We Go On: Then Comes Hope Collection, #1

By Regina Walker

★★★★★ "Walker lays out the drama, stress, and emotional pain of the characters in a believable way but leaves the door open for hope and a way to go on." Jenny Knipfer, Author of the By the Light of the Moon Series

 

Josh and Liz must learn to continue living after their son, Colby, commits suicide. He left them too soon, but he left an unexpected gift behind. Dusty, the pretty mare he was keeping secret, could be a powerful tool in his family's healing, or she could be the last thing his mom can handle.

As they wrestle with the holes in their hearts, they find themselves at odds with one another and with their faith. Tyler, their surviving son, wades through the depths of his grief and pain while watching his parents' marriage come undone.

This is a deeply moving story about pain, loss, and faith. Sometimes the three collide in a way we never saw coming, in a way we never wanted to experience. Join the Millers as they find hope again, one moment at a time.

 

⚠ Warning: This book deals with loss by suicide and the grief a family endures. ⚠

 

This is book one in the Then Comes Hope Collection.

① We Go On

② Still With Us

③ We Grow Together

These books can be read and enjoyed separately, and each features its own conclusion. There is a small cliffhanger at the end of We Go On. This cliffhanger is resolved in book two, Still With Us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Regina Walker
• Release date: Jun 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781386814153

Regina Walker

Regina Walker crafts compelling characters facing some of life's hardest challenges. Her heart's desire is to always point toward Jesus through the way her characters face challenges, relationships, and adversity. Regina is an Oklahoma import, although she was born and raised in the beautiful state of Colorado. She likes to curl up on the couch and binge-watch crime shows with her hard-working husband. When she's not wrestling with a writing project, she can be found wrangling their children, riding their horses, or working around their small hobby farm.

Book preview

We Go On

Regina Walker

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Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Still With Us

About the Author

Check out the latest about Regina Walker at http://reginawalkerauthor.com

We Go On

Copyright 2020 © by Regina Walker. All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

We Go On 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.

Cover by Angela Christina Archer.

Proofread by Aimee Woodland.

Published in the United States of America by:

Regina Walker

PO Box 492

Jones, Oklahoma 73049

For Mom

Your bravery and determination inspire me.

I love you.

If you, or anyone you know, are struggling with thoughts of suicide or self-harm, please call.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

You matter.

One

I need his shirt. Liz swiveled on her feet to look around the emergency room. She pointed at a stainless-steel cart. It was right there. A blue t-shirt. I need it. I have to have that shirt.

To someone who didn’t know her, she simply sounded adamant. Her husband knew better. Josh could see the slight tremble in her hands, the shorter way she was taking in breath after breath, and he could hear the change in her tone. She was falling apart with each passing moment and he was powerless to stop it. He reached out his hand to touch her shoulder, but she was on the move and his fingers barely missed her.

I’m sorry ma’am. I haven’t seen it. I’ll help you look for it when I finish my notes.

I really need that shirt, Liz’s voice cracked. She strode over to the trash can next to the cart and peered inside. As she bent over with her hand outstretched, Josh caught her around the waist and pulled her back.

You can’t dig through a hospital trash can, Liz.

I need that shirt. She turned into him, a balled-up fist landing against his chest as he pulled her in close to him.

I know. We’ll find it, he whispered against her head. Just slow down.

Josh, I have to have that shirt, Liz repeated. She leaned heavily against him for a moment then pulled out of his arms.

Ma’am? The nurse laid her hand on Liz’s shoulder. I found it. It had just been moved. The crumpled, heather blue, cotton fabric lay wadded up in the nurse’s gloved hand.

Liz plucked the shirt away from the kind woman and rubbed the tattered fabric between her fingers before she dared to lift it up. When she did, the cruel world grew darker around her as the shirt hung limp in the air, cut straight up the chest. It was beyond repair.

Liz, why don’t we leave it here? We don’t want to look at that shirt ever again.

You don’t. You don’t want to look at this shirt ever again. Her voice was low.

You don’t either babe. It’s just a bad memory.

The worst, she admitted, but it may be the last thing I have of him. The very last thing he ever wore. I have to have it, at least until we know. She drew the shirt close to her and held it tight to her chest.

Don’t talk like that, Liz. He’s going to pull through this.

You don’t know that.

Another nurse came into the room and spoke in hushed tones with Colby’s nurse.

Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller, I’m here to take Colby to the ICU. I’m Roxy. I’ll only be with you for transport, but I’ll introduce you to the nurses upstairs.

Liz stared at the nurse, blinking several times. Roxy’s words rattled around in Liz’s brain. She started to nod and then shrugged, still clutching the shirt.

Josh put his arm protectively around his wife. We’ll follow you.

When we get upstairs, you’ll have to stay in the waiting room while the ICU nurses get his ventilator hooked up and make sure all of his meds are correct. It’s standard procedure.

Liz shifted her gaze to the hospital bed where Colby was lying, the tube in his mouth went into his chest, delivering oxygen that his body couldn’t get for itself at that moment.

Will he…will he start breathing on his own again soon? Liz pulled away from Josh and walked toward the hospital bed.

We can’t say for certain; we don’t know the extent of his injuries yet. The doctor will be by tonight to discuss the CT scan your son had when he arrived, Roxy told Liz.

Is he uncomfortable in this thing? Liz lightly trailed her finger over the collar holding his neck still.

It’s probably not the most comfortable, but he’s heavily sedated. If he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t really know it.

She reached her hand out and laid it on Colby’s chest, her fingers sprawled between a mess of wires and tubes. The rise and fall of each mechanical breath provided her a small measure of hope and comfort. She studied each of her son’s features. His strong jawline, tan skin, and his dark, trimmed hair. His eyes were closed but she could remember their bright, blue hue just the same. His nose was a little flat on the end. With her free hand she reached up and brushed the tip of it gently as her mind drifted to a time not so long ago, when he was just a little boy.

Mom! You made my nose flat! Colby burst into her bedroom.

What on earth are you talking about? She laughed.

This flat spot. He pointed. You did this to me when I was little! Come see!

He stormed out of the room, beckoning her to follow. On the family computer, Josh was playing old videos from when the boys were smaller. Several of the clips they watched were from when Colby was just starting to walk. When the small boy would tumble, she would scoop him up, push his nose, and set him on his feet to try again.

You pushed my nose so many times you made it flat! he accused.

I pushed it just enough to give it character. It suits you, she said.

I hate it! He stomped away, swinging his arms in an animated fashion.

I didn’t really make his nose flat, did I? Liz asked Josh, sitting on the chair beside him.

I doubt it. He’ll get over it.

But what if he doesn’t?

Then some girl will come along and kiss him on the end of that flat nose and tell him it’s her favorite thing. Then he will be over it and he may even come and thank you for making his nose flat.

I hope you’re right.

Josh stepped up behind Liz and placed his hand on the small of her back. We need to let them move him upstairs.

He then laid his hand over hers on Colby’s chest. Tears streamed down her face and she bent over and kissed Colby’s forehead.

I love you, forever, she whispered.

Liz kissed Colby’s forehead one more time before stepping back and nodding at the nurses.

The two ladies worked together, attaching the ventilator to the hospital bed, and securing all the young man’s tubes and wires for transport. Liz shivered in Josh’s arms as they wheeled Colby out of the trauma room and down the hall. The couple followed close behind. Josh’s arm wrapped around Liz to keep her steady. She held the tattered blue shirt to her chest, following where Josh guided her.

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There are no answers to be had while sitting in a stiff, green chair, waiting in a room meant just for the purpose of waiting. Time ticks by in a heartless manner, callous to the ache inside a mother’s chest, immune to the pacing of a distraught father.

I think I’m going to grab another cup of coffee, Josh said.

That will be what, your fourth cup?

I don’t know. I’m not counting.

Okay.

Liz pulled out her phone. Several texts were waiting for her to read. Pastor Garon, from their church, wanted to come up immediately and pray with her and Josh. She sent a message letting him know what floor they were on and that currently they were in the waiting room. Her best friend and sister-in-law, Stephanie, said she was getting Tyler settled in for the night after a good dinner of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

Don’t worry about anything here. Tyler and I will have a blast and you can just worry about Colby, one of the messages from Stephanie read. Liz replied with a simple Thank you.

She had a message from her mom that said she was sorry this happened. Josh’s mom also messaged and said she was thinking of them. Her brother Aaron messaged and asked her to send an update when she knew something more.

How does everyone know already? Liz asked as Josh barely crossed through the doorway. Steam rose from the cup of coffee in his hand.

You called Stephanie on the way up here so she could get Tyler from school. You called your mom, too. I called my mom. I’m sure your mom called Aaron. Who else knows?

Pastor Garon knows already, she said.

Stephanie probably called him.

Is that okay? She drew the words out slowly.

Why wouldn’t it be?

Liz rolled her lips inward and raised her eyebrow. She rocked in her chair, but she didn’t offer an answer until several minutes passed by.

This is kind of private, don’t you think?

Josh shook his head and said adamantly, No. No this isn’t a secret and we aren’t going to live ashamed or embarrassed by this. We are going to get Colby the help he needs, and we are going to speak openly about this. This is part of who we are now.

I don’t want this to be part of our life, part of us.

No one does, love. But it is now. We may not tell every stranger we ever encounter, but we aren’t just going to be hush-hush about it.

What if Colby doesn’t want us talking about it?

It’s not just his story. It’s our story, too. We get to share our part. I know it seems crazy right now, but all of this will help someone, someday. Maybe.

It was Liz’s turn to shake her head.

I’d rather help someone in some other way. What’s to say any good comes of this? We don’t even know if Colby is going to live through this yet.

You’re right, we don’t know. But we must have hope. We have to pray and ask God to intervene. Jesus came for the sick and the needy and the hurting.

What if He doesn’t do a miracle for Colby?

I don’t know Liz. But right now, I’m going to keep hoping and praying that He does.

Josh sat down on the edge of the seat beside Liz. He put his hand over her knee and bowed his head.

Hey Big Man, I know it’s been a while. My boy is hurt bad. If You would do a miracle for him, I’d be awfully grateful. And God, I promise I’ll pray more. In Jesus’ Name, amen.

Liz bowed her head and waited for Josh to pray aloud. After a minute of silence, she lifted her head and found him staring at the picture on the wall across the room.

I thought you were praying, she said.

I was.

Pastor Garon came through the doorway with a bag of take-out in one hand and his Bible in the other. He wore a leather jacket over a solid green t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and boots. Liz didn’t quite understand this new fashion trend, but she knew Pastor Garon was rocking the look. His shiny blonde hair was slicked to the right side of his face, a hard part separated the longer hair on top from the buzzed hair around the sides and back of his head.

Hey guys. Pastor Garon scooted a chair that was across from them closer and then sat down. Are either of you hungry? I brought food. He held up the bag of Chick-Fil-A.

I can’t eat right now. Liz lifted her hand in thanks and waved away the food.

Thank you, Pastor. I might eat in a little bit. Josh accepted the bag from Pastor Garon’s outstretched arm.

Tell me what happened, Pastor Garon invited.

I was at work and Liz called me frantic. She’d just gotten home from the grocery store and she found Colby. The paramedics had arrived, so dispatch let her hang up the call with them and she called me. She was hard to understand but I raced home. They were loading him in the back of the ambulance by the time I got there, and the sheriff suggested that Liz and I start heading toward the hospital, so we weren’t trying to speed to follow the ambulance. Liz left then. I stayed to make sure the house got locked up. My sister is with Tyler and here we are.

How is Colby doing now? Pastor Garon asked.

All we know is that after they revived him at the house, he stopped breathing in the ambulance. They bagged him for the ride, but I don’t even know what that means. They intubated as soon as they got him here, which I guess is the ventilator he’s on. He’s had a scan of some sort, but we don’t know what they found yet. They won’t let us come back to his room. They said it’s standard procedure but it’s been almost forty minutes. I’m ready to be with my son, Liz said.

When you found him, was he responsive? Did he wake up at all?

Liz rubbed her palms over her jeans and looked away from Pastor Garon. I’d just come home from the store. I’d tried to get Colby to go with me. If he had gone…

But he didn’t and that’s not your fault, Josh interrupted.

Okay. She nodded, looking up at Pastor Garon, her forehead creased, and eyebrows pinched inward. I hollered for him, but I didn’t get a response. I needed help carrying the groceries in. Sometimes he likes to cook dinner with me too. I checked his room. Then I walked through the kitchen… she trailed off; her lips pursed tightly together.

What is it, love?

The groceries are still in the back of my car.

It’s fine, we will deal with them later.

The smell…

We need to be up here when they are able to let us back to see Colby.

Liz nodded.

You walked through the kitchen and what? Pastor Garon asked.

I checked the garage, but the light was off. When I came back through the kitchen, I was going to just start carrying stuff in, when I saw the blinds were pulled back from the sliding glass door. So, I went to see if Colby was sitting in the backyard. She swallowed hard and covered her face with her hands. She rocked in her seat.

His feet were only inches from the ground. Her words were muffled by her hands.

He was hanging? Pastor Garon asked.

From that tree in the backyard. The big one, where the boys used to have their tire swing.

Is that when you called 911?

She shook her head as tears rolled down her cheeks, with a hand on either side of her head, she pushed her hair behind her ears. Her gaze focused on the white-faced clock with black hands that hung above the table with the phone.

What happened next?

Pastor Garon, is this really— Josh started.

I ran across the yard. The first thing I could think of was to lift him. But then I couldn’t reach the rope. I had to— She covered her mouth with her hand and Josh put his arm around her. Her voice sank low. I had to let go and let him hang again. I ran inside for a knife and I was fumbling with my phone trying to call for help. I ran back to him and cut the rope. He fell in a crumpled heap. I don’t know what I expected but I was horrified to see him lying there like that.

Was he breathing?

He started breathing, these ragged, shallow breaths. They were inconsistent. I was trying to explain it to the dispatcher when the first officer arrived. He let me hang up with dispatch. I remember the officer kept rubbing his knuckles on Colby’s sternum. His commands were loud, almost like he was yelling at him. Once the firefighters and paramedics arrived, I couldn’t see anything. An officer had me call Josh and one of them was saying his neck was probably broken. She curled her arms around her midsection and hunched forward, nausea overcoming her during the retelling of events from that afternoon. She fell silent and tried to close her eyes, but the imagery was too vivid, so she snapped them wide open and stared at the lines in the carpet.

I’d like to pray with you, if I may? Pastor Garon’s voice broke the silence.

Please do, Pastor, Josh said.

Josh reached his arm around Liz and pulled her toward him. Pastor Garon laid a hand on Josh’s shoulder and the other he laid on Liz’s shoulder.

My God. He paused and breathed out. My God, you see. You know all that Josh, Liz, Colby, and Tyler are facing. We know Your heart is for your children and that Your plans are good. This doesn’t look good but God, You are a miracle worker. Please work here, now. Heal Colby’s physical body first. Then, Lord, soften his heart to receive Your love. Heal his mind. Lord I call You down now into this space with Liz and Josh. Please hold them; comfort them. Give them peace that surpasses all understanding. Remind them that You will never leave them nor forsake them. Be with Tyler and help him to trust You in these moments. It’s in Jesus’ powerful name we pray, amen.

Amen, Josh and Liz agreed in unison.

Time passed painfully slow in the waiting room. Pastor Garon checked his watch a couple of times and tried to continue light bits of conversation with Josh and Liz.

How long did you say you had been waiting when I got here? Pastor Garon asked.

About forty minutes, Josh replied.

It’s been an hour since I got here. I’ll be right back.

Josh and Liz nodded as he rose from his seat and exited the waiting room. Five or six minutes ticked by and Pastor Garon returned.

Let’s go back and see Colby, he said.

Liz looked at Josh. Her eyebrows scrunched in as if to ask, Can he do that? without saying a word. Josh stood up and stretched his back then reached his hand out for Liz. He took her hand and once she was on her feet, he grabbed her purse and the plastic bag filled with Colby’s personal effects.

Pastor Garon tapped the buzzer on the wall, telling whoever was listening on the other side, We are here for room seven, Colby Miller.

Okay, the doors are open, scratched a female voice, through the speaker on the wall. Pastor Garon stepped forward and pulled the door open. He motioned for Josh and Liz to go in. Stepping through the door was like entering a different world. The ICU was abuzz with activity. A dozen nurses worked on different things, coming and going from each room with hasty steps and fast chatter between them. Chatter that neither Josh nor Liz could decipher.

Are they talking in code? she whispered.

Nurse code, maybe, Josh said.

It’s the next room on your right, Pastor Garon said from behind them.

Josh looked up at the numbers above the rooms. They passed the room marked with a ‘6’ above the glass sliding doors. The curtains were wide open in room seven—where Colby lie on a hospital bed, with tubes and wires running all over him to various machines. He was still on the ventilator.

The nurses are going to be in here to put him on some sort of cooling machine, to keep his temperature down, probably within the next ten minutes. While they are in here, we need to just sit on the window bench and let them work, okay? Pastor Garon said.

Okay, but how did you get us in here? They weren’t coming out with any updates or coming out for us anytime soon, were they? Josh asked.

I pulled the pastor card.

Liz spoke softly to Colby, telling him who was in the room, where he was, and that they were all glad he was still with them. She told him she was going to put her hand on his arm and then she rubbed her hand over his arm. She noticed his freckles in greater detail than she had in the recent past. Both of his arms stiffened, his hands flexed at the wrist, and his fingers curled until his hands looked completely disfigured. At the same time, his legs stiffened, and his feet flexed, while his toes twisted and curled. His body trembled as this happened. One of Colby’s nurses walked in and saw the look of horror on Liz’s face.

He’s posturing, the nurse told her.

What does that mean? Liz asked.

It could be from an injury sustained to the brain. It can also just be the brain sorting itself out, but we don’t know yet. The doctor will be here in a little bit to discuss his scan with you Mrs. Miller.

It’s Liz. Please just call me Liz.

I’m Sophia. I’ll be Colby’s nurse all night.

Thank you, Liz said.

Pastor Garon squeezed Colby’s foot.

If it’s alright, I’d like to pray over Colby and then I will let you all be.

Please do, Pastor, Josh said.

They all bowed their heads and Pastor Garon began praying.

Dear God, we know that You are good and that You see Colby. Lord, the nurse mentioned brain injury and we know that You know the brain better than any of us since You created it. We also know that You have a detailed plan for Colby’s life and that Your plans cannot be thwarted. Please send Your healing power over this young man’s body. Align every cell from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet with Your will. Let his healing be a testimony to Your power from today forward. In Jesus’ powerful and healing name we pray, amen.

Amen, Josh and Liz said.

I’ll be back in the morning to check on you. Maybe you can go home to Tyler and take a shower and eat something while I sit with Colby tomorrow, Pastor Garon offered.

Thank you, Josh said.

I’m going to walk him down and get something to drink from the vending machine, okay love? Josh squeezed Liz’s hand. When she nodded her head, he released her hand.

Do you want anything while I’m down there? he asked her.

She shook her