Chapter 23

Micah

Raegan hasn't sat in the jump seat for two days. She's offered it to each of her sisters, to Cheyenne, and even to her mom, but she hasn't come within three feet of me since our talk at the rest stop yesterday. In fact, for the majority of this day, she's been in the back bedroom with the door closed.

And it's probably for the best because whenever she's in my line of sight, she's all I can focus on.

I cannot wait to be outside—trekking through the woods, fishing in the lake, inhaling mountain air that isn't tainted by the sweet smell of Raegan's hair. What do they put in shampoo these days, anyway?

Thankfully, I'll have the next twenty-four hours in my favorite natural habitat to think about nothing but nature.

I'm self-aware enough to know when I'm reaching my boiling point, and usually by now I would have hiked or swam or biked and then called my dad to process it all over an afternoon of fishing.

Right on cue, the single-lane gravel byway appears, which places our bus front and center to the Ruby Mountains. This final stretch of road is one of my favorites because it marks the last twelve miles before we reach our destination. After the epic sights of the Rockies and national forests, the Rubies are a totally different breed of beauty. Yet, they require no special introduction or fanfare. I've made this trip with my dad and brother multiple times, just the three of us. It's probably why I feel bonded to it the way I do. I wonder if that's how this whole road trip has felt for Luella, revisiting the places she once shared with my mom.

The midday sun breaks over the tallest, grass-covered peak to illuminate the lush valley below, exposing every shadowed crevice, canyon, and glittering lake and creek. Whoever said Nevada was nothing but high desert and casinos hasn't traveled much outside of Vegas. No towns, no people, no cell-phone towers in view, no distractions. Just natural beauty upon natural beauty. And much like it did when I was a teenage boy, my chest constricts with the evidence that I am not here by chance. And neither are any of my passengers.

Hattie stretches awake from the jump seat beside me and gasps as she presses her face to the window. One by one, I hear the awestruck exclamations from each of the Farrows in the lounge behind the driver's cockpit.

"This is so beautiful! I can't wait to see where you're taking us," Hattie exclaims. "You've been here before, Micah?"

Grateful for the distraction from Raegan finally emerging from the back bedroom with a vaguely sheepish look on her face, I nod at my passenger. "Yes, I was seventeen the first time I was on this road with my dad and brother."

"You came often?"

"Every few summers." As I say it, a memory surfaces of my dad dropping his arms around our shoulders as we looked out at the mountains from the top of camp. "Boys, there will be times when you're tempted to doubt the hand of God in your life, and when that happens, I want you both to remember this right here. The same God who spoke these mountains and valleys into existence is the same God who knew your name before you were even a sparkle in your mother's eye." Fourteen years later, his words resonate in a profoundly new way than they did back then.

I blink away the swell of emotion as the dust plumes behind us and the mountains continue to beckon us forward with a welcome I need more than my next breath. We could all use more space than Old Goldie can afford us.

Once we arrive at the main gate of the grounds, I do a quick check-in with the retreat host I've known for decades, Kent Sparton, and then hop back into the bus with a renewed vision to make every hour here count. I want the Farrows to enjoy this place as much as I have.

"Got our keys, ladies!" I dangle two sets of keys before pocketing them both. Due to the openness of our accommodations, privacy is more difficult to come by than in our past lodging situations.

"Wait, are all of us women sharing one large suite?" Hattie presses her face to the window and peers out toward the ridge we're temporarily parked at. She can't see anything from here, which I'm happy about. I've been hauling hard to get us here these past two days, and I want them to be surprised. Despite the long hours behind the wheel and the cramped leg space, this nine-thousand-feet-above-sea-level dream destination will be worth it.

"That's correct, Hattie. The vacancies are limited this time of year, but Kent made some adjustments to my reservation so that all of you can sleep comfortably in the same space." I hop in the driver's seat and begin to pull into the spot Kent indicated on the map. Due to the mammoth size of our bus, we'll have to take our luggage down the dirt trail in a wheelbarrow ourselves.

"I've always wanted to stay at a mountain resort." Hattie states with an eager grin. "I started making a list with my kids of the things we want to do together once they're back—Aiden's first pick was to go camping and make real s'mores. Maybe I can practice here if they have one of those propane fire grills."

Unsure if she's making a joke or not, I twist my head in her direction. "You've never been camping before?"

She shakes her head. "My ex wasn't outdoorsy."

Once I'm parked, I stand to take a quick survey of the rest of my passengers. "Have any of you been camping before?"

"I went boat camping with some friends in California once last summer," Cheyenne offers with a shrug.

I sort through her explanation for hidden meaning. "As in, you were anchored overnight in a lake and slept inside the cabin with the use of full electricity and facilities?"

She nods.

I look to Adele and Raegan, who eye each other as if one of them might suddenly remember something that could suffice as "camping" in a pinch. They come up with nothing.

"I'm afraid I raised a group of Tennessee pansies, Micah." Luella laughs. "But rest assured, I've been camping many times in my youth."

Awesome. So one out of five.

"Okay," I say with slightly less bravado than before. "Well, the good news is these accommodations are a giant leap above camping."

Adele clutches her chest. "Oh, thank God, I was starting to panic you were putting us in a tent on the ground."

"You can relax, there are no tents or sleeping bags required. As long as you're up for a unique adventure and keep an open mind, you're all going to have a great time." As I scan the group, I do my best not to linger more than half a second on the face of the youngest Farrow daughter. "Be sure to grab your most sensible shoes for trail walking and whatever else you might need for the night. Also, don't forget to pack something warm for our campfire. It will get into the low forties overnight. Drop your supplies in the luggage wheelbarrow outside, and I'll push it down."

"A luggage what?" several Farrows ask in unison.

"You'll see."

After I talk everyone into tossing most of their belongings into the wheelbarrow, we begin the stroll down the dirt path as the ladies follow after me.

"You kind of look like you're leading a harem," Hattie quips as I steer the wheelbarrow to where the wooden signs are posted with arrows indicating which way to turn for lodging.

Five minutes in the fresh air and I almost feel like myself again.

"Kent said there's a beaver dam not too far off the trail over there. Might be a nice nature walk for some of you later. There's also a beautiful stream for fishing if you keep going in this direction, which is where I plan to be this afternoon. There's plenty of gear if anyone wants to join me. Hope you like trout; it's what's for dinner. There's also a mini-mart back near the check-in, but the pickings are slim." And likely expired, is what I don't add.

Nobody remarks on that, but it's probably because they're too busy staring at my surprise.

I plant the hefty wheelbarrow of luggage and face my harem. "Welcome home. This is our little slice of paradise for the next twenty-four hours. Yurt One is yours; Yurt Two is mine."

They stare at the accommodations behind me and then at each other. When not one of them says a word, I twist back to double-check that neither yurt has blown away in the last ten seconds. But the two circular structures covered in thick, waterproof fabric are still there.

"Don't get too excited now," I joke. "I wouldn't want anyone to strain something."

Hattie sets off to the far side of Yurt One while the others linger in the grass out front.

"Feel free to go inside and check it out," I encourage. "Kent says they've done a lot of upgrades."

A reserved Raegan pulls even with me.

"You may need to explain to everyone what these are," she says with noticeable hesitation.

"They're yurts." I glance at her blank expression. "Have you never seen one before?"

But just as I ask, Hattie jogs around to the front. "Micah, please tell me this wooden box is not our only option for a restroom." She points her finger to the private outhouse about five steps from the back of Yurt One. "And why are there signs posted about bears and snakes?"

I hold out my palms. "Listen, as long as you pay attention to your surroundings, you'll be just fine. Besides, there's also a pit toilet inside the yurt. Kent assured me everything is sanitized and ready for use."

"A pit toilet?"

"It's not an actual pit, Hattie, it's a—"

I'm cut off by a high-pitched complaint bellowing through the yurt's opening. Adele. "This is where he wants the five of us to sleep tonight? Mama, please go talk some sense into him. We are not camping people."

Beside me, Raegan groans and closes her eyes. "On second thought, you might want to give them time to acclimate before you—"

But I'm already trudging toward the entrance. I hear her follow.

"Is there a problem I can help with, Adele?" I ask with a level of diplomacy that would have made my psychology professor proud. I take a second to survey the inside of the yurt. It's a perfect match to the pictures I reviewed on Kent's updated website. Light-years more luxurious than when I last stayed here with Dad and Garrett.

Five twin beds with plaid quilts line the circular interior walls, leaving plenty of room in the center to stretch and walk around. The floor rugs inside are plush and clean, and there is a functional mini kitchen with a pump sink and two chairs and a small sofa on the farthest side.

"The problem is that this is a tent," Adele explains. "Albeit, it's more of a tall, oddly shaped circus variety than something you'd see pitched in the wilderness, but still, it's camping outside with nothing but canvas to protect us from whatever creatures are roaming about at night."

"According to the outhouse, that would be bears and snakes," Hattie provides unhelpfully.

"Now, girls, let's not be dramatic about this," Luella pipes in. "Micah has given us an adventure and—"

"Did you say snakes, Aunt Hattie?" Cheyenne's voice wavers. "I don't do snakes." A visible shiver wracks her body before she turns to Raegan. But whatever she finds on her aunt's face makes her clear her throat and paste on a smile. "Um, but the décor in here is totally charming, very ... rustic."

"Rustic is the appropriate word for it," Adele adds, "which is why I'll be spending the night in my snake-free bunk on the bus." Adele holds out her hand to me, and it takes every ounce of my restraint not to toss the keys out the open door into the snake-ridden bushes.

I cast a glance between the lot of them. "This is not camping. Camping doesn't involve indoor stoves or filtered drinking water that pours through a tap, much less furniture to sit on and utensils to eat with and an electric space heater to keep you warm through the night. Last I checked, nobody here is being asked to chop wood or sleep on the ground or bathe in the snow runoff. This is not camping."

"Okay, sure," Hattie says slowly. "But this is also not the type of accommodations we're used to staying at. I suppose I expected something ... different. No offense, Micah."

"That's it exactly," Adele agrees with a nod. "This is a simple matter of unmet expectations."

And it's right then that all the irritation I've been pushing down—the stress, frustration, indignation, fear, and rejection—reaches its peak.

"That's an interesting point," I say, focusing my attention on the middle sister first. "Because I can honestly say I never expected I'd be in the position to hold your warm vomit in a hat while riding in the back seat of a sedan, Hattie. But I did it because your safety was more important than my comfort." I face off with the oldest Farrow sibling next. "I also wasn't expecting to tote your specialty foods back and forth from the bus to the cooler outside Billy's auto shop to keep them from spoiling in the heat, Adele. But I did that, too. Why? Because I knew it mattered to you. And this—" I fling my arms out wide—"this place right here matters to me. So much so that I drove the extra miles while everyone slept and set up the arrangements in order to share it with you." I shove my hands through my hair. "Even a few hours in nature, of breathing in fresh mountain air, is proven to improve our mental clarity, energy, mood, sleep, and stress."

I reach into my back pocket and fist the bus keys in my palm. "So, no, this place is not a resort. There's no spa or five-star restaurant to dine at, but there are mountains and trees and trails and streams and beauty everywhere you look if you're willing to adjust your expectations and open your eyes." The instant my gaze falls on Raegan, at the shocked way she's watching me, my chest is seized by a pain I don't want to name. "It's your choice: stay and give nature a try, or go back to the bus and lock yourself away for the night." I drop the bus keys on the small table in the center of the room. "But I'm going fishing."