Chapter 9
Nine
Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you.
—Frank Lloyd Wright, architect
Kate drove at a leisurely pace along Moose-Wilson Road, savoring the scenery, her heart full with the day’s wonders in the park. As she rounded a bend, her eyes caught sight of a small bear crossing the path up ahead. She eased her foot off the gas, slowing the car to a crawl, then to a stop. The bear seemed oblivious to the car’s presence, continuing its leisurely stroll across the road. Kate flashed her lights off and on, hoping to warn her off the road. Surprisingly, instead of darting away, the bear paused and glanced in her direction, standing up on its hind legs and sniffing the air. Kate remained still in her seat, feeling a mix of awe and caution. She was safe inside the car with the engine running, doors securely locked, but the proximity of the bear still sent a thrill through her.
As Kate watched the young bear, she wondered about its chances in the wild. She guessed it to be a juvenile black bear cub, probably just one to two years old. Most likely, it had recently been nudged away by its mother to fend for itself. She knew the first year on its own was a real test for an inexperienced young bear. Over half didn’t survive. Kate learned that fun fact from Maisie just tonight.
With a steady hand, Kate retrieved her camera from its case and slowly raised it, while cautiously, carefully leaning out of the open car window. Her amazing camera’s silent shooting feature made it possible to capture the bear’s calm yet curious expression without any clicking sound to alarm it. The bear’s nose stretched forward inquisitively. Then it dropped down on all fours to approach the car. Every few steps, it paused to sniff the air, as if to assess whether it should continue forward, and each time it did, it came closer and closer until it was only ten feet away from the hood of the car.
“Easy,” Kate said, wondering what to do next.
Too close, too close. It occurred to Kate that the bear, even if adorable, could eat her.
Slowly, she pressed on the gas pedal and steered the car away from the bear. The bear turned to watch Kate pass by, a surprised look on its face, as if to say, “Hey! Where ya going?”
I wish you well, little bear , she thought as she drove off. But I don’t want to be your supper.
Later that night, as a long summer evening settled over the valley, Tim and Coop sat in Adirondack chairs on the velvety lawn in front of the Jenny Lake Lodge. They turned their chairs to face the steep granite mountains. The fading light painted the Grand Tetons in warm hues, creating a breathtaking panorama. Without any foothills, the mountains soared in front of him. It was what Tim loved most about Grand Teton. “Another beautiful day in paradise,” he said, taking a sip from his mug of hot tea.
Coop nodded, his gaze fixed on the view. “Can’t argue with that.”
“How’s it going with Frankie?”
“Terrible. I don’t want him for an intern. I don’t want any intern, but I especially don’t want him.”
“Give him time.”
“For what? For his attitude to improve? His work ethic? That kid is in a world of his own. Can’t you assign him to someone else? Or put him in the Wildlife Brigade? He says that’s where he wants to be.”
“Nope. Not old enough.”
“I thought a parent could sign off and give a minor permission to be on it.”
“Not this boy’s parent. Apparently, he needs supervision.”
“I’ll say,” Coop scoffed. “Then send him back to the YCP.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not? What is the deal with that kid?”
“His father is an NPS bigwig. Sally wants to give the boy special treatment.”
Coop grunted. “And that means sticking him with me?”
“It does.” Tim leaned back in his chair. “Sally thinks highly of you. Says you understand teens better than the other rangers.”
“But I come here each summer wanting to get away from teenagers.”
“You did a fine job at the ranger talk. I bet you’re a popular teacher.”
“So-so.” Coop rocked his hand back and forth. “My last review suggested that there’s room for improvement.”
“Was that from Emma?”
“Yeah. She thinks I have a bad attitude toward administration.”
Tim had to swallow a laugh. Emma, Coop’s former fiancée, was the school’s vice principal. Two summers past, she had broken off their engagement after she was plucked out of the classroom and promoted to vice principal by the principal. Soon after, according to a heartbroken Coop, it was clear that those two were much more than colleagues. “Have you ever thought of leaving the school? There’s got to be plenty of teaching jobs for someone with your experience.”
“Not that simple. For the most part, I like teaching there. I like the parents and kids. And I especially love that the school calendar ends the year in early May.”
Coop was a loyal guy. It was one of the qualities Tim admired most in him. “And maybe you’re hoping Emma will change her mind about the jerk principal and come back to you?”
Coop shot him a sidelong glance. “He is a jerk.”
Tim chuckled. “Maybe so. But maybe it’s also time you let go of the past and move on.”
Coop didn’t say anything for a long time. Then he leaned forward in the chair. “Tim, Emma and I, we had our whole life planned out. We were going to be teachers so we could have summers free for camping and hiking. We wanted to see all the national parks by the time we were thirty. Emma had it all mapped out. Every single park. We even thought we’d do a blog together about it, or Instagram the whole thing. Maybe a podcast. But then, out of the blue, she suddenly decided she wanted a different kind of life.”
Tim raised his hand. “I get it, Coop. I really do. But holding on to anger isn’t doing you any favors.”
Coop looked away.
“It’s like a poison.” Tim knew he was pushing it, the way he knew he’d pushed it with Thea, but he’d gone this far. What was there to lose? “Forgiveness is the antidote.”
Coop looked skyward in annoyance, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You missed your calling. You should’ve been a preacher.”
Tim laughed. “Nah. I’m just saying that letting go of the anger you feel toward Emma might do you good, that’s all.” He finished off the last of his tea. “Even better, come to church with me this summer.”
“I’ve gone with you.”
“I mean regularly. You can’t be here in this part of the world and not feel drawn to the Creator, to getting to know the mind behind it all.”
“You know, maybe you should think about applying to the NPS chaplain program. Then you wouldn’t have to retire at fifty-seven, right?”
Tim glanced at him, not sure if Coop was serious or just fending off further inquiry into his somewhat dormant spiritual life. He’d actually given some thought to that chaplain program. But for now, he’d said enough. On that topic, anyway. “Seems like there might be a little something stirring between you and that pretty photographer. The one in the waders.”
Coop raised an eyebrow. “Kate?”
“Is that her name? I heard a few people call her Zoo Girl.”
“She’s worked in a zoo, photographing the wild animals. Thanks to Frankie, the other photographers call her by that nickname. It’s not meant to be friendly.”
Tim chuckled. “I don’t doubt it. She’s fresh meat to a competitive bunch. They’re all after the next best shot. But maybe you should consider asking her out. You’re not getting any younger, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Coop scoffed in defense. “You know, John Muir didn’t get married until he was nearly forty-two. He enjoyed his solitude.”
Tim leaned forward, a more serious expression on his face. He knew how badly Emma had hurt Coop. The real issue was that Coop was reluctant to risk caring for someone else. “Well, just remember, solitude might be comfortable, but it’s not where you find the most growth.” He put his hands on his knees. “Finding a companion is a true gift. But it doesn’t happen without a little effort.”
“It did for John Muir. He was set up by well-meaning friends.”
“Then, consider me to be your well-meaning friend. I recommend that you try and get to know that Zoo Girl. I like her. She seems very genuine.”
Coop grumbled, not entirely convinced. “Once she gets her shot, she’ll be gone.”
“Maybe so.” Tim nodded, understanding. “Sometimes you need to embrace what’s right in front of you, even if it’s just for a season.”
“Speaking of embracing what’s right in front of you, what’s been going on with you and Sally?”
Tim nearly choked on his tea. How did Coop know about him and Sally? He felt a blush creep up his neck. “I’d better go find Maisie. I left her talking to the woman at the front desk inside the lodge. I have a feeling the woman might need rescuing.” He stood, took a few steps, then turned. “Coop, I’ve always wondered. Was it really so sudden?”
“What?”
“Emma. Her ... change of heart. Was it really so sudden?”
Before Coop could answer, or maybe before he knew how to answer, the lodge door opened and the woman from the front desk was gently pushing Maisie out the door.
On the drive over to his room near Jackson Lake Lodge, Coop pondered Tim’s parting question. Was Emma’s change of heart so sudden?
His thoughts drifted into memories, of Emma and the dreams they once shared. They had met in college, spent summers working in the parks, and planned their life together—a life “paid in sunsets.” In experiences. Not in a fat 401(k). Not in material wealth.
He knew he sounded bitter. He was still bitter. Coop had thought he found his life partner, but instead, he found himself alone.
So ... was Emma’s change of heart sudden?
Maybe there were a few things he had overlooked.
Some slight disagreements that might have been more significant than he had thought. His mind wandered back to painful memories with Emma, picking apart moments that now seemed like subtle shifts hinting at the unraveling of their relationship. There’d been some big arguments, like the one about accepting money from her parents for a down payment on a house. He’d resisted, fearing it would tie them down, needlessly complicate their life, while she accused him of avoiding adulthood. Ridiculous! They’d patched things up, only for more cracks to appear later.
Then there was the summer she opted out of their annual park adventure to plan their wedding, or so she’d said. When he returned in August, she dropped the bombshell—there was not going to be a wedding. Emma didn’t want to marry him. Adding salt to the wound, she told him she had been promoted to vice principal, climbing the career ladder without so much as a warning sign. She was now his boss.
It all cast a different light on his recent performance review. She had recommended that he consider shaking things up, maybe teach different classes or think about further education. He had dismissed the idea. Why would he want to change anything when he was content with how things were? It was that long sigh she let out afterward, the one he didn’t think much of at the time, that nagged at him now.
Why hadn’t he connected the dots? Any of them? Because he was a big fat idiot, that’s why.
Tim’s advice echoed in his mind as he parked at the lodge. Forgive Emma. Let go of the past. It was easier said than done, but Coop knew there was truth in it. Maybe it was time to stop dwelling on what could have been and focus on what was.
As Coop gazed out over the darkening land, Emma’s failure to love him the way she had promised, the way he had loved her, weighed heavily on his heart. But in that moment, a realization dawned upon him: he didn’t have to hang on to that hurt anymore. Tim was right. Anger was toxic.
As he stepped out of the car, he caught sight of Kate Cunningham walking up from the overview area behind the lodge, heading to the lodge entrance, camera slung around her neck. The sight of her brought a faint smile to his lips and he felt a flicker of something stir to life within him.
Tim thought he should ask her out. Should he?
His smile faded. What if she had a boyfriend? Or what if she said no?
He could almost hear Tim’s voice saying, What if she said yes?
A slight smile began to return.
Kate’s day ended with a deep exhale as she capped her camera lens, the last slivers of sunlight kissing the Grand Teton peaks. A long day but a satisfying one, filled with moments captured through her lens that she hoped would convey the raw beauty and untamed spirit of the wilderness she had immersed herself in. Her boots crunched on the path back to the lodge. She couldn’t wait to get these waders off and sink into a hot bathtub.
Her room in the lodge felt stuffy after being out in the fresh air all day. Kate set her camera bag down, sat down on the edge of the bed, and slipped out of the waders. She set them in the bathroom, started the water in the tub, then turned it off as she suddenly remembered her phone. She searched for it and found it in the bottom of her camera bag. The device felt almost foreign in her hands after hours of disconnection, a tether she was reluctant to reattach.
Cringing slightly, Kate unlocked her phone, her screen lit up with a barrage of notifications. The thing was on silent, but boy, did it have a lot to say. Her eyes immediately caught a flurry of texts from Maisie, each message adorned with an array of colorful emojis. Kate winced. Why did she think it was a good idea to share her contact information with a thirteen-year-old? After the ranger’s talk, before Kate left the visitor center, Maisie had peppered her with questions about her wildlife photography and Kate offered to show her a few tips sometime this week. But she hadn’t expected Maisie to bombard her with texts.
Ones like Just had a FABULOUS idea!!! (All caps, lots of exclamation points.) I can be your assistant!!!
Seriously? Kate was here on an assignment, not to run a summer camp.
Scrolling past Maisie’s digital enthusiasm, Kate’s gaze landed on the messages from Oliver. His texts were a mix of concern and mild frustration, wondering about her whereabouts, her safety, if she’d seen the bear and, if so, when was she coming home. The tone of his messages, though laced with care, felt like ... too much. Just too much. Kate sighed, her frustration mounting. Before she could even digest Oliver’s texts, Maisie hit her with another message, this time a meme that made Kate’s head roll back in exasperation.
She flopped backward onto the bed, her phone clutched loosely in her hand. She gazed at the ceiling. Why didn’t anyone think she had serious work to do? No one did! Not the oh-so-charming fellow photographers, who crowned her as “Zoo Girl.” Certainly not Oliver, who thought she should be home, available to him. And now a thirteen-year-old girl had Velcroed herself to her. She could just imagine how the other photographers would feel about having a chatterbox in their midst.
An image of Coop popped into her mind. She’d only known him for a few days, but he seemed to understand why she’d come to the Grand Tetons. And he didn’t patronize her, the way those photographers did. Tonight, when he told her that he might be able to help her ... well, that was very unexpected. Very touching. It gave her some hope that she might get what she came for. In fact, it might be just the right note to end the day on.
She clicked the switch on her phone back to silent and went in to take a bath.
About an hour before the sun dipped below the horizon, Wade made his way into the national park. Sure, he had topographical maps, but there was something about being right there, feeling the land beneath your feet, taking in the grandeur of the place, breathing the air, that no map could replicate.
Tonight’s drive was a bit of a wildlife parade. Moose sauntered, elk grazed, but alas, no bears made an appearance. He hardly saw any cars. No rangers at all.
The lack of visitors and rangers was a bonus in his book. Early in the season meant fewer crowds, and Wade was never one for crowds.
Just as he rounded a bend, a large creature caught his eye in a meadow. Wade pulled over and parked the car, reaching for his trusty binoculars, wondering if it could be a bear. His bear.
He adjusted the focus on his bins. A bison stood grazing in peace.
Wade entertained the thought of a bison head adorning his wall, a prized trophy. Where would the arrow need to hit for a fast, clean kill? Straight into the femoral artery? He watched the bison graze for an inordinately long time, pondering his options. But in the end, he shook off the temptation. He hadn’t come all this way for a cow.