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  Soon Scott joined them, looking slightly rumpled and bleary-eyed. Temple noted patches of grey in his son’s sprouting beard, yet another sign of his family’s aging. The burst of nostalgia he had articulated the night before had comforted him, helping to vent any residual hostility and disappointment he might have harbored about his children.

  Perhaps, he acknowledged, he was wrong to withhold his largesse from his children, despite his belief that they were dogged by failure and false hopes. Maybe he was the one at fault, going from generous and supportive to what they perceived as an unyielding and stubborn miser.

  It was too late for any attempt at behavior modification. He had to accept reality. So what if they continued to fail and waste more money? They were his kids for God’s sake, his progeny; and he loved them.

  Besides, who was he to judge? They both might make it after all. Some people were late bloomers. Some people had to take hard knocks early in life to give them the strength to find their path. After all, he had taken the easy road, scuttling his early aspirations in music for the safe bet of his father’s business. So what if they didn’t want to go into his business? They had a right to their own life, their own ambitions.

  It would hardly break him financially to accede to his children’s wishes. Hell, even if he wrote it off, there would still be enough left for the good life with Muriel. As for their inheritance, he would honor Bea’s promise, with the proviso that such valuation would consider anything earned after he married Muriel. He was determined to be fair-minded and ethical.

  He felt relieved to have unburdened himself to his children about his relationship with Muriel, and he was deeply moved by their wishes for his happiness.

  Muriel had been very wise and understanding to suggest this trip. It was giving him a chance to reunite with his children and bridge the divide between them. Suddenly he missed Muriel.

  The line of horses followed trails that circled upward then down again. The terrain was a series of small hills. Ahead of him, Courtney’s horse seemed distracted, stopping occasionally to munch grasses along the trail. He had to halt his horse to wait for hers to finish its snack.

  When the gap between horses ahead lengthened, Courtney’s horse bounced forward in a canter to catch up. Temple’s horse did the same. It was not a smooth ride.

  Not far from camp as they rounded a bend, Harry raised his hand to stop the train and pointed in the direction of a small waterfall in the distance. He could make out the outline of a large animal.

  “Grizzly,” Harry said. “There by the fall. Big sumbitch, isn’t he?” He handed Temple his binoculars. “Big bastards are always hungry.”

  “He’s gorgeous,” Temple commented, passing the binoculars to Courtney.

  “Looks lie a teddy bear from here,” Courtney commented, handing the glasses to Scott.

  “Wouldn’t want to meet him on a dark night,” Scott said.

  They watched the grizzly until he caught a fish in his big paw and put it in his mouth.

  “He was poking around the camp last night,” Harry said. “Could smell him.”

  “Now you tell us,” Courtney said.

  “Didn’t want to scare you,” Harry laughed. “Don’t think he’s not watching us. He’d love to have that meat we got strung up on the pole.”

  “That’s a happy thought, Harry,” Courtney muttered.

  “Long as it’s not us he’s after,” Scott said.

  “Bet you’d make one tasty munch, Scottie,” Courtney said, giggling.

  “Better we watch him from here,” Temple said.

  “You got that right,” Harry chuckled.

  When the grizzly had finally passed out of view, they moved forward on the trail. Occasionally, Harry pulled his lead horse to a stop and pointed to various sights along the way: an elk cow and her calf lazily drinking from a stream, a moose grazing on low-hanging aspen branches, an osprey circling in the sky looking for prey.

  His knowledge assuaged Temple’s earlier fears. Perhaps Tomas was right. Harry could handle the situation.

  Through the trees Temple could see the slate grey, mirrored surface of what he had been told was Bridger Lake glistening in the rising morning sun. They moved through forests of aspens and evergreens, following the trail. Ahead of him Courtney was still having trouble with her recalcitrant horse, which continued to stall and munch the grasses that edged the trail.

  Periodically, she pulled on the horse’s reins with shouts of impatience when it wouldn’t obey. At one point, all the pulling and cursing got her so frustrated and angry that the reins dropped from her grip.

  Her horse, now free from the tension of the reins, moved suddenly off the trail. Instead of softly trying to talk the horse back on the trail, she panicked and screamed. The horse, equally panicked, started to move forward in fear, threading its way through the forest at an accelerating speed.

  The sound seemed to wake Harry into instant alertness, and he turned his horse in pursuit, shouting for Courtney to stop screaming. Miraculously, she grew silent, and found the presence of mind to embrace the horse’s neck and avoid the low-lying branches. The horse slowed, but the danger to her did not abate until she managed to extract her boots from the stirrups and slip to the ground.

  Scott and his father followed Harry, who had dismounted near Courtney. She sat on the ground, exhibiting both anger and humiliation, but she appeared, except for her dignity, to be uninjured.

  “Damn it, woman!” Harry rebuked. “Didn’t I tell you? Never leave go of the reins.”

  “Fucking horse,” she fumed. “It nearly killed me.”

  Harry, shaking his head, helped her to her feet. She brushed off her pants and shook her head.

  “I guess the Temples are accident-prone,” she said, in self-deprecation.

  “You scared the hell out of us,” Scott said, with a glance at his father.

  “All’s well that ends well,” Temple said, greatly relieved.

  “Not ended yet, Dad,” Courtney said, looking pointedly at her brother.

  Harry had remounted quickly and caught up with Courtney’s horse, which had stopped to graze. He led it back to where they stood. Apparently, his anger had accelerated.

  “Don’t you people understand?” he said, his expression taut with anger, his face florid. “I warned you about this. Please pay attention. You can’t be dumb about this. Read my lips, for chrissake.”

  “Hey, Harry,” Courtney said. “It was an accident.”

  “All I ask is you pay attention. I haven’t got eyes in back of my head.”

  His remark had an edge of nastiness.

  “Hey, Harry, we’re the clients, remember,” Temple said. He was tempted to bring up the high cost of the trek but demurred.

  “You’re paying for an adventure, Temple, and I’m trying to give you your money’s worth. But I can’t do squat unless you pay attention.”

  “Cool it,” Scott interjected. “We’re paying attention. And there’s no call to browbeat us.”

  “Fair enough. I apologize. Just don’t do dumb-ass things. I’m a guide not a babysitter.”

  Courtney exchanged glances with her father then turned to the guide.

  “You got your fucking nerve,” she said.

  “Easy, Courtney,” Temple said. A bad hangover he assumed was giving Harry a nasty edge.

  “Don’t tell me what I got, woman!” Harry shot back, his face growing to beet red. “Out here I’m the boss, and I’m responsible for your safety, which means you listen to me. I know this turf, you don’t. You’d all be dead in a few days if I weren’t here. So don’t tell me my business.”

  “God damn it!” Courtney shot back. “You’re our fucking employee.”

  Temple could tell that worse was coming.

  “Hold on. Hold on, Courtney. This is getting out of hand.”

  “Yes, it is, Dad. We don’t have to take this shit from him.”

  “Easy, Courtney,” Scott cautioned.

  Temple turned to Harry, desp
erately trying to assume the role of peacemaker. The reality was that they were indeed completely at Harry’s mercy. Temple searched his mind for some way to defuse the situation.

  “Come on, Courtney,” he told his daughter. “No sense making more out of this than it deserves. You’re fine. No harm done. I’m fine after yesterday’s problem. Let’s leave it at that.”

  Obviously trying to control her anger, Courtney kicked at the dirt and grew silent.

  “Scott,” Temple said. “Take Courtney for a walk. I want to talk to Harry alone.”

  Reluctantly, offering a mad parting look at Harry, Scott moved her away.

  “That daughter of yours better watch her tongue,” Harry said. His anger had not abated.

  “It was an accident, Harry,” Temple said. “Let’s not blow it out of proportion.”

  “All I ask is that you people follow instructions. Is that so much to ask, Temple?”

  “No it isn’t, Harry. We’ll try to keep out of trouble.”

  “Better believe it.”

  “Let’s clear the air. We know you’re a great guide and all that. So let’s all calm down.”

  They exchanged glances while Temple tried to summon up the courage to discuss the man’s obvious drinking problem.

  “There is one thing, Harry,” Temple began, clearing his throat. “Believe me, I don’t want to start more trouble, and I’d like to discuss this in a nice way.”

  “What are you talking about, Temple?”

  “It’s just that we don’t feel comfortable …” Hesitating, he sucked in a deep breath.

  “Well, go ahead,” Harry pressed.

  “In a nutshell, it’s…well,…your drinking.”

  Harry’s eyes narrowed, and a nerve had begun to palpitate in his jaw. He cocked an ear in Temple’s direction.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m calling it to your attention is all. You seem to be drinking more than I remember, and it has us concerned.”

  Nostrils twitching, Harry looked away. He kicked at the ground.

  “You trying to make trouble for me, Temple?”

  “Not at all,” Temple said, trying desperately to keep his voice level and show a calm demeanor. “I just thought…well, it makes us uncomfortable. I’m not being accusatory. Our last experience with you was wonderful, Harry. That’s why we thought it would be great to hire you again. It’s just that …” He could tell by Harry’s expression that he was in deep denial, which was exactly Courtney’s point last night.

  “I say we drop this, Temple,” Harry muttered. “You’re way off base.”

  “Well, Harry,” Temple sighed. “I just thought—”

  “Stop thinking, Temple. For your information, it’s bullshit. Besides, there’s a weight limit to what we bring in here. Like you and your children, I brought a modest supply, and I don’t, despite what you think, abuse it.” He seemed to have worked through his anger, and his tone grew more conciliatory as he spoke.

  “Listen, Harry. As you say, I could be way off base. If so, I apologize. No need for us to have any differences at all. I mention it only because it’s our perception.”

  “Fuck your perception.”

  Temple was stunned by the outburst and again forced himself to remain calm. It occurred to him suddenly that in a fit of rage Harry could leave them stranded here. At the thought, he felt his stomach tighten.

  “You’re taking it the wrong way, Harry.”

  “Am I?”

  His belligerence was palpable.

  “Look, if I’ve offended you—”

  “Just bug off, Temple. I know my job.”

  “I know that, Harry.”

  Harry shrugged, muttering under his breath, and started to move the horses to the trail as Temple followed beside him.

  “So let the matter drop, Harry. Okay?”

  “God damn citified, spoiled, soft-assed, fucking shits,” he muttered.

  “I told you, I’m sorry.”

  “Just don’t tell me how to run my outfit.”

  “Let’s just drop it, Harry. Okay?”

  Harry nodded, spat, and grew silent. He moved the horse back to the path. Temple followed. He had made his point, but it gave him little comfort.

  When they reached the trail again, Temple noted that Courtney and Scott huddled a few yards off. They were deep in animated conversation. Harry looked toward Temple.

  “Just get her to cool down,” Harry said in a more conciliatory and businesslike tone without the slightest hint of apology. “We don’t need any contention out here. Counterproductive for the experience.”

  “I’ll talk to her.”

  Harry tied Courtney’s horse to a tree, mounted his horse again, and set off to gather the other horses, which had moved off the trail.

  Temple joined his children.

  “You talk to him about his drinking?” Scott asked.

  “Yes, I did. He was madder than hell.”

  “What did I tell you?” Courtney said.

  “I hope he got the message.”

  “You think so, Dad? They never get the message until something bad happens.”

  “Like what?”

  “Delirium tremens, maybe. Or he does something stupid, endangers himself and others. You expect him to have an epiphany out here and take the pledge. The son of a bitch is a shit-faced drunk, and we’re stuck with him out here …” Her eyes scanned the horizon. “… in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

  “Say what you want, he has been helpful to us when we got into trouble.” Temple, despite his own misgivings, was trying to put the best face on the issue. “The important thing is that we’re all right.” He looked around him and swept the area with his arm. “Besides, nothing can spoil this. And …,” he paused, his eyes searching his children’s faces. “We’re getting to reconnect out here. That’s worth its weight in gold to me. So please, kids, let’s cool it. We don’t have much choice.”

  He watched them digest his plea, exchange glances, and shrug their understanding.

  “Sorry, Dad,” Courtney said. “You do have a point.”

  “Look, as long as he can function well,” Scott pointed out, “no need to look for trouble. Let’s try to smooth things over.”

  “You mean apologize?” Courtney asked, snickering.

  “Just try to hold down your temper,” Temple said. “No matter what, he’s got the upper hand.”

  “What do you think, Scott?” she asked.

  “He owes us the apology, Dad,” Scott said. “Not the other way around.”

  “Let’s not complicate things,” Courtney said. “I’ll apologize.”

  “Good girl. Anyway, he says that he could not have brought lots of booze in anyhow because of the weight problem.”

  “And you believed him?” Courtney chortled.

  “It sounded credible enough,” Temple said. “Remember the fuss at the trailhead?”

  “Sure, Dad, I remember,” Courtney replied, shrugging and looking away. “Tell him, Scott.”

  “I was waiting for a chance when we were alone. He’s got booze stashed away,” Scott said. “Buried.” He recounted what he had seen Tomas dig up the night before.

  “Buried?” Temple was aghast.

  “Maybe in case the rangers visit,” Scott added. “Or because of the weight. He’s probably got booze buried everywhere. Clever bastard. And his Mexican sidekick is his willing accomplice.”

  “Do you think we can blow his license?” Courtney asked.

  “Let’s not blow anything,” Temple snapped. “Let’s just try to keep things calm. At this stage, he’s functioning and apparently doing his job. No sense stirring the pot. Besides, things seem to be going well and—let’s face it—we can’t blame Harry for our missteps. Let’s just pay more attention to his warnings.”

  He was worried, but he didn’t want them to see it and add to their own anxiety. They grew silent, watching Harry as he led the horses back to the trail.

  “I agree, Dad,” Courtney s
aid. “No point in getting him all riled up.”

  Harry came closer. He looked much calmer, less tense. Temple speculated he had had a few nips. As he came forward, the familiar aura of booze was unmistakable.

  “Hey, Harry,” Courtney said. “Forgive me. I went bananas. I guess the whole episode pissed me off. My fault entirely, I didn’t use my head. Bygones, okay?”

  Harry nodded, appearing as eager as the others for the apology.

  “I forgot it happened,” he said, forcing a smile. “Now let’s mount up. And hold on to the reins.”

  They went through the process and all were up on their horses, except their father, who had to be led to a fallen tree to give him the height he needed to mount.

  Harry changed the order of the riders, putting Courtney directly behind him and Scott and in front of Temple.

  “As old Duke Wayne would put it,” Harry said, lifting his arm with a flourish, “move ‘em out.”

  Trouble averted for the moment, Temple thought, trying without success to erase any anxiety from his mind.

  Chapter 14

  During lunch, Courtney and Scott listened to their father recall memories from their earlier trip. They sat in the shade of a cottonwood tree, munching canned tuna fish sandwiches and candy bars, washing them down with water. Harry had disappeared with his usual explanation to “see about the horses,” which were tied to trees out of sight. By now they knew he would be “out of sight” for hours, sipping on his booze.

  “Off to the gin mill in the wilderness,” Courtney said. “Guy needs twelve steps.”

  “Sorry about this, kids,” Temple said.

  “Not your fault, Dad,” Scott said.

  They watched white, scudding, cottony clouds throw their reflection on the mirrored lake. The light breeze rustling the leaves and branches of the embracing wilderness sounded like soft background music. By then, Courtney was fully recovered from her anger and managed to put it aside and observe the spectacular natural surroundings. Despite all the angst and emotion that punctuated her life, she felt herself begin to relax and soak up the wonders of this unspoiled scene.