by Stacy Monson
She listened. Nothing beyond the splash of water and birds twittering. “What?”
“The mountain is singing.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“You do. You just don’t know it.” He looked sideways at her. “Tell me what you do hear.”
She sat quietly a moment. “The creek running below. Wind in the trees. Birds. Something running through the leaves.” She looked at him and shrugged. “That’s all.”
“That’s all? That’s the mountain singing, Kayla.” Excitement filled the words. “About God and His creation, His love of detail, His joy in the silence. The wind in the trees makes me think of a choir humming. The birds add the melody. Listen again.”
Frowning, she closed her eyes and focused, hearing only those same sounds. Then the wind took on a deep sighing through the trees, sweeping down into the ravine. Twittering became birdsong. The water added a sweet undertone. The woods had come alive with a harmonious symphony, and her throbbing heart sang in response.
Eyes wide, she turned a smile toward him, touched by the joy in his expression. “That’s amazing.” How had she never heard it before?
“I knew you’d hear it,” he said, then added, “Not everyone can. You need a heart for this place to hear the mountains sing, and when you do, you realize God is singing over you as well. That you’re part of something so beyond comprehension, you have to join the song.”
They sat still, absorbing the sounds around them, then he turned toward her. “I followed you out here because I’m wondering if you’re not happy working at Outlook.”
“I love it.”
“You’d tell me if you didn’t?”
“Yes, I would.” She set the banana peel aside and folded her arms over her knees. “I guess you’ve noticed I’ve been…preoccupied.”
“Yeah.”
She stared at the ground, debating. “I got an email from my dad.”
“Today?”
“Wednesday morning. I’m still trying to…” Anger flared that he’d dumped that on her through email. “Apparently he tried calling but couldn’t get through.” A sigh doused the fire. “I suppose there’s no easy way to tell your child, who has idolized you her entire life, that you aren’t the hero she thought. That it was actually your actions that started the chain of events that brought her to this place.”
He shook his head. “No good way to admit that.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It changes everything and nothing. I’m still out here on my own with no clue what to do with my life, but now I don’t even have that ally to lean on. The person I depended on most to be there for me isn’t who I thought he was.”
“That’s rough,” he said. “Do you think you should head back now to get everything straightened out?”
“No!” It was the last place she wanted to be. “I actually thought I was working through things, getting ready to face my mom, coming to grips with my new normal which includes Kenny in my family tree.”
“Kenny?”
“Kenny Johnson. My bio dad. My mother’s summertime fling.” She stared across the ravine. “I’m the illegitimate daughter of a cheater and an ex-con womanizer, raised by someone I’d never have believed had the same moral issues. I’m a mistake, an oops that no one was ever supposed to discover.”
The pain in her words echoed between them.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this, Kayla.” He shifted on the log and faced her. “But I want you to hear me on this. You aren’t a mistake or an oops. None of that defines who you are. It might describe other people’s actions, but it is not who you are.”
“Then what is?” she managed over the knot in her throat. She’d become a whining, sniveling mess. Where was the decisive, fearless person she used to be? “I have no idea who I am anymore. Maybe I never did.”
“Because no one told you who you were to begin with. You picked up bits and pieces, but not the truth.”
She snorted. “The truth is there is no truth. Everyone decides what truth is to them, and that’s as far as it goes. Unless they get found out,” she added, sarcasm coloring the words. “Then they come up with a new truth.”
His expression remained calm. “You did DNA testing to find out who your biological parents were, right? But your DNA goes a lot deeper and means so much more. Your true father is the Creator of the Universe. God has spoken that truth over you from the moment you were conceived. Before that even.”
“The truth of my conception is that my mother had a one-night stand.” She stood and stepped away, then folded her arms and faced him, jaw set. “And now there’s a new truth. My dad had an affair first.”
He met her challenge, eyebrows tented with sympathy. “Ouch.”
The fight vanished. “Yeah.”
He crossed the short distance and took her shoulders in a firm grasp. “Mikayla Gordon, the truth of who you are isn’t in the actions of your parents. It’s in who God says you are. You were never an oops in His eyes. Your title isn’t illegitimate, mistake, accident, or unwanted. You were created in His image, and He’s none of those things. Your true DNA is found in Him. You’re identity is child of God, His beloved.”
The conviction in his voice, the earnest light in his brown eyes wrapped warmth around her battered, aching heart. If only that were true. “It sounds good, Dawson, but it doesn’t apply to me. I was definitely a mistake, an embarrassment.”
She stepped back, out of his grasp. “All my life my mother treated me differently. She says she never knew for sure, but I think she suspected and because of her guilt, she didn’t know what to do with me. I never fit in. I wasn’t pretty and girlie like Lindy, and definitely not smart like Maggie.”
She turned and looked up at the mountains, blinking quickly. “I always thought it was because I was so much like Dad, but now…” She didn’t want to be like him. Or any of them.
The tone from Dawson’s walkie yanked her back to reality. What was she doing, wasting his time whining when he was running a business? She gestured for him to respond to the call. He answered and told Brenda he’d be back at the lodge in twenty minutes. As he returned it to his belt, Mikayla retrieved her backpack.
“Mikayla—”
“Daws, this has been helpful. Really. Thanks for tracking me down.” She didn’t meet his gaze as she hooked the pack. “There’s work to do before the next Adventure group comes in, so let’s head back.”
He stepped in front of her. “Hey. Look at me.”
She hesitated, but it seemed ridiculous to stare at his chin, so she lifted her gaze. “I’m okay. Or I will be. I promise.”
“I know you will,” he said, “but it’s going to be a process. You’re dealing with a lot, and I don’t want you to go it alone. I’m available to talk anytime. I mean that.”
She nodded, a smile softening the tension in her jaw, lowering her shoulders. “I know. I appreciate it.”
They stood quietly for a moment before he shook his head. “You really are stubborn, not to mention frustratingly independent.”
“And proud of it,” she agreed with a cheeky grin that faded. “But not too stubborn to ask for help. When I need to talk, I’ll find you.”
He hesitated, then hooked an arm around her and pulled her in for a playful side hug. “I’m holding you to it. Let’s head back and start getting ready for the Sunday group. Good thing there’s no reception up on the mountain. We don’t need more emails like that next week.”
She laughed and started toward the trail. “That’s for sure.” The hike back in comfortable silence allowed Mikayla to mentally leave the pain and anger behind. She’d been living with the DNA results from her mother and Kenny. She’d never considered she had God’s DNA. It was an extraordinary idea, freeing and a bit overwhelming.
What she did know was that this solid, caring man had her back and that was enough for now. Once she went home, it might be a different story. In the meantime, she’d listen to the mountains sing every chance she got.<
br />
~ 27 ~
The next week’s True Adventure camp, followed by a week of day camp, and then another True Adventure camp passed without major issues. The summer was drawing to a close, and Mikayla was desperate to slow it down. Dawson now deferred the skills teaching to her, and the appreciative glint in his eyes kept her off-balance. All but two in the second True Adventure week’s group of ten had wilderness camping experience, and Mikayla was delighted to gather new ideas from them as well as share her own.
While her days were busy teaching, learning, and listening, the nights in the tent were long and silent as she wrestled with Dad’s revelation, and her inability to formulate a response. Without knowing if he’d told Lindy and Maggie, she couldn’t work through it with them. It was his news to share, just as her mother had had to come clean on her own. She could barely digest this herself; she had no words of wisdom for her sisters.
During the second week of True Adventure camp, they were soaked by a heavy rain, received several visits from a curious fox, and caught a total of three fish during two outings. Several times she encountered Dawson’s quizzical gaze through the flames, or a startled glance when she laughed with one of the boys. She’d liked to have been flattered, but his expressions held questions rather than admiration.
On the return hike Saturday morning, corralling the end of the line of kids, she caught glimpses of Dawson at the front of the line. Had she said the wrong thing at some point? He seemed to be questioning something about her. While she’d developed a serious crush on him, he obviously didn’t return the sentiment. She rolled her eyes. He was her boss, for Pete’s sake. He’d never mentioned a girlfriend, not surprising given his crazy life, but he no doubt had a policy to protect himself from swooning staff members. Too much time in the sun, kiddo. Once you leave here, you won’t see him again.
She stumbled, knocking the boy in front of her off-balance before landing on her hands and knees. Sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, she sat back and pulled her bloodied knees up for inspection.
“You okay, Mikayla?” The boy crouched at her side. “Sorry if I wasn’t going fast enough.”
“Totally my fault,” she assured him, eyes stinging from the shooting pain in both knees. She shrugged out of her pack and unzipped the first-aid pouch on the side. “I took my eyes off the trail.”
Word had spread through the group, and they gathered around her. Dawson squeezed through and knelt beside her. “What happened?”
She waved him off, flinching as she patted the cuts with the medicated pad. “Not paying attention. Dumb move.”
With a gentle touch that sent a tingle down her legs, he inspected the damage, then pulled bandages from the pouch. “Managed to hit those rocks square on,” he commented, glancing at the rock-strewn path.
“Always try to do my best,” she quipped.
He looked up at the kids crowded around them. “Everybody take a water break. We’ll be done here in about five.” As they moved away, he turned her stinging palms up. “Not quite as square on here.”
The skin was scraped, but not bleeding. “Sorry.”
He chuckled and sat back on his heels. “I’ll let it go this time. Your knees are gonna be sore for a few days. Keep moving anyway.”
“Yes, sir.”
He held her gaze, his smile deepening. “Gordon, you sure aren’t the typical staff person.”
Hardly sounded like a compliment. “I’ve been called worse.” She shifted and got slowly to her feet, brushing off her shorts to hide her disappointment.
“Hey.” He waited until she looked up. “I have other words that can’t be used while we’re working.”
“I’ve probably heard them all,” she said, her tone light. Tough, fearless, strong, unfeminine, scrapper, one of the guys. Atypical fit right in. “Wrap up your break,” she called to the group. “Let’s keep moving.”
She ignored Dawson’s hesitation and picked up her backpack, sliding into it. “Let’s get these knees moving before they get too stiff.”
Releasing an irritated breath, he moved to the front of the line. “Everybody here? Missing anyone?”
They counted off to show they were present, and he waved them on. Mikayla limped behind, flinching every time there was a steep decline that jarred her knees. One of the boys found a long stick for her that took some of the pressure off and eased the jolts of pain. Eyes up, watch where you’re going. Dad’s words rang in her head.
She’d yet to respond to his email, unable to formulate anything appropriate. Her heart had continued to ache as if someone had died, and she’d finally realized something had—the relationship that had been the foundation of her world. With her departure date only two weeks away, she had to figure out how she’d get through the wedding without ruining it for Lin.
Once they reached camp, Mikayla kept moving so her knees didn’t stiffen up. She greeted a dancing, yipping Lula who would not be ignored, then turned her attention to the campers’ families. She hugged each teen and shared a favorite moment of them with their parents, and finally waved the last one off the grounds before limping toward the bunkhouse.
Brenda emerged and stopped, hands on her hips. “What in the world?”
“Took a little tumble on the way down. Just need to redress them, and I’ll be back out to get the gear cleaned up and inventoried.”
“I’ll do that,” Brenda said firmly. “You helped with that massive mailing for the Founder’s Day Celebration. This way you can put your feet up for a bit.”
“Really?” She sighed. “A few minutes would be great. But I won’t rest too long, or I won’t be able to bend my legs.”
“True.” Brenda gave her a quick hug. “I’ll check on you when I’m done. And I’ll let Daws know I ordered you to rest for a bit.”
Continuing her hobble toward the building, Mikayla smiled at Brenda’s thoughtfulness. She’d become the first girlfriend Mikayla had who loved what she loved and didn’t think she was weird for being able to bait a hook or filet a fish. She was awed by their similarities, the hours of shared laughter and talks, even their disagreements that ended peacefully. How amazing to have a friend who appreciated her for who she was.
With Lula ahead of her, Mikayla gripped the handrail to pull herself up the stairs to her room, and turned her thoughts to the team. The guys treated her as a true equal. During free time in the evenings, she’d bested them in hatchet throwing and tying flies. They’d taken the losses with good-natured groaning before beating her soundly, digging a firepit and creating a shelter. She was so fortunate to call them her friends. She’d never felt so comfortable in her own skin.
After thoroughly cleaning her battered knees and tossing down a few aspirin, she shuffled to the bed and lowered onto her back, propping her legs on her duffel bag. With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and stroked Lula who snuggled against her. Just a few minutes and she’d get back to work. Helping Brenda with a mailing wasn’t nearly as time consuming as wrapping up the end of a True Adventure week.
A gently persistent knock at the door brought her eyes back open as Lula leaped from the bed with a shrill bark. So much for a nap. Mikayla moved her feet to the floor and stood, sucking in a sharp breath. Even those few minutes had stiffened the injury.
She snapped a light on, squinting as she limped to the door. Dawson waited, a tray of food in hand. “You missed dinner.”
“I what?” She ran a hand through her hair. “What time is it? I just lay down a few minutes ago.”
“More like three hours ago.”
“Three hours? Why didn’t someone wake me? I’m so sorry! I was going to go back to finish the inventory.”
He chuckled. “It’s okay, Kayla. How about coming down to eat while it’s still hot. That’ll get your knees working again.”
She hobbled down the stairs behind him to the bunkhouse kitchen and slid into the chair he pulled out. “Thanks. This is really nice of you, but you didn’t have to.”
“I know I didn’t, bu
t you knocked yourself out the last three weeks so it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad you didn’t literally knock yourself out when you fell.”
“Me too.” The aroma of meatloaf and potatoes made her stomach growl. She pulled in an appreciative breath. “Who made dinner?”
“Me.” He laughed at her blink of surprise. “Hey, I can cook more than burgers over a fire.”
Her mother would use that to prove her point.
“I’m impressed.” With the first bite, she sighed. “Mmm. You really can cook.”
“I’ll try not to be offended.” He dropped into a nearby chair. “How are the knees?”
“Sore. I can’t believe I did that. At least it was on the way down.”
“We all do it at some point. I’m just glad you didn’t break anything. A few days and you’ll be running sprints up the mountain.”
She could swing an axe, bait a hook, and hike up a mountain, but she’d never been fast. Faster than her sisters maybe, but that was hardly a contest. “I’ll be happy to just walk up. Sorry I left you to do the equipment wrap-up.”
He shrugged. “Brenda helped. It gave us a chance to talk over details for the party.”
She finished the last bite of her meal with a satisfied sigh. “That was really good, Dawson. Thanks. So I’m assuming the Founder’s Day party is about Walt?”
“Yup.” He fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers, frowning. “About that. I was thinking about something you said after you got your dad’s email. You mentioned that your—”
“Well, there’s the lazy bum.” Kyle’s voice interrupted as he led the staffers into the building. “Falling down the mountain and sleeping through dinner. Nice work, Gordon.”
They settled around the table, and he dropped several decks of cards in front of her tray. “We’re playing Rummy. You’ve been elected scorekeeper.”
She looked at Dawson. “What were you saying about the email?”
He waved a hand and stood. “It’s nothing. Good luck keeping score with this group.”
“You’re not playing?”
“I’ve got to get a list of supplies going for the celebration,” he said, and slapped Kyle on the back. “No cheating.”