The Sweet By and By
Advance Acclaim for
The Sweet By and By
“A heartwarming collaborative debut.”
â PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
“Enter the magic of Whisper Hollow and open your heart. Like Sara Evan's bittersweet songs, the notes and melody of Jade Fitzgerald's past sing a new future. In a world of wounded souls, forgiveness and redemption are the lyrics of this enchanting story.”
â PATTI CALLAHAN HENRY
New York Times
best-selling
author of
Driftwood Summer
“
The Sweet By and By
is the flowing story of a family struggling across the generations for redemption and reconciliation. The women in this novel are sometimes funny, sometimes serious, but always interesting. I was hooked from page one.”
â HOMER HICKAM
best-selling author of
Rocket Boys
and
Red Helmet
“. . . witty dialogue, believable characters and a page-turner of a plot. Just what I look for in a good book!”
â CASSANDRA KING
author of
The Same Sweet Girls
“Conveys a meaningful message about forgiveness.”
â CBA RETAILERS +
RESOURCES
“Beautifully real characters shine in this even more beautiful story. A wonderful first novel.”
â EVA LONGORIA PARKER
actress and model
“Wow! I am completely inspired by this book. I have always admired Sara's ability to tell stories through her music, and now I can say wholeheartedly that she is able to make a great story sing on the pages of this book. This is a beautiful, breathtaking novel full of redemption, reconciliation, and grace. I fully recommend it!”
â ROBIN MCGRAW,
#1 New York Times bestselling
author
The
SWEET
By and By
Sara Evans
with Rachel Hauck
THE SWEET BY AND BY
© 2009 by Sara Evans
All rights reserved. No portion of this book maybe reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or any otherâexcept for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson Inc.
Thomas Nelson, Inc. titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, e-mail [email protected].
Scripture quotations are taken from the following:
THE NEW KING JAMES VERSION. © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
The KING JAMES VERSION of the Bible. Public domain.
Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
978-1-4185-8392-7 (e-book)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Evans, Sara, 1971â
    The sweet by and by / Sara Evans with Rachel Hauck.
      p. cm.
    ISBN 978-1-59554-489-6 (hardcover)
    I. Hauck, Rachel, 1960- II. Title.
  PS3605.V3765S94 2009
  813'.6âdc22
2009022210
Printed in the United States of America
09 10 11 12 13 WC 5 4 3 2 1
To Olivia, Audrey, and Sarah Ashlee
“And our spirits shall sorrow no more.”
â“THE SWEET BY AND BY,”
lyrics by S. Fillmore Bennett, 1868
Contents
Summer '77
The stage lights were down, but then an electric guitar buzzed from the darkened stage, igniting the crowd gathered in the Iowa State Fair grandstand.
Chills multiplied down Beryl's legs as she glanced over her shoulder to a sea of cigarette lighters raised toward the twilight sky.
She leaned against Harlan as he swayed back and forth with his arm around her hips. For the first time since Woodstock, she was at a concert with no intention of getting high-as-a-kite, or leaving with the last man she'd kissed.
Her senses felt heightened by love, in tune with the frenetic energy around her and the music to come.
Rumor had it that this was the largest concert gathering in fair history. Fans stood shoulder-to-shoulder, cushioned by the heat-infused air.
Whistles pierced the night, followed by cheers and shouts:
Stevie, Lindsey, . . . Mick.
Another guitar lick reverberated in the air with a shrill that hit Beryl in her chest. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled from the deepest part of her belly. She wanted to be heard.
Harlan's call for the music bellowed after hers, then his warm kiss blessed her ear, then her cheek.
When a drunken fan stumbled against her, sloshing beer against her sweat-dampened shirt, Harlan grabbed the man by the collar.
“Watch what you're doing.”
The drunk moved on without a word.
“You all right?” Harlan asked Beryl.
“I'm perfect.”
Until Harlan Fitzgerald, Beryl had been a wanderer, a traveler, a liberated woman with no visions of picket fences, rocking babies, and happily ever after.
Then he came along, a ponytail-lawyer from Des Moines. He rescued her from legal troubleâarrested at a sit-inâand stole her heart.
“Ladies and Gentlemenâ” The announcer's mike screeched, settling the crowd down to a hovering din. “Fleetwood Mac.”
Beryl's cheer erupted with the rest as she applauded with her arms in the air. Harlan's chest swelled as he drew a long breath and let go a deep, resonating holler.
The lights came up with the opening bars of “You Can Go Your Own Way.” The grandstand seemed to move with a life of its ownâthe crowd swaying and clapping. Beryl moved in time with Harlan and the music.
If I could, baby I'd give you my world . . .
Beryl stretched to see over the fans in front of her.
“Jump up,” Harlan said, then caught her midmotion and hoisted her to his shoulders.
Lifting her arms, Beryl let them sway freely with Harlan's motion. When the song ended, she bent forward to kiss his forehead. He was one of the truly good ones.
Harlan pressed something into her hand.
“What's this?” Beryl lifted the lid of a small black box. “Harlanâ”
He helped her slide down from his shoulders. “It's an engagement ring, to seal our deal. Since you're not a traditionalist, I figured a
diamond
wouldn't be your thingâ”
Even in the dim light, she could see the blue spark in his eyes. He looked cute and shy as he tried to explain himself.
“An engagement ring, huh?” She grabbed his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Very cool.”
“It's a jade stone. The green matches the flecks in your eyes.” He brushed her flyaway hair from her face, then took the ring and slipped it onto her finger. “Will you marry me, Beryl Walker?”
She didn't have to wait a week to give her answer this time like she did a month ago when Harlan took her by surprise and proposed under the moonlight, his voice textured with emotion. “Yes, Harlan Fitzgerald, I'll marry you.”
Whisper Hollow, TN
The October sun warmed the Blue Umbrella's office. A pool of light washed
over Jade's paint-chipped desk and the box of ruby-red invitations shoved
against the windowsill.
“Here you go, Liz. Eighty-five dollars for your aunt's antique bread box.” Jade pushed the box out of the way so she could grab the check she'd printed for her customer, exposing a solitary, displaced red invitation.
BERYL HILL, PRAIRIE CITY, IOWA.
“Bless your heart, old Aunt Ginny, for never making friends with the garbage can.” Liz Carlton blew a kiss at the check before folding it into her purse. “Jade, I've got plenty more items to consign with you.”
“I'm always interested.” She patted the small, spry woman on the shoulder.
“And don't forget you can sell some of your valuables on eBay.”
“On eBay? Goodness, child, I'd have no idea how toâ”
“And there's the county dump.” Jade walked her across the bright, polished shop to the front door.
“The county dump? I do believe you don't sound a bit grateful, Jade Fitzgerald.
I bring in my precious family treasures for you to sell, sharing the profits with you, and what thanks do I get? A recommendation to the county dump.”
“Liz, I appreciate your business. You know I do. But the Blue Umbrella is looking for timeless pieces, items with a story and a history. Last week you brought in a bag of peeling costume jewelry and some moth-eaten sweaters.”
“Those sweaters had a story, Jade. I told you my great-great-granny knitted them by a coal fire.”
Jade gently slipped her arm through Liz's. After all, she was a valued client, despite her lack of vintage prowess. “I'm looking for quality, not quantity, Liz.
But I do admit”âJade paused at the doorâ“your items always come with interesting stories.”
Liz opened the door. “You wait and see what I dig up next.”
“I'm holding my breath,” Jade said with a grin.
Back in her office, Jade dropped to her desk chair, sighing. Liz was entertaining if nothing else.
She surveyed the row of lime-green sticky notes running along the top of her desk. Her to-do list. Her eyes fell on one sticky note, the one with the curled edges where her arm grazed over it:
Mail invitations
.
Jade snatched up the note. The gummy adhesive was dotted with dust and lint and no longer adhered to the desk's surface. The lump she felt in her chest every time she moved the note had grown from a pebble to a rock. How much longer could she stall? The wedding was five weeks away.
“Hey, boss, what's up for today?”
Jade glanced up at Lillabeth, her sole and treasured part-time assistant. “You're early today.”
“Coach rescheduled the team meeting for Friday.” The seventeen-year-old folded herself into the rickety metal chair beside the desk. Her blonde ponytail swished over her shoulder, and a pair of tiger-striped Oakley shades rode atop her head.
“It's slow-day Monday. Why don't you work on the Baker estate inventory?”
“Shouldn't you have mailed these already?” Lillabeth slipped a wedding invitation from the box.
“You sound like my future mother-in-law.” Jade took the envelope and jammed it back with the others.
“What about that one?” Lillabeth pointed to the banished invite.
“This one is special. Sort of.” Jade tucked it a little farther under the box. “Tell me, what do you think when you hear the word
invitation
?”
“âYou're invited,' I guess.” Lillabeth shrugged, making a face. “âCome to the party. We want to see you.'”
“Come and participate? Your presence is requested?” Jade had been thinking about this for a while.
