by Stacy Monson
He fingered the worn leather bracelet on his left wrist. “I was headed down a path that would have eventually made me just like my dad. Then God stepped in and physically put me on the right path.”
Mikayla blinked. God? He thought the court judge was God?
“My mom could see where my life was going, so when I ended up in front of the judge for the third time, she asked if I could be sent here for one last chance to turn my life around.” He gave a short chuckle. “Can’t tell you how mad I was at her.”
“I can,” Justin said. Resting back on his elbows, shaggy hair still covering one eye, he glared at the fire.
Dawson nodded. “It’s pretty frustrating being forced into something when you just wanna live life your way. Back then the camp was run by its founder, a guy named Walt. He had an interesting history. He’d had great success in his life, but also made lots of mistakes. Prison-time mistakes. He could relate to what some of us were going through, and he had a good idea what the future held for us. But he also knew how healing it was to be out here, away from the stuff that was part of our poor decisions.”
“In the middle of nowhere.” Disdain dripped from Justin’s words.
“In the middle of nowhere—” Dawson agreed, looking at the angry boy then up at the blanket of stars against the black sky—“and in the middle of everything. There’s nothing out here to distract us from who we are and who God is. Nothing for us to hide behind. It’s scary out here, but not because of wild animals.”
Joy slid closer to Heather and linked arms. Mikayla hid a smile.
“Because facing ourselves, discovering who we’ve been and who we’re meant to be, can be a lot scarier than anything with teeth. Many of us have been told lies our whole lives. We’re stupid, ugly, fat, skinny. Too tall or short, too this or that depending on what the voices decided. We won’t amount to anything, we’re too much trouble, we can’t learn, we’re stupid, we’ll never fit in.”
Images of a childhood on the outside looking in wove through the flames, stabbing her with familiar pain. Never the pretty one. Never the one guys wanted to date. Never welcomed into a circle of friends. But Dad’s encouragement and pride in her attempts had balanced the loneliness, and, she was realizing now, developed a strength and resilience she relied on.
“Over the coming days,” Dawson said, “we’re going to discover a whole lot of things about ourselves. Some of it will be exciting, some a little painful. But my prayer for each of us is that God shows up big time here on the mountain to speak truth into our lives.”
His gaze met hers, then touched on each teen. “So I’m asking you to be fully present in every moment. Ask questions. Challenge ideas. Share your thoughts. And always be respectful of each other. This is a safe place to discover the real you, to find out who God created you to be.”
He stood. “And I promise you, if you’re open to learning and growing, you will go home different than when you came. In a good way. Let’s sing that first song again then hit the hay. The sun comes up early on the mountaintop.”
~ 23 ~
Up early, Mikayla rekindled the fire and made a fresh pot of coffee. With her first cup in hand, she strolled to the edge of the campsite to enjoy the view, savoring her favorite morning aroma—fresh coffee. But this crisp mountain air might take over that top spot. She’d already come to love this sense of renewal, of being part of something so big, so…awe-inspiring.
“Quarter for your thoughts,” came Dawson’s voice nearby.
She glanced sideways. “Wow. Didn’t it used to be just a penny?”
“Some thoughts are worth more.” He sipped from his travel mug. “Sleep well?”
“Surprisingly yes. It’s been a while since I’ve shared a tent with four teenage girls, so I wasn’t sure any of us would sleep. They went out the second they climbed into their bags, and I think I was two minutes behind. You?”
“Always do when I’m up here.”
Her gaze roamed across the panorama, from distant white peaks to nearby pine-covered slopes. “I was marveling at how amazing it is here, even when it’s forty-eight degrees and my nose is running.”
“That’s what I paid a quarter for? I thought it might be a bit deeper than that.”
“Hey, that was pretty deep!” They shared a laugh as Heather and Joy emerged from the tent, disheveled and shivering. Heather pointed toward the wooded area that had been designated as the girls’ latrine, and Mikayla nodded. Plastered together, they disappeared.
Mikayla turned back to the vista. She could never tire of such a sight. She needed to take a boatload of pictures, to remember this when she got back to Minnesota. The thought pulled a sigh out of her.
“Another quarter?”
A half-smile lifted her mouth. “I don’t ever want to forget this place.”
He stood quietly sipping his coffee. “Aside from the wedding, is there anything keeping you in Minnesota?”
She shrugged. “Not really. I’ll have to get my stuff moved into a smaller place that I can afford, which means I’ll need to find a job. So there are things needing attention.”
“Will you look for another writing job?”
“I don’t know. What I really want to do—”
Joy and Heather emerged from the woods and scurried to the fire where the coffee-pot sat atop a grate.
“Heather!” Mikayla called sharply. “Watch your scarf near the flames.”
The girl snatched the dangling accessory and stuffed it inside her jacket.
“Good catch,” Dawson said.
“I’d rather not have one of my kids burst into flames on my first trip.” She shot him a twinkling look. “Not a good way to impress the boss.”
As she stepped away, his chuckle made her grin. Now to keep the kids alive and well for the next four days.
The shriek sent a chill through Mikayla, and she leaped to her feet from where she’d relaxed beside the fire ring that afternoon with Britt and Tiffany after a short hike.
“Bear! There’s a bear!”
Sprinting toward the frightened voices, Mikayla checked her belt for the bear spray. The girls burst out of the woods, blowing the whistles they were required to wear. Mikayla skidded to a stop, ordering the girls toward the camp as she scanned the wooded area. Heart banging against her ribs, she yanked the canister from her belt and held it in front of her, arms locked and feet planted as she waited.
She strained to hear something that would warn of a charge. Birds twittered overhead, a breeze rustled through the leaves, but no sounds of an animal in the woods. Feet pounded from behind, and she glanced over her shoulder.
Dawson stopped beside her, breathing hard. “Anything?” he asked.
“Not that I’ve heard or seen, but we’d better check.”
“Wait.” His hand on her arm stopped her. “If it was an actual bear, I’m thinking that scream scared it into the next county. I’ll look. You go back and check on the girls.”
When she opened her mouth to argue, he held up the rifle she hadn’t noticed. “I won’t go looking for it. I just want to do a perimeter check. This is mainly to scare him off.” He whistled and something crashed in the underbrush. Mikayla tensed, then sighed when Pal bounded into the clearing. “And since Pal’s not alarmed, neither am I.”
The dog loped toward them, and Dawson squatted to greet him. “Good boy. Did you scare the bear away? Or”—he glanced up at Mikayla—“maybe you were the bear.”
“You think the girls didn’t recognize him through the trees?” She hadn’t considered that.
He stood and shrugged. “Probably. But we’ll make sure. Back in a few.” He motioned to Pal, and they went into the woods.
Mikayla turned and approached the group standing near the fire. “Dawson and Pal are doing a perimeter check,” she assured them as she neared, “but whatever it was is long gone. Where are Heather and Joy?”
Justin motioned toward the tent with a smirk. “In there. Or back at the lodge.”
The other boys’ chuck
les stopped when Mikayla frowned at them. “It’s easy to laugh at someone else’s fear, especially if it seems unfounded. The bigger person offers encouragement.”
Huddled together in the center of the tent, the girls jumped when Mikayla swung the flap open. “Just me,” she said, joining them. Tiffany and Britt followed her in and completed the circle. “You guys okay?”
“No one believes us, but we did see a bear.” Joy lifted her chin, eyebrows tented above the fear in her eyes. “We’re not just stupid girls.”
“No one is saying you didn’t, and no one thinks you’re stupid,” Mikayla assured them. “You did the right thing by making a lot of noise.”
“That scream probably scared every bear on the mountain,” Britt said. After a silence, Heather giggled, then the rest joined in, laughing until tears ran.
When they finally quieted, Mikayla held out a hand to the girls on either side of her. Once they’d all connected, she smiled at each one. “It took courage for all of you to register for camp, and greater courage to show up. You aren’t ‘just’ girls. You’re brave, and strong, and truly amazing. I’m proud of every one of you for being here learning, growing, trying new things. As Daws said earlier, you won’t go home the same person you were when you came.”
They exchanged smiles with each other, then Heather looked to Mikayla. “Would you pray for us to stay strong while we’re here? I’m not feeling it right now.”
The fear of facing a bear paled at the abrupt pounding of her heart. Pray? Out loud? “Of course.”
She lowered her head and squeezed her eyes shut, picturing Dawson. How would he do this? “God,” she started slowly, “sometimes we feel small and helpless, especially before a bear. But we have strength and courage inside we’re not even aware of. We want to dig deep and bring it to light. Help us do that. And thank you for keeping us safe here. Amen.”
The simple prayer seemed to be what the girls needed as they broke into happy chatter and squeezed together for selfies. Mikayla smiled for a few photos, then climbed out of the tent. Dawson, relaxed beside the fire ring with the boys, raised an eyebrow at her. She gave a thumbs up, then pointed toward the latrine area.
If God planned to strike her dead for daring to pray when she’d never acknowledged His existence, she didn’t want it to happen in front of the kids. She bypassed the latrine area and headed toward an outcropping of rocks she’d seen earlier. The wobble in her legs was either waning adrenaline after the bear-scare, or a growing fear of God.
Settled on the flattest rock, she lifted her face to the warmth of the sun and focused on slow, deep breaths. The girls were okay. She was okay. God wasn’t going to strike her dead for a simple prayer. And she was in the most beautiful place ever. The soul connection she felt to the mountains, to Dawson and the staff, to being here with the kids filled her with such strange joy she trembled deep inside. She was supposed to be here, in this place at this moment.
As a tear slipped down her cheek, she caught it with a finger and studied it in the dappled sunlight. Had the threat of a bear scared her to tears? Or was it the thought of leaving all this? She’d been terrified and yet not, filled with a courage that had allowed her to stand her ground. Maybe that was how mothers felt when their kids were in danger—they’d do whatever was necessary to protect them.
With a sigh, she propped her arms across her knees. Since learning it would be weeks before she could talk to Old Joe, she’d felt even more lost than when she first left Minnesota. A week later here she sat, bewildered yet content.
“You okay?” Dawson dropped down beside her.
He seemed to always have her back. “Yup. Just needed a minute. We’d better get back since they’re unattended.”
“Mikayla.” He held up his hand before she stood. “Pal is standing guard. We can take two minutes.”
“Oh.” She crossed her arms over her knees again. “Okay.”
“Your response to the girls was amazing,” he said. “Instinctual.”
She shrugged. “They’re my responsibility while we’re out here, and I just…reacted.” She glanced at him. “Stupid of me to consider charging toward the supposed bear on my own, though.”
“You did exactly what you should have—had the spray in hand while standing between the danger and the kids. Going alone into the woods would have been stupid,” he added, then chuckled. “And against procedure.”
“Thank goodness I wasn’t that brave.”
“Mikayla, I know it seemed weird that I asked you to come work with me when we’d just met, but it was what I call a ‘God prod’.”
She raised an eyebrow. Sounded painful, like something to use on cattle.
“A prompting from God,” he explained. “I didn’t want to cancel any camps, so I’d been praying about getting someone hired fast to replace Bucky. And then there you were up at Lone Pine. You were a natural with the kids and didn’t hesitate to help Hannah. That night, when I was trying to get to sleep, it was clear I was supposed to hire you. But finding you was the problem.”
She looked sideways at him, warmed by his smile.
“Leave it to God to solve that problem too. I laughed when I saw you at the coffee shop since I’m not usually in town during the week. Sometimes God makes it perfectly, abundantly clear what to do next.”
The silence between them was comfortable. “I’d been feeling a bit lost,” she admitted. “The best lead I had to find my person was gone for a few weeks, and I wasn’t sure what to do in the meantime. That’s when I realized it made sense to talk to you about the job.”
“I’m glad you’re part of the team. You’re a natural at this. How are the girls?”
“A little shaken. I think it drew them all closer together which was neat to see. But…”
When she hesitated, he prompted, “But?”
“They asked me to pray for them. I didn’t know how to say no so I prayed.”
“Cool.”
“Cool? God won’t strike me dead for doing that?”
He swiveled on the rock to face her and crossed his legs. “Why would He do that?”
“Well, because…I don’t believe in Him.”
“Good thing He believes in you.” A smile danced at the corners of his mouth. “If you don’t believe He exists, then praying won’t matter because He’s not really there, right?”
“I think…wait, what?”
“If you don’t think He exists, but you prayed anyway to help the girls, then that was a kind thing to do. If He does exist—” he added, eyes sparkling—“then He’ll have heard you. The Bible tells us He hears every prayer, spoken out loud or in our hearts.”
She gnawed her bottom lip, wanting the peace exuding from him. “But how do you know He exists? Really know in here.” She tapped her heart.
He swung his arm toward the view. “If for no other reason than this. The beauty, the harmony and coexistence of the eco-systems of the earth. The instinct of His creatures. The rhythm of life. He inhabits His creation and enjoys it like we do. It’s all here for us. There’s no way I can believe this is an accident.”
She followed his gaze. Was that why this place soothed her, called to her? God was here? She blinked. Pretty simple answer to such a big question. There had to be more to it.
“Let’s head back,” he said. “Pal’s good, but he’s a dog, after all. We can talk about this more tonight if you want.”
Walking behind him, hands stuffed deep into her pockets, she tried to corral the stampede of questions. Was believing in God as easy as looking at the beauty around her? But what about the ugliness that also existed? Where was God when she was conceived, and when Lindy and Maggie were given away?
It would be easy to believe in God when enjoying the beautiful solitude of the mountains, but stepping back into the real world would blow that simple belief away as easily as the wind tossed leaves and twigs. No. That kind of belief could come only with solid answers based on proof, not fresh breezes, birdsong, and wildflowers.
&n
bsp; She seemed to be on as much of a journey as the teens who now stood proudly beside the lunch they’d made on their own. Scary as this path might be, she’d have to keep her heart and mind open, just like them. She had so much to learn.
~ 24 ~
“I can’t believe we go home tomorrow,” Joy said with a deep sigh.
The others nodded where they’d gathered around the fire. Mikayla studied each face, already missing them. In a mere six days, she’d come to appreciate their uniqueness and admire their new-found confidence, including Justin. After days of hiking, fishing, games, and discussion he smiled easily now, the edge of anger gone from his young face. No longer hiding behind his hair, he even wore one of Dawson’s bandanas.
She moved her gaze casually to Dawson and pushed down the surge of affection. They’d worked well together, developing an easy rhythm that kept the schedule flowing. The shared laughter and unexpected opportunities for learning from each other put her slightly off-balance. He treated her as an experienced partner, not the newbie she was. He hadn’t made one off-color comment, was respectful of her and the girls without condescension, and talked easily about his faith in a way that set a yearning in her heart.
“He’s cute,” Joy whispered, settled beside her on the log.
Mikayla turned. “Who?” she whispered back.
“Daws.”
Grateful for the darkness that hid the sudden flush in her cheeks, Mikayla rolled her eyes. “Are boys all you think about?”
“Only when the cute ones are right in front of me. And he thinks you’re cute too.”
What? “Joy, you’re a stinker. He’s my boss. I think he’s just glad I didn’t lose any of you off a cliff.”
“Whatever,” came the knowing whisper before she leaned closer for a selfie.
Mikayla grinned for the photo, then hugged the girl she’d been sure wouldn’t last one day on the mountain. Every assumption she’d started the week with had been obliterated, every guess she’d made about the kids’ reactions wrong. Even things she knew about herself had changed. She shook her head. Once they climbed back down fifteen hundred feet, she’d probably go back to normal—whatever that was now.