“Did you pray about this decision, Raegan?” he asks in a low tenor.
I don’t have to wonder what he means bythis decision.
“I’m too afraid to,” I practically whisper.
His voice gentles. “If the timing is right tonight, then God will give you the opportunity and the words.”
Despite his diplomacy, I hear what he’s not saying. Probably because it’s the same fear I’ve been wrestling with for hours. “You think I missed my window to tell her before the festival, don’t you?”
In true Micah fashion, he takes his time in answering. “I don’t think that’s a question I should answer for you. But at this point, I do think you need to evaluate the motives at play for why you’d be doing it tonight.” He sighs. “I know you want to do the right thing, but I think you need to ask God what that is.”
As hard as it is to hear, I know he’s right. I also know he’s likely been right all along. “How much longer do we have on the road until we stop for the night?”
We’d passed the California-Oregon border only a few hours after leaving the Redwoods, and Micah’s goal for the night is to make it just over the halfway point so we can get an early start in the morning and pull into the festival by noon tomorrow.
“Maybe an hour or so more. We’re getting closer to my neck of the woods now.”
I wish our itinerary could have included his stomping grounds. But there’s a comfort in knowing we’ll be close. “How far from your home are we now?”
“From here? Probably eight hours. From the outdoor amphitheater we’re headed to—five, max.”
I peer out the darkened windows, wishing it was still light enough for me to make out the Pacific on the other side of the cliff.
Micah returns both hands to the steering wheel. “I’ve been thinking about something, too. Since the Redwoods.”
The change in his tone puts me on alert. “About what?”
“I’m going to let the search go.”
“What? But why?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about what Luella told me in Kansas—how my mom disappeared for an entire month. It could literally be anyone, Raegan. I can’t let this secret consume my life.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to understand this drastic shift in plans. “So what if you turn it over to someone else, then? A private investigator? If you need help with the financial side of—”
“No.” The word is a full stop. “I want to let it go. I felt peace today in that forest, and so much gratitude for what I do have. I think that needs to be enough.”
In the quiet that follows, I resolve to meet him in this new place as long as he, too, is making this decision for the right reasons. “And have you prayed about this?”
“I have. And I have peace.” He brings my wrist to his lips oncemore, and the sweetness of his kiss awakens every sleepy cell in my body. “Thank you for asking.”
The commotion in the lounge behind us has me straining against my seatbelt to see Cheyenne cradling her guitar as my oldest sister holds the bedroom door open for her before shutting it behind them both.God, please give me the words.
Bolstered by Micah’s hushed assurances that he’ll keep them plenty distracted for me to have the alone time I need with Mama, I unclick my seatbelt and gingerly step over the center console, passing Hattie’s rapid texting session on the sofa before I reach Adele and my niece near the bunks. The winding motion of the bus, combined with the mounting pressure of the moment ahead, does little to combat the rising nausea inside me. I can only hope sitting with Mama will ease it.
“Everything go well?” I ask my niece.
“Great! We even went over her duet she’s doing on day two with Keith Urban. She sang his part and I did hers, it was so much fun. I still can’t believe I get to sing at Watershed with her on Friday night,” Cheyenne whisper-yells. “When Nonnie was describing her memory of singing on that stage with Lynn on their last tour, I was seriously getting goosebumps. I really hope I don’t pass out from nerves. I wanted to keep practicing, but Nonnie said if we didn’t stop for the night, she was going to require toothpicks to hold her eyelids open.”
Cheyenne hugs me before passing through the lounge to put her guitar away.
“Mama’s exhausted,” Adele confirms, edging by me in the tight space to slide her bunk curtain open. She pulls out a fresh pair of satin pj’s. “The day was more emotionally taxing than I realized. Sleep will be good for her.”
“But Mama never goes to bed this early.”
Adele furrows her brow. “This was hardly a typical day, Raegan. Honestly, it would be good for us to tuck in early tonight. The next few days will be packed. The energy of twenty thousand people in one space will be draining, to say the least.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” I say, eyeing Micah’s bunk where the chapters are hidden. “I’ll just give her a hug good night, then.”