Page 13 of Fool Me

I shut the door, following him. After the avalanche, I brought up the idea of selling Phantom, but Dad sternly told me that was not an option.

“If you’re going to sell Phantom, you’ll sell it to me and no one else,”he’d barked from his bed in the long-term care facility he stayed at for a short while after leaving the hospital.

We built this Scout together. For three summers, after the divorce, we bonded while he taught me everything he knew about rebuilding engines, wiring, and changing out brakes in his garage.

It started as a way to pass the time when I was visiting. My mom still lives in California, and I stayed with her through high school instead of trying to split time or switch schools before graduation. Once I graduated, I started spending summers here, and there were only so many ways to entertain an eighteen-year-old girl in a small town where I didn’t know anyone. That first summer was special—we built a bond that couldn’t be broken and healed parts of me that were still tender from the split. We did the same for the next three summers, our relationship strengthening a little more each year. Mom and I are still close—there’s no animosity over moving here to be near Dad. We talk weekly, and I visit her every year when I’m back in California.

Wisconsin, where I went to college, became less appealing each fall when I had to return to school after spending time in Wyoming. My college friends all thought I was crazy for not going back to wine country to stay with mom, but Timberline Peak stole my heart.

When I graduated, Phantom came with me to the small town just outside of Madison where I got my first job in an emergency room. In hindsight, I stayed in that job too long but it paid well and student loans are expensive. The day I paid them off I made the decision to stop working a job that wasn’t making me happy in a place I didn’t love.

Nothing ever felt right unless I was here. So, after five years I gave it all up—the apartment, the doctor I was dating, the long hours, the stress—and moved here, with no plan. I could have gotten a job at the hospital, but nursing lost its appeal.

I started working at Timberline Peak Search and Rescue alongside my dad four years ago, and I feel like I’m making a difference in a way I couldn’t with nursing. There’s too much red tape and politics in healthcare, but on search and rescue, I get to put my degree to use without as much bullshit. And, for the first time in my adult life, I’m happy.

The rush of helping people in the wilderness is different from my job as a trauma nurse. There’s no insurance to deal with or the drama of families. I’m still helping people who are in dire need, and it gives me a connection to my dad that I missed deeply after my parents split—the same one we fostered building my Scout.

Phantom isn’t exactly wheelchair-friendly, and she never will be, but there isn’t much my dad hasn’t learned to do in this new season of life. The baby blue rig is high off the ground, so we’ve adapted a system, using a strap and some muscle, to help him pull himself into the front seat. His adapted SUV works when he’s alone, but if I’m here we take Phantom because my dad refuses to give up riding around in the SUV we built together. It isn’t perfect, but it works.

I help him with the transfer into Phantom and put the chair in the back.

It’s a short ride back to town from my dad’s house on the outskirts of Timberline Peak, but we drink our coffee and catch up on our week as we drive. He asks about how Echo’s doing, and I let him know there won’t be any more missions for Echo until his check-up with Dr. Atlas on Friday.

We pass the western-style buildings of Summit Square, a careful balance of nostalgia with modern touches. The wooden facades have vibrant coats of fresh paint and functional metal roofs, giving everything a refined rustic feel. It’s uniquely Wyoming and makes you feel like you might run into a cowboy, without losing the modern amenities the town needs to stay alive. And it brings in tourists by the droves, which we also need.

As we pass the blooming baskets in front of Petals & Peaks, I look for the only handicap spot near the gym. After helping dad out of the SUV, we head inside. Then, together, we greet my friend Sloane, who’s working the front desk. She moved to Timberline Peak about two years after me. It took a minute forher to warm up, but she’s fallen into our little group of friends nicely.

“It’s my favorite father-daughter duo.”

“You say that to all the dads who bring in their daughters,” my dad teases her. It’s their regular bit.

“I would, but you’re the only one cool enough to workout with his daughter,” she reminds him.

“And don’t you forget it.” He teases Sloane the same way he would me.

Dad is shameless in how much of a clown he is. He’s the life of every party and I suspect it’s why he and Canyon got along so well. And while they’re both charismatic men that others trip over themselves to get to know, my dad would never step on people to get what he wants the way my ex does.

He puts the safety of his team and this community above everything else. When he’s on the clock, the switch flips. He can still make you laugh, but he’s wholly focused on the mission.

He isn’t reckless.

And he never cuts corners.

“Like you would let her,” I chime in, smiling at my friend across the desk. “Morning, Sloane.” She leans over the desk to give me a one-armed hug, instantly brightening my mood the way only she can. Despite being six years younger than me, Sloane has a way about her. Like she’s seen things that aged her soul but haven’t crushed her spirit.

Not unlike my dad.

“Bryce is in the physical therapy room. His last client just left, so you can head back,” she says to Dad.

“Have a good session,” I tell him.

“Everything okay?” Her eyes drag over me like she’s looking for physical evidence of my suddenly morose mood.

“Nothing endorphins can’t fix,” I lie, but I still need to tell my dad about Canyon coming back, and telling Sloane first feelsicky. Not that it would hit him the same way it’s hitting me—he doesn’t hold grudges the way I do. Whether that’s a negative or necessary personality trait is debatable, but I hold a grudge with the best of them and my ex is at the top of my list.

Sloane’s lips pull down into a frown, like she knows I’m not being outright truthful with her, but she doesn’t push me. With a parting wave and promise for a girls’ night soon, I make my way to the free weights.

Pulling my headphones over my ears, I crank up the playlist my dad made for me while he was still recovering in the hospital. Music is something we’ve had in common since I was in college, and curating a collection of obscure eighties rock for me to listen to was a way to help him pass the time.

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