Chapter 32

Raegan

Adele holds up her cell phone near the locked camp gate where we've parked the Jeep, searching for a signal, while Hattie and I peer through the trees into the legendary Camp Selkirk. A rush of nostalgia floods my system, even though I've never stepped foot on this soil before. Instead, I'm recollecting the vivid descriptions from Lynn's journals. If I squint hard enough, I can almost make out the river in the background.

"The cell service is too spotty, but Mama's last location as of thirty minutes ago shows she's here," Adele says, pocketing the phone. "Maybe we should keep driving to look for another way in?"

"Or we can hop this gate," I suggest as I pull myself up and over. I land with an oomph.

Hattie, whose eyes are still puffy and red, moves to follow my lead. "That's my vote, too."

Dust plumes up from her feet after she lands.

We both look to Adele, the rule-follower among us.

"Over the gate it is, then." She might be the oldest, but she's quite possibly the nimblest. She drops to the other side with ease and brushes off her hands. "Let's just pray we don't get taken out by a wild animal before we find them."

We trudge our way down a trail covered in branches and pine needles toward a large firepit that ignites the images Lynn's early journal entries created. I'm instantly covered in goosebumps as I think of the nights Mama and Lynn must have spent together, writing songs and talking about their dreams. There are several buildings in view now, and I can hear the river just beyond the sloped tree line.

I can hear something else, too.

Singing.

We follow the sound to the white-steepled chapel, where Mama is sitting inside on the steps of a platform a fraction of the one she performed on last night, shadowed under the large arms of an old wooden cross. Then I see Micah, sitting in the back pew, his gaze ever-watchful and curious as we find each other in this sacred space. It's all I can do not to run to him first and tell him everything that happened on the road.

But when Mama stands and moves toward us, whatever she sees in our faces causes her stride to falter. Hattie rushes ahead and falls to her knees. Sobs wrack her body all over again as she confesses what Adele and I have already forgiven her for.

"I'm so sorry, Mama," she weeps. "Please forgive me."

Mama kneels to meet Hattie on the floor, wrapping her arms around her until all my sister's shame and regret are cried out where they belong: at the foot of a cross.

"Oh, sweet girl," Mama coos. "How could I ever deny you what I was given so many years ago right here in this chapel?"

Once Hattie has taken several calming breaths in Mama's arms, Adele and I help them both to their feet again. Mama hugs each of my older sisters first, and then she reaches for me. She holds my face between her palms and speaks with such unbridled love and pride. "Promise me you'll finish the memoir you started, Raegan. Please. It's one of the most beautiful tributes I've ever read, and I'm not even to the births of my three daughters yet. You brought so many of my memories to life, memories I never want to forget—even the painful ones that have caused me to grow despite myself."

At first, I'm confused. How had she—

"Micah had the forethought to bring your chapters along with him this morning," she answers without prompt. "It's why I have no mascara left on these sad natural lashes. I cried it all off."

Once again, I find Micah. He dips his chin, and I mouth thank you through a watery smile.

Mama's expression remains tender. "I never want you to stop writing. I want to support you in stewarding that gift however I can. Agreed?" I nod as she hugs me. "Good."

After Mama releases me, she seems to take a moment to collect her thoughts before addressing the three of us.

"This," Mama says, "this right here is what I was praying would happen between you girls while we were on the road. That you'd learn to fight for each other and not with each other. I was on my knees most of the night, asking God to intervene today so you wouldn't have to walk the same path I did. I don't know what all happened on your drive today, but I can clearly see my prayers are being answered.

"As you know, I once had a sister I loved and swore to protect. I never could have imagined a future without her. And yet, somehow I lived thirty years without Lynn." She pauses. "If I could go back in time, I would have done so many things differently, starting with choosing humility over my pride." Her gaze scans over each one of us.

Mama steps out of our circle and walks down the altar steps into the sanctuary, taking in the stained-glass windows and running her fingers along the back of the wooden pews.

"As Raegan wrote about in her chapters, this is the church where I first heard the Gospel. I met Lynn at the firepit down the path, and only a week later we were singing up here together on this stage. Back then, the only legacy I ever desired to pass down to my future children was the hope we'd found inside these walls. It consumed us back then, this idea that God had plans to use us despite our faults and broken childhoods. But as I've grown older and my life became more and more cluttered with the debris of fame, I've questioned the real legacy I'm leaving behind to my children." She turns to face us again. "I hope what I give you today can be something that lasts for generations to come."

She continues weaving through the rows of pews, her sparkly shirt and boots glinting in the sunlight through the window panes.

"After I reconciled with Lynn last April and we said our final good-byes, I drove through this town for the first time in decades and ended up right back here. I walked through this abandoned campground alone, stood at the waters I was baptized in, and sat outside these chapel doors and repented. I prayed and wept for the sister I lost and for the sister I found again only days before she went to meet her Savior. I asked God to show me how I could honor her life, and immediately, my thoughts went to you, my darling daughters three. The idea for this road trip came as a way to reconnect us again, as my memories of that first road trip with Lynn are some of my most precious. But I was wrong in thinking I could force you to choose each other. That choice is yours alone to make."

The three of us are openly wiping tears from our cheeks now, and once again, Mama approaches the platform.

"Jana helped me with the logistics of the road trip—but I'd always planned for us to end right here, at Camp Selkirk." Mama shifts her focus to the back of the chapel. "Micah, can you join us down here, please?"

"Yes, ma'am." It's only when he starts toward the stage that I can see how glassy his eyes are. He joins our half circle at my side, and I can't help but reach for his hand. He squeezes it lightly.

Mama stands before us now. "I purchased this campground the week after your mama passed away, Micah. I couldn't stand the idea of such an important piece of our shared histories remaining closed to those who need it most, the way we once did." Our collective gasps ring throughout the chapel, but Mama continues, undeterred. "And I recently altered the deed to include five names—all equal shares in a living inheritance. My three daughters: Adele, Harriet, and Raegan. And Lynn's two sons: Micah and Garrett Davenport."

Micah's jaw hinges open as his gaze searches Mama's. "Luella, that's ... we couldn't possibly—"

"You can. It's what's right, and I won't be convinced otherwise. I missed out on so much when it came to your mother's life and family. And the truth is, I wish I could have known you as a boy so that I could have witnessed your transformation into the incredible man you are today. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for us these last two weeks, so I hope you and your brother will accept this gift and continue to be a part of our lives and family for generations to come. In addition, I'm also hoping you'll accept the undefined job description of camp director. Seems fitting after what we discussed in the car today, doesn't it? I could barely keep the words in when you shared your heart about bringing therapy to the outdoors." She winks.

Micah clears his throat twice but still can't seem to get any words out. By the shocked looks around our circle, none of us can.

"I figure we can do a bit of vision casting on our drive back to Nashville. Ideally, my hope would be to have this place up and running by this time next summer. Think that could be possible?"

Clearly flustered, he rubs at the back of his neck. "I truly don't even know what to say to all this, Luella—"

"Say yes!" Hattie beams. "You're perfect for this."

"I'm not sure I have the qualifications or credentials to manage something—"

"Nonsense," Mama laughs. "Nobody is ever fully qualified for anything. It's why we need Jesus."

"She's right," Adele adds. "You're the one for such a job, Micah."

"Thank you. All of you." He clears his throat. "This means a great deal to me, and I know it will mean so much to Garrett, too. The hospital he works at is always looking for nonprofits to support inside our community. I'm willing to bet Camp Selkirk will be a top contender, considering how well-loved it is."

"I'm excited to bring my kids here," Hattie says. "We'll help however we can, especially if s'mores are a reward."

"Cheap labor." Micah chuckles.

"Michael will be all over this project," Adele adds. "And as long as you can assure Cheyenne she won't have to deal with snakes, I'm sure she'd be up for a family work trip."

Micah chuckles. "Not many snakes around here, but there is some wildlife we'll need to prepare her for."

"Fair enough."

I move to thread my fingers through his, though I can't yet think about how far this camp is from home. "I'll help too, of course, however I can."

His soft gaze roams my face as a divine peace sweeps over me.

It's then I hear Mama hum the first note of a hymn we've sung together a hundred times over, one fitting for a moment like this. By the fourth note of the melody, every sister has joined in, and by the chorus, Micah has, too. As our voices blend into one, I lift my eyes to the cross at the far end of the stage and thank God for the way He intervened in my mama's life right here so many years ago.

And then I thank Him that He never, ever stopped.