Chapter 34

Raegan

I don't realize how long I've been holding my breath until Micah seeks my gaze from down below. He's okay. It's as if a valve to my lungs has opened and I'm discovering oxygen for the first time. A mix of relief, elation, and gratitude swells inside me on his behalf, and it's a sensation unlike any I can name. Only, perhaps that's not true. Perhaps I can name it.

Once he slips his phone into his back pocket, he strides up the rocky riverbank and the dirt-covered path to where I wait at the trailhead. I'm not sure what expression I expected to see etched into his striking features after such a critical conversation, but the weightlessness of his countenance is so contagious, it captures me in its undertow and refuses to let go.

A dust cloud plumes behind him, the particles shimmering in the sunlight, as he reaches for me in a wordless invitation I readily accept. He scoops me into his arms and nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. And everything about this moment—my feet lifted off the ground, Micah's embrace holding me tight, his lips pressed firmly against my collarbone—is everything I want to hold on to forever, and yet the instant he sets me back on solid ground, I feel a breathless kind of foreboding I want to ignore.

"My dad wants to take you bass fishing," he says, lacing his fingers behind my lower back. "He wants to make sure you know he's the resident expert on the best spots around here and that I'm not to take you to any of them on my own."

I blink, confused. "You ... you talked to him about fishing?"

Micah smiles and bends to kiss one of my cheeks. "You should probably know, we often talk about fishing."

"But what about—"

"We talked about that, too, and I promise to tell you every critical detail of that conversation as soon as we're back on the road." He presses a kiss to my other cheek. "But the highlight of the call came at the end. Care to guess what it was about?"

My cheeks ignite from the imprint his kisses leave behind, and the urge to hold on to him strikes me again.

"You," he answers. "We talked about you, Raegan Lynn." Tenderly, he brushes his lips against mine. Soft, sweet, perfect. "I told him that I don't know how I lived in a world without you before now." Another tender kiss. "And most importantly, that I hope I never have to again."

"I feel the same way, Micah." I touch his face as if to memorize every strong curve as my breath shallows with a desperation I'm fearful to expose.

His kiss only amplifies the longing inside me.

But when he pulls back, he must see it. The coming good-bye I don't want and yet can't pretend away. Not even with the vivid imagination God's given me.

I can't swallow the ache away, but I manage a shaky smile. "Ever since we arrived today, I've had the strangest feeling—almost like I've been here before, despite having never visited Idaho." I touch the collar of his T-shirt. "I couldn't figure it out until just a few minutes ago when I watched you hike back up the trail from the river." My chin quivers. "This is how I pictured Birch Grove, Micah. It looks so much like the beautiful mountain town I dreamed of when I wrote my novel—"

"So stay," he whispers. "Stay here with me."

For what has to be the tenth time this afternoon, tears well in my eyes and spill over my cheeks. "I want that. You have no idea how much I want that, but ..." I drop my chin and study the dirt under my sandals, willing myself to be stronger, to be braver, to be more like the man whose arms are wrapped securely around my waist as if nothing could ever break his hold.

I lift my head and search the ground around us. It's impossible not to imagine how much of a blessing Micah will be to this community he has loved for decades, or to see how providential the timing is ... even if that timing includes a sacrifice for us both.

"This is right for you," I say in earnest. "The answer you've been praying for is here."

"You're an answer I've been praying for, too."

The conviction in his voice ripples through me, and I can't utter a word in reply.

"You could write here, Raegan. First your mom's memoir and then the sequel to Birch Grove and then whatever comes after that. Can't you see it?"

"Micah—"

"I know it's fast," he breaks in, "and if there was a way for me to pick this campground up and move it south to Tennessee, I would. Without question." He dips his chin to catch my gaze. "You could write every day while I oversaw the project-development phase of the camp, and then in the evenings, we would be together." His face and tone fall serious. "My sister-in-law has a loft apartment over her Pilates studio not fifteen minutes from here. You could live there until we're ready to..."

More tears track my cheeks as I yearn for him to finish that statement. "Until we're ready to what?"

He steadies my shoulders with his strong hands. "I've known what I desire in a life partner for a long time. I just never imagined I'd find her on a road trip. If it wasn't completely selfish on my part, I'd ask you to marry me right now."

Some irrational, ultraromantic part of me wants to fling my arms around his neck and tell him my answer would be yes, that if he can march me back up to that chapel and call in a preacher, I'd happily become Raegan Lynn Davenport while wearing flip-flops, shorts, and a messy bun just so we'd never have to be apart again. And maybe if this conversation had occurred yesterday, that's exactly what I would have done. But something holds me back. Chances are high it's the same something that's holding Micah back from officially asking.

I've spent a large part of the last few years resenting the ties that bound me to my family. I'd daydreamed about an escape, whether through a marriage that was never meant to be mine, or through creating a whole secret identity that would cut them out of a huge portion of my life entirely. But now that I have the choice to run away with the most incredible human being I've ever known—the pinch in my chest at the thought of leaving gives me pause.

And I can't ignore it. Not even for Micah.

The healing that started with my family on the side of the road today, the healing I wrote about in my fiction and prayed about in my real life after Daddy died, is still in process. And if I leave them now, I'm not sure it will continue the way it needs to.

Long distance doesn't seem like a viable option for the healing that still needs to be done.

And yet, the idea of saying good-bye to Micah is...

"You can't leave your family yet." His gentle statement is paired with a knowing look that both breaks and restores my heart at the same time.

I shake my head and whisper what might be the most difficult words I've ever spoken. "Not yet."

"I know," he says, pulling me close and kissing my hair. "I know."

"What happened today was..." My words catch in my throat as I remember Hattie's confession and Adele's breakdown and our collective honesty and commitment to move forward together rather than apart. "It's the start of something new, something healthy and right. And after so many years of living emotionally disconnected from one another, I can't walk away now. Especially when there is so much left to be resolved." I pull back and reach for his hands. "If I'm going to write this book like Mama's asked, then I need them all to be a part of it, too. I want to include their perspectives and memories during the years I was too young to remember. We're all a part of Mama's legacy."

My heart constricts as he searches my face.

"I can see myself here, Micah," I say with the same conviction he spoke with earlier. "The same way I can see myself with you. I just need a little more time."

His pointer finger grazes my jaw and stops at my chin. "I can give you that." His gaze lowers to my lips. "When is your deadline to Fog Harbor Books?"

I can barely think from want of kissing him. "If the contract remains as is, then I think my final draft will be due in November."

"Four months." He breathes out. "We can do that."

"We can." I nod in agreement. "How about we plan to host your entire family for Thanksgiving dinner at Mama's this fall? I'm sure we'll all have plenty to discuss regarding Camp Selkirk by then."

"It's a date." His smile is just short of reaching his eyes. "In the meantime, you can read me your new chapters over video chat."

"Of course," I say over the rising emotion in my throat. "And you can take me along with you on your trail hikes and fishing adventures."

"Yes and yes." He tilts my face to his. "To paraphrase my mother, ‘Life's too short to be questioning what to do with the time we've been given.' And, I think it's safe to add, who we spend that time with." He brushes his lips against mine. "And I want to spend my time with the woman I love."

Tears slip over my curved lips. "I love you, too."

When he presses his mouth to mine, he kisses me like it's the start of a much-anticipated homecoming rather than the start of a long and difficult good-bye. Deep down, I have faith it's not the latter. Our original route might have been full of bumps and detours, breakdowns and secrets, but even still, we found our way here together once.

I have no doubt we will find our way back to each other again.