Page 39 of Capture the Moment
“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 thesethat 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.
