. As he searched her eyes, he prayed the way he'd been praying since their first conversation that week. Please God . . . show us how to make this come together. And in that instant he realized something. It wasn't only their politics that were different. It was their faith. Without that in common, Lauren might be right. God we need You . . . she needs You.

"What are you thinking?" Her voice was low, her eyes locked on his.

He worked his fingers through her hair and kissed her once more. "I'm trying not to."

"Attention passengers - " a tinny voice came over the loud speaker system - "this is the final boarding call for Flight 92 to Los Angeles. All ticketed passengers please proceed directly to Gate C20 for immediate boarding."

He took a step back and pain cut through him, as though his heart were being ripped in half. He caught his breath, forced himself to smile, to speak. "You better go."

She nodded, too choked up to talk. She mouthed the words, "Bye, Shane." And then, with a last look at him, she turned and headed for the Jetway.

There were no desperate statements, no promises that she'd call or write or stay in touch. She just turned . . . and was gone. Swallowing hard, he stared at the terminal around him without seeing anything. Hoards of people pushed past, but he barely noticed. He just stood there, unable to take a step away from the gate, to be the one to put more space between them.

Finally, his feet took over. He drifted toward the window and watched the plane back away, shift gears, and begin positioning on the runway. He could still see her face, her blonde hair and blue eyes. Could she see him too? Did she feel what he felt? That even though she was leaving, their hearts were still connected? Would always be connected?

Father God . . . help.

Things had worked out for everyone that week. Emily had her parents, and Bill had a place in heaven. His parents and Lauren's had found friendship and healing, and none of them would ever be the same again because of it. Yes, things had worked out for everyone.

Everyone except Lauren and him.

He kept his eyes on the aircraft, watching the same window, the one where he was sure he could see her, no matter now far away the plane was. Finally the craft circled into place, and after a brief pause, barreled down the runway, lifting up through a hole in the sky.

Taking Lauren with it.

Only then, did Shane drop to the nearest chair, cover his face with his hands and let the tears come.

TWENTY-NINE.