Still My Forever Read Online Kim Vogel Sawyer

Categories Genre: Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)

Can a frustrated composer find new inspiration with the woman who once made his heart sing? From the bestselling author of Freedom’s Song comes a charming romance inspired by a real historical figure.

Four years after leaving town to make a name for himself as a composer, Gilbert Baty has returned temporarily to Falke, Kansas. Now, he’s trying to keep everyone from learning the truth about his disastrous years in New York City. He hopes to start writing music again in Falke, but he can’t help being distracted by Ava Flaming, the brown-eyed baker to whom he was briefly engaged before he ended things—and who still stirs feelings in him he knows he has no right to pursue.
Ava had thought she was past the loss of Gil Baty. But to her dismay, she’s as drawn to him as ever. The situation only gets worse when Gil establishes a youth band in Falke, showing once more what a good man he is.
But when the band has a chance to compete in a statewide competition, Ava faces the prospect of heartbreak again. Could music take Gil away forever this time? Or might God be stirring in Ava’s and Gil’s hearts a new song that will draw them together for good?


The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him.

—Psalm 28:7

Chapter One

Falke, Kansas (a Mennonite community)


Ava Flaming

“Is that the train I hear?”

Ava gave a start and turned from placing Papa’s freshly starched and folded shirts in the bureau drawer. Mama lay with her eyes closed, but her fine brows were arched in query. Ava pushed the drawer shut with her hip and hurried to the side of the bed.

“Jo, it is.” She smoothed her mother’s once thick, dark hair, now more gray than brown, away from Mama’s cheek and grimaced. Mama’s pallor was nearly as white as the pillowcase cradling her head. Why hadn’t she listened yesterday when both Ava and Papa told her the gardening would be too much for her? Oh, how stoakoppijch Mama could be. But then, Ava was often accused of stubbornness, too. She knew from which parent the characteristic was passed.

Mama opened one eye and pinned Ava with a narrow glare. “I wish your Foda had given more thought to the wisdom of building a house so close to the rail lines. The trains rattle the windows. I often worry our little house will shake itself from the foundation.”

Ava smiled to herself. The rail lines had been laid three years after Papa set their stone foundation. But of course Mama knew this. Once when she chided Papa about their close proximity to the silver tracks, Papa asked her how he was to know the railroad would choose to run lines behind their house. Mama pointed at him and said with eyes alight, “Ah, my husband, I used to believe you know everything. Now? I am not so sure.” And they’d all laughed. Ava missed the days when Mama teased and laughed.

She sat on the edge of the mattress and gently patted her mother’s vein-lined hand. “When Falke’s post office was right here in our house, our close location to the railroad line was fortuitous. You thought so yourself. Besides, our house is built solid. Not even last year’s tornado shifted it from its foundation, and a tornado is much more powerful than a passing train. Do you really worry about such things?”

A sigh eased from between Mama’s chapped lips. “If you are ne Mutta, you worry. It goes with the title. You’ll find out someday when you have children.”

Ava looked aside. She wished Mama wouldn’t say such things. Of course, Mama wanted to see her only daughter married and raising children of her own. Maybe even more now that Ava’s brothers were gone. Who else would give her and Papa Grootkjinja to spoil? But Ava was twenty-one already. The unlikelihood of marriage became greater with each passing year. Maybe she should stop stubbornly refusing her one persistent prospect. She inwardly cringed. Nä. Even for a home and children of her own, she couldn’t marry someone she didn’t love, no matter how much Joseph claimed to love her.

“As often as it stops here in Falke, we should have our own depot.” Mama rolled to her side. “Please close the window. I don’t wish to hear the squeal as it leaves town.”

Ava started to argue. The raised window allowed the sweet spring breeze to waft in. Despite her often gloomy thoughts concerning her single state and Mama’s poor health, she always found a measure of joy in the glorious scents of new life burgeoning. Might the freshness have the power to revive Mama’s spirits, too? But Ava hadn’t won yesterday’s argument about who should plant the vegetable garden. She’d only further weary Mama by arguing today.