Page 2 of Capture the Moment

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Coop knew.

“Let me ask you a serious question.” Tim leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “What concerns you more? The people or the animals?”

Coop’s eyes narrowed. “Is this a trick question?”

“The tourists reported that you called them idiots.”

Did he? He might have. Theywereidiots.

“Clueless,” Tim continued, leaning forward to read off the report. “Oblivious. Ignorant. Illiterate.”

Yep. Coop might have added a few more adjectives. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll be more careful.” He started to rise from his seat, but Tim shook his head.

“Sally wants to reassign you.”

Coop plopped back down in the seat. Great, just great.

If Tim Rivers was a true parkie, Sally Janus was a park lifer. She was acting chief ranger of Grand Teton National Park, but she sure wasn’t acting.

Most likely, if you asked someone to describe a female chief ranger, they’d come up with a rather robust woman. Strong, big, fearless. Sally was petite, barely over five feet tall, brightbleached-blond hair, with a squeaky little-girl voice. She reminded Coop of Dolly Parton. Coop found her to be an interesting person. And Tim thought so too, far more so.

Coop knew from Tim that the National Park Service path to career advancement was full of bureaucratic red tape. Qualified rangers competed for the same top positions via a point system. So most of the high-ranking rangers Coop worked with, like Tim and Sally, had earned their points at less popular parks or historical parks, waiting to get appointed to a promotion at a popular park. Or they would take an acting role at a more popular park, like Grand Teton, and wait.

And that’s what Sally was currently doing. As acting chief ranger, she was responsible for overseeing all aspects of the park, from law enforcement to resource management. Her word was law in the park.

Great, just great. So ... he’d been yanked from the backcountry. His mind raced through the dreaded possibilities—visitor center duty, trail maintenance. Nope, he couldn’t face it. “Tim, if I can’t be in the backcountry, I’d rather not be a ranger. I’d rather just spend my summer with a backpack. I quit.”

“Too bad. You signed a contract,” Tim said, unfazed. “We’re not about to lose that sixth sense you have. You’re one of the best bear managers I’ve ever seen. Somehow you know the whereabouts of bears before anyone else. Including the full-time Jenny Lake Rangers. And even if you’re not in the backcountry, you’ll still be managing bears.”

“What?” Coop squinted. “Please tell me you don’t mean that I’ll be directing traffic for bear jams.”

“At times, yes. But Sally mostly wants you to manage the photographers who are angling for the best wildlife shot.”

Worse than bear jams. Coop squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. “I don’t get it,” he said, opening his eyes. “How couldit possibly help the park’s insensitivity problem to assign me to babysit bear paparazzi?”

Tim pointed at him. “For that very reason. We’re going to show the world that Grand Teton National Park encourages people and wildlife to coexist. We are going to help wildlife photographers do their work, but safely, from a distance.” Growing serious, he leaned forward on his elbows. “Look, I agree with Sally on this. I’d feel better if you were down in the valley too. There’s chatter about a poacher who thinks it’s time to take 399 as a trophy.”

“Is it a credible threat? Seems like every year we hear similar rumblings.”

“Not sure.” Tim seesawed his hand in the air. “And I’m not sure how many years the old girl has left.”

“Then doesn’t it make more sense to keep me in the backcountry? Keeping an eye on her?”

Tim shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, Sally’s replaced you with Gallagher, Baker, and Spencer. Three rangers.”

Coop sighed. Three rangers who were more like the Three Stooges. But if Sally had made up her mind to reassign him, there was no way around it. And Tim wasn’t going to intervene. Added to her authority was that Tim was sweet on her. His gruff voice got soft and gooey when he talked about Sally. Coop had warned him not to get involved with someone he worked with, especially not a boss, but did he listen? Nope.

Tim pushed an envelope across the desk. “Here’s a plus. In that envelope is your key. I was able to get you in park housing near Jackson Lake Lodge. I tried to get you a trailer, but they were all spoken for.”

“Those dorms?” Coop groaned. “Tim, I’m not a kid.” That meant he would have a roommate. That meant sharing a communal bathroom. That meant the only time he’d be sleeping in the great outdoors was when he had time off. “Are you trying to punish me?”

“All ages live in those dorms. You know that. All genders too. Might end up being good for you. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the woman of your dreams.” He grinned. “My mother used to say there’s a match for every flame.”

Now Tim was pushing Coop’s buttons. This was a touchy subject.

“There’s a shoe for every foot.” Tim’s eyes danced with amusement. “A key for every lock.”

With a huff, Coop scooped up the envelope with the key to his dorm room and stormed out to Tim’s loud guffaws.

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