Page 85 of The Roads We Follow

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 placesour 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 toremember this right here. The same Godwho spoke these mountains and valleys into existence is the same God whoknew 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 thingswe 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. “Haveanyof 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.”

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