Chapter 10
Ten
Everybody needs beauty as well as bread.
—John Muir
Lo and behold, there was Maisie at Pilgrim Creek at four in the morning, searching through the long line of photographers for Kate. She’d talked her grandfather into bringing her. As soon as she spotted Kate at the far end, she bounded over to her with a big hug. “I came to help!”
Kate cringed. “Okay, but you have to be quiet.”
“Gotcha.” Maisie put her fingers to her lips. “Fun fact. Grizzly Bear 399 has her own Instagram. She says it’s hard to type with claws.” Her face lit up. “Oh, I almost forgot! She has over 50,000 followers.” Her face fell. “I only have three.”
The other photographers made a hushing sound, so Kate moved her equipment even farther away from them, feeling a little half-hearted in the process. She knew full well that even if 399 appeared this morning, it wouldn’t be the shot that would get into National Geographic magazine. She needed something different, something unique. And she really needed Maisie to focus on something else. Maisie made her nervous as she eagerly watched every move Kate made. She was already nervous enough around these judgy photographers.
“Kate, look! It’s Coop.” Maisie sucked in a breath. “And Frankie .”
“Morning,” Coop said as he approached them.
“Frankie!” Maisie said. “I didn’t expect you to be here so early.”
Frankie scoffed. “Neither did I. I don’t want to be here. I want to be back in bed.”
“Part of the internship program,” Coop said.
Maisie drifted away from Kate, cozying up to Frankie, bombarding him with questions, inadvertently providing a welcome distraction.
Coop took a step closer to Kate and lowered his voice to ask, “I get the distinct impression that Maisie is more of a nuisance than a help.”
Was Kate acting that obvious? “What makes you say that?”
“You’re about as far away from the others as you can be.”
Kate, still attaching her zoom lens, looked up, surprised at Coop’s perceptiveness. “I know she means well. She’s very ... enthusiastic. About everything.” She let out a puff of air. “It’s not just Maisie that has me bothered. I know there’s a better story to tell of this bear than”—she swept her arm in the direction of the long line of photographers—“this.” She looked at Coop. “Did you mean it when you said you could help me?”
Coop glanced at the other photographers, then leaned in. “Now’s not the time. I’ll find you later.” He maneuvered back down the line, pulling Frankie along.
But how? How did he think he would find Kate? She planned to hike up to Hidden Falls near Jenny Lake this afternoon. Hopefully, Maisie wouldn’t ask to go with her.
“Isn’t he cute?” Maisie said.
“Actually, yeah, he is,” Kate said, watching Coop engaged with another photographer.
“Do you think he noticed me?”
Kate turned to her. “Isn’t he a little old for you?”
“Not hardly! I’m almost fourteen.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“Next April.”
It was only May ! Kate had to bite on her lip to not laugh out loud. She didn’t want to embarrass Maisie. She remembered how it felt to be a young teen and long to be older, to be taken seriously. Sadly, that didn’t resolve with age. She was twenty-five and still struggled to be taken seriously.
“Think of the story we could tell our children.” Maisie covered her heart with her hands. “We met and fell in love at a national park.”
Again, Kate had to bite her lower lip until she knew she could respond without laughing. “Still, I think your grandfather might have something to say about you setting your cap for a man who’s a decade or two older than you.”
Maisie looked at her, a puzzled look on her face. “Frankie’s only a few years older than me.”
“Right,” Kate said, cheeks growing warm. “Right. He, um, just seems older for his age.”
“I think so too!” Maisie’s eyes were on Frankie.
Kate turned back to her camera to finish attaching her zoom lens. She took several photographs to get different shots of how the morning light spread over the area, then reviewed the shots to see what needed to be improved.
Watching her, Maisie said, “Why are you taking photographs if the bear isn’t here?”
“All about lighting. There’s a time of day, shortly after sunrise and before sunset, that’s considered a golden hour. Some photographers call it the magic hour. Sunlight is soft, warm, and diffused.”
“Why would it matter in a photograph?”
“Softer sunlight provides more favorable lighting conditions,” Kate said. “It creates long shadows and a golden glow that can enhance the photograph.” She didn’t mind answering serious questions about photography for Maisie. Many people had been patient and helpful when she first showed interest. It felt good to pass along that kindness.
Much too soon, the sun rose in the sky, and photographers started to pack up and leave, one by one.
“Why’s everybody leaving?” Maisie said.
The woman with the gray pigtails, busy packing her gear, caught Maisie’s question. “If that bear hasn’t graced us with her presence by now, chances are she’s taken a rain check for today.”
Maisie’s eyes widened, and she persisted, “But why? How do you know that for sure?”
Kate shared Maisie’s curiosity. It was nice to have a thirteen-year-old ask the questions that she wanted to ask.
“Bears prefer dawn, dusk, and night to do their hunting. Conditions are more ideal for them.” The pigtailed woman cast an eyeroll look in Kate’s direction. “Quite unlike the luxurious lifestyle they lead in a zoo, where they get their meals served on a silver platter ... with a side of predictable routine.” On that snarky note, the woman left.
Maisie turned to Kate. “Why’d she compare this to a zoo?”
“Because,” Kate replied, beginning to dismantle her camera from the tripod, “she knows most of my experience in photographing wild animals comes from my time at a zoo.”
“SHUT UP,” Maisie said. “That is so cool.”
Kate saw Maisie’s face light with wonder and pride. “It is cool.” Very cool. And she was grateful that someone acknowledged it, even if it came from an overly enthusiastic thirteen-year-old girl who thought everything was cool.
Later that day, Maisie was practically flying on her bike, the wind tangling her curly hair into what her mom would call a bird’s nest. She was on a mission, eyes peeled for Kate somewhere around Jenny Lake Visitor Center. Kate had been vague when Maisie asked her what their afternoon plans were going to be. Oddly vague. But she happened to overhear Kate ask another photographer about a trail that wound around Jenny Lake and led to a fabulous waterfall. Maisie had a hunch that’s where Kate was headed this afternoon. If so, she would need an assistant.
As Maisie swerved into the parking lot at the Jenny Lake Visitor Center, she spotted Kate’s car. Better still, she spotted Kate’s yellow slicker! She was bent over, rummaging through the trunk of her car. “Kate! Hey, Kate!” Maisie skidded to a halt, gravel crunching under her tires like popcorn.
“Whoa!” Kate had to squeeze against her car to avoid getting hit. “Watch out, there!”
“Yeah. My starts and stops on this bike need work.”
Kate adjusted the camera strap on her shoulder. “I thought you’d be with your grandfather this afternoon.”
“No! He’s super busy today. So I thought I’d go looking for you.”
“Oh.” Kate didn’t sound as excited as Maisie thought she’d be.
“I’ll be your assistant,” Maisie blurted out, her words tumbling over each other. “Like, I can hold your equipment. I can even carry it for you.”
Kate’s smile wavered, then fizzled. “That’s a really sweet offer, Maisie, but today I’ve got a specific plan. I’m hiking on the Jenny Lake Loop Trail to head up to Hidden Falls. It’s a bit of a trek, and I’m chasing the light, you know?”
Maisie’s excitement dimmed but only slightly. “But I can keep up! And I won’t get in the way, I promise!”
Kate looked Maisie right in the eye, her expression soft but firm. “I believe you, Maisie. But photography ... a task like today is kind of a solo thing for me. You get that, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” She didn’t, though. “I just thought it would be cool to hang out with you.”
“And it would be,” Kate said. “It will be. But today’s not the best day for that. How about we plan another time? I’ll teach you how to use my camera. Sound good?”
No, it didn’t sound good to Maisie, but she could tell Kate wasn’t budging. “Okay, deal. But you better not forget!”
“I won’t.” Kate gave Maisie a playful salute.
With a heavy sigh, Maisie turned her bike around. “Alright, I’ll be off, then. Don’t do anything too awesome without me!”
Kate laughed, a genuine sound this time. “Don’t worry about that. Ride safely, okay?”
“Always!” Maisie called over her shoulder, already pedaling away. Disappointed but not discouraged, she made a note to herself to hold Kate to that promise of teaching her how to use the camera.
For now ... she thought she’d go find Coop and see what he was up to. Hopefully, Frankie was with him. She pedaled faster, smiling.
The sun disappeared behind a curtain of clouds, casting a sudden shadow over the main road where Coop stood alongside fellow rangers, managing the situation with a bear and her cubs. Keeping traffic moving, keeping visitors away from the sow, keeping photographers at a distance. It was the task he dreaded most after being pulled from the backcountry. A traffic cop for bears.
This was not what he had signed up for as a seasonal ranger. He thought about complaining again to Tim but dismissed the idea. Each time he griped about getting stuck with Frankie or about getting pulled from the backcountry, Tim gave him something else he didn’t want to do. Like a ranger talk. Tim insisted it was Sally’s idea, but Coop wondered.
He noticed a bicycle out of the corner of his eye, swerving along the road as if its rider were intoxicated. Suddenly, it veered sharply in his direction, coming to an abrupt stop just before colliding with him. “Coop!” The rider pulled off her helmet. “What’s everyone looking at?”
“Maisie! Watch where you’re going,” Coop chided, his irritation softened by her familiar face.
“Sorry. I’m not very good on this bicycle.” She looked around her. “Is Frankie here?”
“Yeah, he’s around here somewhere.”
Maisie scanned the area. “Where? I don’t see him anywhere.”
“He’s probably off doing his own thing.” That happened a lot with Frankie. Easily bored, easily distracted. A tendency to wander off.
Returning her attention to Coop, Maisie asked, “So what’s going on here?”
Coop gestured toward the trees. “We’ve got a grizzly and her cubs back there. They’ve been peeking out now and then.”
She gasped. “Grizzly 399? I have to go tell Kate!”
“Hold up. Not 399. This one is called Blondie.” Coop eyed the gathering storm clouds. “You should head back to your grandfather. There’s a storm rolling in.”
“Fun fact. Wyoming has more deaths by lightning strikes per capita than any other state. Did you already know that? I read about it in Kate’s guidebook this morning while we were waiting for 399 to show up, which she never did.”
Coop glanced around. “Where is Kate?”
“She’s photographing a big waterfall.”
Concern spiked in Coop’s chest. “What do you mean? Where did she go?”
“Some waterfall on Jenny Lake. Or maybe near Jenny Lake.”
“Hidden Falls?”
“Yes! That’s what she called it.”
“She took the shuttle boat to cross the lake, right?” If so, the pilot would hold the boat at the dock until the storm passed.
“Hmm, not sure. I don’t think so.” Maisie squinted. “She said she was going to hike around Jenny Lake.”
“How long ago?”
“I left her just a little while ago,” Maisie said.
Coop wasted no time. “Go find your grandfather and let him know where I’m headed. Tell him I’m going to find ... um, the Zoo Girl.” Tim was bad with names, but he’d remember Zoo Girl.
“Can I come with you?”
Coop shook his head. “No.”
“But, Coop!” Maisie looked crestfallen. “I can help!”
“No. Too risky.” Out of nowhere Frankie appeared, and Maisie brightened. “Frankie, get Maisie to her grandfather.”
A smile spread across Maisie’s face.
Coop instructed two rangers to remain vigilant about the bear jam before rushing to his truck. As he raced to the trailhead of the Jenny Lake Loop Trail, the once tranquil sky loomed with foreboding clouds, signaling the imminent storm. Why had Kate put herself at such risk? How could she not know any better?
More importantly, why was he so concerned about her? Why was Coop all twisted up over her? Normally, he was pretty clear-cut about park visitors: they had to look out for themselves. He and Tim would go round and round on this after hours. Typical of Tim, he argued that the ranger role extended beyond mere oversight. To Tim, it was about education, about going the extra mile to ensure the safety of even the most uninformed visitor.
Coop was all for the education part, but if visitors ignored all the signs, warnings, and up-to-date information that rangers provided, then whatever happened was on them.
But Kate? Something about her threw a wrench in his works. She just didn’t fit his usual “you’re on your own” policy. She was all wide-eyed wonder, and yeah, maybe a bit naive. But not in a bad way. It was kind of endearing, actually. He found himself wanting to make sure she wasn’t getting bullied by the other photographers, wanting to help her get the shots she came for, wanting to be sure she stayed safe while she did it.
It was like she hit some soft spot he didn’t even know he had.
Kate felt a few raindrops and pulled the hood of her yellow raincoat up over her head. She tightened the straps of her backpack and adjusted her camera bag as she set off on the trail around Jenny Lake. Now and then, the sun peeked through the clouds, casting a golden glow on the quaking aspens that lined the path. Almost fluorescent.
Beneath the towering dark trees, Kate found herself in a world of contrasts. The canopy above cast deep shadows that enveloped the smaller plants below, creating a serene yet mysterious atmosphere. Now and then she spotted a delicate yellow glacier lily or a cluster of pink spring beauty, early wildflowers that appeared as the snow melted.
As she hiked around the southern end of Jenny Lake, Kate’s excitement to see Hidden Falls only grew. This morning, she had overheard a photographer tell another that he’d never seen so much water pouring over the waterfall, fueled by the melting snow from the mountains. A hundred-foot cascading waterfall. She couldn’t wait to get a look at it.
She thought about the kinds of shots she hoped to get this afternoon—light dancing through the water, creating a mesmerizing play of colors and textures. It was moments like these that fueled her passion for photography, trying to capture nature’s shocking beauty in a single frame. She felt a tender intimacy as she hiked, as if the tall trees she passed and the shallow streams she crossed were familiar, despite never having set foot on this particular trail before. The familiarity was comforting yet intriguing, adding a layer of connection to her wilderness experience. It reminded her ... well, of how it felt to sit in church on Sunday. She felt closest to God in such moments. Sensed his presence, his pleasure.
Dark clouds overhead snuffed out the sun, and sprinkles turned to droplets. She had to stop now and then along the trail to step aside and let descending hikers pass by.
“Are you sure you want to keep going?” a woman asked. “The rain’s picking up and it’s getting pretty slick up there.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” Kate loved the challenge of shooting in changing weather conditions. The rain made the rocks glisten and added a dramatic touch to the scene. She had to slow down, though, as the rain was coming down steadily and the uphill dirt trail was getting slick. Runoff began to wash out parts of the trail, causing her to scramble to step over or around them without slipping.
When she reached the Hidden Falls junction, another clutch of hikers passed her on their way downhill. “There’s a storm coming,” one said. “Better turn around.”
Kate looked up at the clouds. Growing up in the East, she was no stranger to thunderstorms; they often passed as quickly as they arrived. She heard thunder, but it was far off. Now and then, lightning scattered through the sky. Nothing directly overhead. For a moment, she considered turning back but then decided to press on. It would be such a bonus if the waterfall had no visitors. She wanted to photograph the falls without anyone around, to capture the pure essence of nature. She just needed to do it fast.
The sound of rushing water grew louder as Kate neared Hidden Falls. The rain intensified, but she wasn’t concerned yet. She walked up and down around the waterfall, peering over the different overlooks, until she found the perfect spot to set up her camera. She adjusted the settings to capture the fast-moving water and the interplay of light and shadows.
Just as she was about to take the shot, a tiny sliver of a break in the clouds allowed a beam of sunlight to pierce through, illuminating the waterfall in a breathtaking display of natural beauty. Kate clicked the shutter, capturing the moment in all its glory. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
She smiled, her heart hammering in her chest. Her hands felt tingly.
This had been her dream! And she was actually living it.
Wade Schmidt stood by the hotel room window, scowling, watching the thick black clouds roll in. Thunder rumbled in the distance, announcing the impending storm. He had expected to have completed the hunt by now. Expected to be home by now. If he’d had any idea that this hunt would’ve taken so long, he would’ve driven and saved himself the distress of not having his weapons.
It was all Feldmann’s fault. Not that the weather had turned sour; Wade knew how unpredictable the mountain could be. But he had picked a turncoat who didn’t know the coordinates of the bear’s lair. Unbelievable! And it was entirely Feldmann’s fault that Wade’s equipment had gone missing.
As the raindrops splattered against the windowpane, he turned away and paced the room. He needed to figure out a solution, and fast. Maybe he should go ahead and replace the missing gear. He would need hours of practice to get the feel of the new bow, but missing the chance to go after this bear was not an option. He’d come too far to call it off.
With a sigh, Wade grabbed his phone and dialed Feldmann’s number. The call went straight to voicemail. Typical. He left a terse message, ordering him to return the call immediately.
Outside, the storm intensified, lightning flashing across the sky. Wade cursed under his breath, feeling the pressure mounting. He could feel himself tighten up, and he rocked his head from side to side, shook his hands out. Something about how this hunt was unfolding made him jittery. His nerves felt all twisted up, like he was fearful. He had never before been fearful.
If only he had Whisper. Everything would be alright if he could just get his trusty bow back in his possession.
Then he reminded himself who he was—Wade Schmidt, master hunter. He wasn’t one to let anything get in the way of a hunt, especially this hunt. Not even his missing bow.