Dick also insisted on being cremated, despite her mother’s protests. “Where will I visit you?” she argued.
“I don’t want to be confined to one place,” came his answer. “The mountains are my sanctuary, where I feel most connected to the earth and sky.”
Cremation, for him, symbolized a return to the elements, allowing his essence to blend with the winds, the streams, and the rugged peaks that had always been his refuge. By being spread over the mountain area he cherished, he could remain part of the landscape that had shaped his spirit, forever intertwined with the wild beauty that had given him so much peace and inspiration.
Capri lifted her chin slightly. That would be her choice as well…when her time came.
She choked up with tears.
She used to hate him. Her stepdad wasn’t the kind of guy who gave you a lot to like. He tended to get a bit mean when he drank.
Thankfully, Dick had finally sobered up years ago after his fourth car accident, where he put a young family in the hospital. The event served as the catalyst for some major changes in his life, not just in his drinking but in how he interacted with his family and friends. Soon, the old Dick gave way to a new version—a man who quietly gained the respect of others.
Capri’s sight clouded as she blinked away the emotion. Dick was the only father she’d ever known.
Just before their arrival at Moose Chapel, Fleet cut his sirens and lights. She followed him into the gravel parking lot and wedged her truck between Reva’s car and Albie Barton’s Jeep.
“Thanks, Fleet,” she said, giving the deputy a light arm punch before she made her way into the chapel.
Moose Chapel, a small rustic church nestled in the heart of Wyoming, was filled to capacity with the residents of Thunder Mountain, who had come to pay their final respects to Dick Jacobs. The wooden pews, worn smooth by generations of worshipers, were occupied by men and women whose lives Dick had touched in countless ways. Sunlight streamed through the simple open-air window at the front of the church, casting soft hues of color across the room, mingling with the scent of pine that permeated the air. The faces in the pews reflected a deep sense of loss but also a shared gratitude for having known a man whose presence had been as steadfast and enduring as the mountains that surrounded them.
Ignoring the nods of greeting and looks of sympathy, Capri found her way to the spot where her mother sat at the front and slipped in beside her. She clutched her hands in her lap.
Her mom smiled and covered her hands with her own. She squeezed tightly as Pastor Pete made his way to the podium.
Pastor Pete stood before the congregation; his voice steady yet filled with emotion as he spoke of Dick Jacobs. “Today, we gather not to mourn a loss but to celebrate a life well-lived. Dick was a man of quiet strength whose love for these mountains was as deep as the valleys they carved. He taught us the value of simplicity, of finding peace in natures embrace, and of the importance of community. Though his presence will be sorely missed, we find comfort in knowing that his spirit is now with the Lord, as free as the wind that sweeps through the Teton peaks he cherished.”
Capri’s ears began to ring. She struggled to swallow as her heart pounded so fiercely, she feared it might shatter her ribs.
“Breathe,” she told herself. “Just breathe.”
Suddenly, her chest tightened as if a vise had clamped around her lungs, making each breath shallow and desperate. Her heart raced uncontrollably, thudding against her ribcage like it was trying to escape. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and the room seemed to close in, the walls pressing closer with every second. Cold sweat trickled down her spine, and a terrifying sense of doom gripped her, overwhelming her thoughts with a flood of fear she couldn’t name or control. She clutched the wooden bench, gasping, trying to ground herself in a reality that was slipping away.
Pastor Pete paused, concern sprouting on his face. “Capri? Are you alright?”
In the distance of her mind, she could hear her mother’s voice. “Help! Something’s wrong with my daughter!”
2
Capri stood on the front porch of Reva’s cabin, lingering as the soothing rush of the nearby creek filled her ears. The sound promised a peace she desperately wished she could claim for herself.
This was the first time she and her lifelong friends had gathered for their weekly get-together since the incident at Dick’s funeral—when she’d lost control and made a complete fool of herself.
Before she could even raise a hand to ring the doorbell, the heavy wooden door swung open. “There you are!” Reva exclaimed, pulling Capri into a tight embrace. “Right on time.” Reva had an affinity for punctuality.
Capri followed Reva inside, joining Charlie Grace and Lila, who were already seated on the wraparound cream-colored leather sofa.
Reva’s house was a showcase of mountain chic décor. Warm tones, local stone and timbers, inlays of metals, and lots of leather furnishings created an inviting interior. But even the cozy charm of Reva’s home couldn’t distract Capri from the way her friends looked at her when she walked in.
Their eyes met hers, filled with a sympathy Capri had no use for. She stiffened, offering a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Capri,” Charlie Grace greeted, rising to give her a quick hug, her touch light as if afraid Capri might break.
Lila followed, her embrace lingering a bit longer, and Capri could almost feel the unspoken words of concern in the way her friend squeezed her arm.
“I’m fine,” Capri said briskly, pulling away and waving off their worried looks. “Really. I’m already over it. Life goes on, right?”
The room was thick with unspoken words, but the tension broke as Reva, ever the hostess, moved to the kitchen with a practiced ease. “We weren’t sure you’d make it,” Reva said, heading for the kitchen.
