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  To Donald:

  Well . . . we are starting our third school year as empty-nesters. I never liked that term. And I can tell you now with all my heart that there’s been nothing empty about the last few years. They’ve been full of beautiful walks and meaningful talks, nights when we randomly jump into the car and spend an evening with Kelsey and Kyle, and our grandbabies Hudson and Nolan. We play tennis and Ping-Pong and hang out with our wonderful friends. And yes, we miss having our family all together every day. But when they all come home the celebrating never ends. What I mean is, I’ve loved raising our kids with you, and now I love this season, too. God has brought us through so many pages in our story. The Baxter family came to life while our children were growing up. When the Baxters told stories around the family dinner table, we were doing the same. And when their kids auditioned for Christian theater, our kids were singing the same songs. Our family is—and always will be—inexorably linked with the Baxters. So thank you for creating a world where our love and life and family and faith were so beautiful I could do nothing but write about it. So that come some far-off day when we’re old and the voices of our many grandchildren fill the house, we can pull out books like this one and remember. Every single beautiful moment. I love you.

  To Kyle:

  You will always be the young man we prayed for, the one we believed God for when it came to our precious only daughter. You love Kelsey so well, and you are such a great daddy to Hudson and Nolan. I literally thank God every day for you and for the friendship we all share. Thank you for bringing us constant joy. We pray and believe that all the world will one day be changed for the better because of your music, your love and your life.

  To Kelsey:

  What an amazing season this has been, watching you be the best mommy ever for Hudson and Nolan. Your little boys are happy and healthy and strong, and most of all they love Jesus. I love when Dad and I hang out at your house. It is so full of love and joy, peace and patience and God’s Holy Spirit. Because you and Kyle have intentionally welcomed the Lord into your home. What a beautiful time for all of us! Hudson is deep and kind and joyful, with a heart that hints at the powerful ways God will use him in the years to come. And Nolan is a little sponge, learning everything he can from Hudson and you and Kyle. He’s such a joy to be around! I believe God will continue to use your precious family as a very bright light, and that one day all the world will look to you and Kyle as an example of how to love well. Love you with all my heart, honey.

  To Tyler:

  I remember that long-ago day when you were a ten-year-old and you said, “Mom, someday I’m going to write music and make movies. But I think I’m also going to write books in my spare time. Like you do!” And now, that’s exactly what you’re doing. How amazing is it that we have the privilege of writing together? Already we’ve had one screenplay—Maggie’s Christmas Miracle—show up on the Hallmark Channel, and now a series of books about the Baxter children! I never could’ve imagined the ways God would work all this together. You’re still songwriting, still writing original screenplays and dreaming up movies. But now you’re writing books in your spare time, too. I love it! God has great things ahead, Son, and as always I am most thankful for this front-row seat. Oh, and for the occasional evening when you stop by for dinner and finish the night at the piano. You are a very great blessing, Ty. Love you always.

  To Sean:

  I will always believe that God has great plans for you. Like your dad and me, you are using your mid-twenties to find your way, to figure out your journey of faith and the future ahead. And to become the kind of person you want to be—in faith, in work, and in your relationships. You are a beloved son, Sean. I can’t wait to celebrate all that your life will be in the years to come. Stay in His word. I love you always and forever.

  To Josh:

  Way back when you were little, we always knew you’d grow up to be a hard worker, and you absolutely are! As our much-loved son, always remember that having a relationship with Jesus is the most important gift you will ever give your family. In the years to come, as you walk out your faith together, just know how much we love you. We always have. We believe in you. We are here for you always!

  To EJ:

  What a tremendous time this is for you, EJ. You are doing so well at Liberty University, so excited about a career in filmmaking. Just one more semester and you’ll have your degree! We are so very proud of you, Son. Isn’t it something how God knew—even all those years ago when you first entered our family—that you would need to be with people who loved God and loved each other. But also people who loved the power of storytelling. I’m so excited about the future, and the ways God will use your gifts, and the gifts of your siblings, to make movies that will impact the world for the good. Maybe we should start our own studio—making movies that will give people hope. Whatever the future holds, remember that your most powerful hour of the day is the one you give to Jesus. Stay in His word. Pray always. I love you.

  To Austin:

  I’m so grateful I can see you when I travel to Liberty University to teach. You are tall and strong and a godly presence on that campus, Son. But not only that. You are a loyal friend with a very deep heart. During breaks we will continue to have many happy times together as you still have three semesters left! But even now, more than halfway through your college education, I still miss you in the everydayness, Austin. You have been such a light in our home, our miracle boy. Our overcomer. You are my youngest, and no question the hardest to let go. At times the quiet here is so . . . quiet. Even with your dad’s jokes and your two little nephews in our lives. So, while you’re at Liberty, on nights when you lie awake in your dorm, just know that we have cherished every moment of raising you. And we are still here. We always will be. Love you forever, Aus.

  And to God Almighty, the Author of Life,

  who has—for now—blessed me with these.

  THIS BOOK IS part of the Baxter family collection, but it can be read as a stand-alone novel. Find out more about the Baxter family at the back of this book. Whether you’ve loved the Baxters for a decade, or you’re finding them for the first time—When We Were
Young is for you.

  1

  Noah Carter’s paramedic uniform felt like it was made of lead. His black work boots, too. Like gravity had doubled down on him. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe his heart was trying to kill him.

  He deserved it.

  The rolling green grass of Bloomington’s Rose Hill Cemetery came into view. Already Noah could feel the serenity of the place. He parked his old gray pickup in the back lot and cut the engine. It was the second day of November.

  The last day of his marriage.

  Clouds gathered in the distance. Big storms forecast for Indiana. No surprise. There wasn’t a single sunny thing about this chilly afternoon. How could it have come to this? What had gotten so bad that he would walk away from Emily Andrews?

  He loved her. He still loved her.

  Just not when they were together.

  Noah pressed his back muscles into the worn cloth seat and stared out over a sea of tombstones. This was where he needed to be. Perspective ruled supreme in a cemetery.

  Especially this one.

  His heart had led him here, to this place of death and defeat. The reason was obvious. For a long time now he could feel his heart turning on him. In the last two years, though it kept him alive, it had become a separate being, pulling away from the rest of his body. So that with every beat he could feel the struggle, the fight. His heart digging its claws into him and dragging him down, pressing against him. Spreading destruction and discouragement like arsenic through his veins.

  If his heart was going to kill him, the job was almost done. He was moving across town tomorrow.

  Noah climbed out of his truck and zipped up his blue paramedic jacket. Breathe, Noah. Just breathe. His shift at the firehouse had been longer today, and on the way out he’d run into the new fire chief, Landon Blake.

  Last day of his marriage. He runs into Landon Blake, of all people.

  The guy was the poster child for a perfect marriage. He had a slew of kids, including a niece they were raising. But every time Noah saw Landon and his family at a picnic or party, the man looked head over heels in love with his wife.

  The chief was a Christian, Noah knew that much. Bible verses hung on the walls of his office. His faith showed in his actions. The man was intentional about his staff, always asking the guys about their home life.

  This afternoon was no different.

  “You doing well?” Landon had asked him. “Everything okay with the family?”

  Why the chief would ask that today, Noah would never know. Unless God, Himself, put the question in the man’s mind. Whatever the reason, Noah wasn’t about to open up there at the station. What could he say? Everyone’s favorite Internet couple was calling it quits?

  Noah hadn’t breathed a word about the pending split. He certainly wasn’t going to talk about it with Landon Blake. “All’s well, Chief.” Noah hadn’t even slowed his pace. Just waved at the man and walked right on past.

  Conviction tightened its hold on Noah.

  Never mind, he told himself. What’s done is done. Everyone would know soon enough. Emily didn’t look up to him. Didn’t respect him or believe in him. She was jealous of the fans Noah talked to online, and she no longer felt loved. End of story.

  He glanced at the swirling clouds over the cemetery. The news would surprise everyone, of course. It would make headlines. Most of their followers would be devastated by the breakup. Especially people who found a reason to stay married because of what they saw in Noah and Emily.

  But the person it would’ve hurt most of all would never know.

  Sweet Clara.

  A cold wind blew across the rows of tombstones and washed over Noah. He turned up the collar on his jacket and pushed into it. He didn’t come here much anymore, but today a visit seemed only right. Because Noah wasn’t just leaving Emily and their two kids. He was leaving Clara, too.

  Even if she wasn’t alive to know it.

  Three inches of rain had fallen in the last few days, so the ground was soft as Noah moved into the plotted field. Four rows in, six gravestones over and there it was. Noah stooped down and brushed off the marker.

  Clara Andrews. 1990–2016

  Tears stung at the corners of his eyes. Dear Clara. He leaned back on his heels and stared at her name. You’re whole now. Your body is perfect, the way your spirit always was. Noah breathed deep and turned his gaze to the sky again. “You take good care of her, God.” His whisper blended with another gust of wind. “No one ever loved You more.”

  Clara had been Emily’s younger sister. Just as beautiful, but born with cerebral palsy. She walked with braces and crutches and struggled to speak a clear sentence. But she was golden through and through. Everyone loved Clara, but Emily most of all. Their father left home when Emily was ten, and eight years later their mom died when her car got trapped in a flash flood.

  After that, Emily raised her sister. Clara was always happy, always well loved because Emily took care of her with a fierce sort of protection. As if her own life depended on it.

  It was why Noah had fallen in love with Emily in the first place, there in the cafeteria at Indiana University.

  Those were big-time football days for Noah, back when he was a star quarterback for the Hoosiers. His world revolved around his teammates, his NFL dreams and his personal successes. He might never have noticed Emily if it weren’t for Clara.

  Noah turned his attention back to the tombstone. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go, Clara, girl.” He sighed. Gravity pulled hard at him again. “You tried to warn me.”

  She did. A year before the seizure that took her life, Clara had come to him with her iPad. In her own endearing way, she had struggled to ask her question. Just a couple words. “Too . . . much?”

  Clara lived with them. She had from the time Noah and Emily married. And that day her words were not a complaint or a criticism. They were simply a question formed from the innocence of her soul.

  On the iPad was Noah’s Instagram account. @When_We_Were_Young. The account that had blown up when the two of them got engaged. The one that allowed them to buy their house. The one that paid the bills.

  Clara had held up the device and looked from the smattering of stunning photos to Noah. Then she’d said the clearest sentence Noah had ever heard her say. Standing a little taller, leaning on her crutches, she spoke straight to him. “Noah . . . Emily . . . needs you.”

  The implication was clear. Clara believed that her sister didn’t need one more perfect social media post or another thousand people following them, obsessed with their life. Emily needed Noah. At the time he only smiled at Clara and nodded. “Of course she needs me.” He didn’t blink. “We all need each other!”

  Noah felt then the way he still felt today. He had never set out to become Internet famous. None of them had. But from the day he asked Emily to marry him, the world had been drawn to them. A million people on Instagram alone looked forward to every update. What they were doing that day, what they might say to each other, the way they parented their kids, the flowers that lined the walkway to their front door.

  Every single detail about their life and love.

  From the beginning Noah had been in charge of posting. It was his Facebook page people followed, his Twitter account, his Instagram. He was responsible for keeping the posts inspirational. Engaging. Beautiful.

  How many people had Noah and Emily’s story helped along the way? How many followers had found their way back to faith and family? Their social media presence was important. The world needed people like them.

  Noah gritted his teeth. Emily used to feel the same, thankful for a platform to share Bible verses or encouragement. But sometime after Clara died, Emily changed. Posting about their lives no longer felt fun and meaningful. She didn’t care how many likes or retweets they got, or whether their numbers were growing.

  As if their story was no longer worth sharing.

  Noah took a heavy breath and stood, his eyes still on Clara’s grave
. Never mind that their social media accounts netted them six figures a year. Or that Noah could work far fewer hours at the fire station on a good month of Internet income.

  They were making a difference. Which was why Noah wouldn’t give it up. Their story was touching hearts and changing lives. Wasn’t that the point? Wasn’t it worth the effort? Noah still thought so.

  Even now.

  Not Emily, though. She thought their whole platform had become one big farce. Nothing but smoke and mirrors. That the faces they wore for the public were not the faces they wore around the dining room table.

  Or in the bedroom.

  Ever since Emily’s change of mind, tension grew like weeds where love had once flourished. And there was nothing either of them could do to change the fact. The more Noah tried to convince Emily to smile for the camera, the more closed off she became. She accused him of being more concerned with their mostly female followers than with the life the two of them were really living.

  He could still hear her frustrated criticism as far back as two years ago. “We used to post about our happy life. Now we’re forcing life for the happy posts.”

  The temperature was dropping. Noah exhaled. “I don’t know, Clara.” His words came in a broken whisper. “Maybe I should’ve listened to you.” He still wasn’t sure. What was wrong with sharing their love with the world? And how come Emily was jealous of the fans? Of course he needed to respond to their followers.

  Noah could still think of a hundred reasons why their social media presence was a good thing. Emily couldn’t think of one.

  “But that’s just a part of why we’re splitting.” He moved his toe along the edge of Clara’s gravestone. “It’s so much worse than that, Clara.”

  For months now their differences about posting on social media had paled in comparison to something else. These days, Emily no longer thought Noah was real.