Elijah smirks. "I'll take that bet."

We stand around for another five minutes finishing our coffee until the Chief finally returns. "Alright team, here's the situation," he says, voice grim. "These drought conditions have gotten too risky. We need to take preventative measures, starting with Whispering Pines."

I raise an eyebrow, glancing at Elijah.

"Doesn't mean he'll shut down the campground," Elijah whispers to me.

The Chief points to an area on the map, "I'll need a team on the ground to assess the risk. If it's bad enough, we'll have to close Deer Creek."

Elijah groans.

The Chief starts pointing to people in the room, including me and Elijah. "You all are heading out today. Pack your gear."

As everyone starts to scatter to go about their duties, I pat Elijah on the back. He's grumbling about losing the bet. "Keep your money," I tell him. "I'll call the babysitter and she'll help out with Mia, take her to the ranch with Charlotte for the weekend."

"Thanks, brother," he says. "And it's not about the money, you know. It's about losing. I hate losing."

I laugh. "Well, pick a better bet next time."

Chapter 5

Ellie

The Deer Creek campsite buzzes with activity like a beehive, only instead of bees, it's a swarm of third-graders darting between tents and trees. I watch them with a smile, Danielle at my side, both of us chuckling at their excitement. We brought twenty 3rd graders and 6 chaperones, so our campsite is packed. But it's also so great to get out of town for the weekend. I haven't camped in years and really missed it.

I take a deep inhale of fresh pine before returning to the task at hand. "This is organized chaos at its finest," I say. Then I squat to hammer a stake into the ground to secure the tent Danielle and I will share tonight. After the transportation snafu this morning—which also caused me to miss the bus, so I had to drive up in my own car—we're running behind schedule, but everyone seems upbeat as we work together to set up tents.

"Nothing we can't handle," Danielle replies, her smile reassuring. "We're making memories, right?"

"Absolutely," I agree, adjusting my glasses that have slipped slightly down my nose.

"Think they'll be disappointed about the hike getting shortened tomorrow since we couldn't do it today?" She secures a pole, eyes meeting mine over the half-assembled structure, the sunlight filtering through the trees and casting dappled shadows across her face.

"Probably not," I say, smoothing out a wrinkle on the tent floor. "All they really want is to swim in the lake and eat s'mores. Then go home to watch TV."

We share a laugh and then focus on the tent, getting half of it up before I pause, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. "I just wish it wasn't so hot. Wasn't it supposed to be cloudy today?"

Danielle also breaks, stretching her arms above her head. "Yeah, but you don't want it to rain tomorrow do you?"

"No, but a few clouds would be nice."

"So what's for dinner? Please tell me you packed those jumbo marshmallows."

"Hot dogs and chips to start. And yes, I brought the jumbos and Hershey's bars." I grin, my mouth already watering at the thought of the gooey treats. "S'mores by the fire tonight. We'll also have storytelling, and Marcy's Dad brought his guitar."

"Perfect." Danielle grins back. "And I call dibs on five jumbos."

I smile and shake my head. "Alright, let's get these poles snapped together.”

"Moose!" Tommy calls out, chasing after his energetic golden retriever, the dog's fur glistening in the sunlight as he bounds through the campsite.

I brace myself as seventy pounds of wiggling enthusiasm collides with my legs, nearly knocking me off balance. "Whoa!" I laugh, giving Moose a good scratch behind the ears. His tail thumps wildly against the ground, stirring up a small cloud of dust.

"Sorry, Ms. Carter," Tommy pants, running up behind him. "I was tying him to a tree but he ran off. He doesn't like being tied up."

Danielle squats to give Moose some tummy pets. In a silly voice, she says, "He's just excited to be part of the fun. Aren't you, boy?"

Our moment with Moose is abruptly interrupted by a burst of loud music from a nearby campsite, the bass thumping through the air and causing the ground to vibrate slightly beneath our feet. A chorus of whoops and hollers follows, rising above the crackle of a fire that seems to dance a little too high for comfort. Danielle and I stare at the group of college kids setting up across the way, beer cans already in hand even though it's barely past five. A guy leaps up on top of a picnic table, red solo cup held high, his shirt discarded on the ground beside him.