Page 3 of Don't Want to Fall
Though I feel a little guilty for excluding the others, it might be nice not to feel as though Alanna’s policing my every move. I can just hear her after every picture I take.Don’t post that to social media. Remember the rules!
I glance back at the brochure, making eye contact with Bowinkle. Seeing a moose has been on my bucket list since I was a kid. So have many other things, but this feels like one I could actually cross off. Right now, I could use all the positive life momentum I can get.
“You know what? Yes. Sign me up, Winnie.”
“I think you’ll really enjoy it,” Winnie adds, focusing on her computer screen.
“If you could throw in a nice, hunky,singletour guide, that would be amazing.”
Winnie’s eyes sparkle with amusement as she finishes up the booking. “Okay, you’re all set. Flynn will be here at seven tomorrow morning to pick you up.”
“Seven?” I ask, fighting a yawn and losing. My eyes water from the battle.
“The best time to see wildlife is that dusky time right before sunrise or sunset.”
“Guess I better get some sleep.”
“It’ll be worth it,” Winnie promises.
As I turn toward the staircase, I dare to hope she’s right.
Chapter Two
Flynn
“Do you think we’ll see Bella and her baby today?” Tabby, my eight-going-on-sixteen-year-old daughter asks as we head to the lodge. She’s been obsessed with moose since they studied about them in school a couple of weeks ago. She knows more facts about the creatures than I do at this point.
“Maybe. It’s a good day for moose sightings.”
“It’s not raining,” she points out.
Meaning Bella won’t likely be hiding out in the trees, just out of sight, trying to stay dry. It increases the odds, even if only slightly, of the cow and her yearling being visible. I don’t have to tell Tabby that moose are lone creatures who rarely—if ever—travel in herds like elk, which makes spotting them all that much harder.
“You’re right,” I say. “But that could change.”
“Because the mountains have their own weather patterns?” she asks, remembering a conversation we had two weeks ago when I last took her along for a wildlife tour. She absolutely lovesbeing an honorary tour guide with her dad. I hope she never outgrows this phase. The one where she’s convinced she’s going to grow up to be a park ranger.
“That’s right.”
“How many do we have today?” There’s that too-grown-up voice again that would be more adorable if it didn’t remind me time’s going by way too fast. Before I know it, she’ll be going off to college.
I shake away the intrusive thought and do my best to stay grounded in the present moment.
“Four or five,” I reply.
“That’s a good group.” She sounds both serious and excited. Tabby loves talking to tourists, and they love talking to her. She’s a great icebreaker when I’m in a grumpy mood, as I am today. I’m not sure there’s enough coffee in the world to fix it, either. Serves me right for thinking another tourist might actually be interested in dating me and not just fucking me like I’m some kind of vacation trophy.
We pull up to the lodge, and I park my truck next to the passenger van we’ll be taking on the tour.
“Why don’t you go inside and get the official itinerary from Winnie?” I suggest, knowing full well that my daughter is antsy to get a cookie or whatever sweet treat the elderly woman has picked up from Ivy’s bakery for her.
“Okay!” She takes off in a burst toward the lodge entrance while I prepare the van for another tour.
Some days, it’s odd to think that this is my life. Though my father and grandfather before me were both park rangers, I had a different dream to be career Navy. But the universe apparently had other plans—namely one who wears green ribbons in her pigtails and calls me daddy.
Tabby was the blessing I never knew I needed.
It was never going to work with her mom, and I’m not bitter about that. It all worked out for the best. And though there are some days I wonder what I’d be doing if I was still enlisted, that curiosity pales in comparison to the life I get to live now.
