Page 117 of The Roads We Follow

A montage of sacred memories flashes through my mind as I recall our short drive from the chapel to the Craftsman-style home we recently purchased just a few miles south of the campground on the other side of the river. Neither of us had stayed there until last night. And all of it—the long-distance relationship we prioritized, the late-night video chats, the weekend flights, the pressing editing deadlines, the challenging projects and meetings at the camp for Micah, the family work days on the grounds, the Luella Farrow memoir book signing in May, the camp’s grand opening in June, the wedding date set for September 2nd after the rush of the summer had finally died down—had been worth it. We’d said as much toeach other this morning as we tangled together, watching the sun rise over the river.

And there is so much more to come.

“How ’bout I leave you two lovebirds alone and I’ll see if I can locate your missing sisters?” Mama winks at both of us as she opens the gate to leave.

Micah hitches an eyebrow. “Given Hattie’s paranoia of wildlife, I don’t think you should be too worried.”

“She’s getting braver.”

“Only because she’s watched every YouTube possible on whatever fill-in-the-blank animal or reptile she might encounter in the outdoors.” He laughs. “But I’m glad Aiden and Annabelle love it here.”

I shift my stance to block the sun from my eyes. “If Hattie gets full custody, she mentioned coming to help for the whole summer next year.”

Micah grins. “I thought you weren’t a fan of family employees?”

I swat his chest and roll my eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not. They’d all be volunteers, not employees.” I smile up at him. “I have boundaries now, sweet husband, remember?”

“You better stop with all that sexy boundary talk. We have a long drive ahead of us until our stop tonight.”

This time when I laugh, I start toward the garden gate. Only, Micah stops me with a gentle tug at my wrist.

“Wait, Rae,” he says with an arresting tone that brings me up short. “I came down here because I wanted to show you something first. I found it right before I went to the chapel to marry my stunning bride yesterday.”

“Found what?” I follow him through the garden and trail over stones with names of his family members and life events that have come and gone. And then I stop. Micah crouches down and lifts a small stone I’ve never seen under the sunflowers. It reads:Micah’s future wife.Underneath it, in a much bolder black, is our wedding date.

Tears spring to my eyes. “Your mom prayed for your wife?”

“My mom prayed for you, Raegan Lynn.” He twists to smile up at me. “I ran back up to the house in my suit to find a Sharpie just so I could add our wedding date. It felt important to show my mom another one of her prayers had been answered.” He stands and takes my hand. “And I’m so thankful the answer was you.”

I kiss him then, bold and unashamed, and I silently thank God right here in the garden for the gift I have in Micah. Breathless, I pull back just long enough for him to ask, “Does that kiss mean you’re ready to leave? Because as much as I love family time, I’d really like to start our honeymoon sooner than later.”

I laugh and tug him toward the gate. “I promise we can leave as soon as I say good-bye to my sisters.”

Before he can respond, the sound of a funny horn tooting merrily in the distance causes us to pause.

“Is that coming from the camp?” I ask, looking down the road.

“I’ve never heard that sound in my life.”

But then we hear other sounds. Cheering and clapping and then the chanting of our names:Micah and Raegan! Micah and Raegan! Micahand Raegan!

Hand in hand, we sprint up the grassy knoll toward the driveway, where our extended family and closest friends from this morning’s after-wedding brunch are lined up shoulder to shoulder. It’s an effort to see over the excited crowd, but it’s not until Allie and Chip allow us to break through the chain of people that we see the vintage lime and white VW bus idling in the driveway.

My sisters wave at us through the windows.

“Say hello to Lima Bean, Junior,” Mama says in my ear. “I pray she’ll be the best road-trip vehicle you ever have.”

Micah and I turn toward her in shock and ask in tandem, “This is ours?”

“It’s a wedding gift. Your sisters have searched high and low to find it.”

I know we both want to protest this, as all the traveling here andback by our loved ones is gift enough, but Mama is not going to argue this point with us again.

Adele and Hattie wave us around to the open side door opposite to where we stand, and soon everyone is crowding behind us. Both my sisters are talking at once, trying to show us all the beautiful features of this gorgeously restored vintage bus, but I’m too overcome with gratitude to hear them. We were prepared to take my Bronco as our road-trip vehicle across the country, but this is exceedingly better. On the far wall hangs a wooden map, and each carved state is open and filled with a soft corkboard material so we can easily pin where our travels take us. The wordsMicah and Raegan’s Epic Adventureare burned into the wood grain at the top of the map.

“This is incredible,” I say to my sisters as they climb out of the Volkswagen to give my husband and me a chance to look around for ourselves. There are white curtains and a retro mini table and chair set inside, even a little countertop and sink and makeshift bed covered in coordinating sheets and blankets. It’s all utterly adorable.

“We think you’re pretty incredible, too,” Hattie says, hugging me tightly. “We wanted to send you off in a road-worthy vehicle so you’d be inspired to visit us more often.”

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