Echo smiled. “Maybe I’m the one who should grow up. I used to think he’d come home and I’d be here, and he’d just sorta forget about what happened. But maybe I’m the one holding on to something that I should let go of.”

Dodge was out on the rink, playing defense, a formidable opponent to the motley crew who tried to get the puck past him. He slammed Goodwin into the boards, although admittedly, not with the force he had when they were kids. They scrabbled for the puck.

“I’m going over to talk to Hank,” Echo said.

“You should stay and watch practice.”

“Say hi to Winter for me.”

She climbed down and didn’t look at the rink as she headed over to the Fish and Game office.

Hank wasn’t there, but his assistant was, a girl named Clementine, with long black hair and Native blood in her features.

“Hey. Has my dad been in?” Echo asked. “He wanted to talk to Hank.”

“Yeah. They went over to the Starlight with Ace Mulligan for lunch.”

Her father was probably bending Hank’s ear about the need for more fish and wildlife enforcement, and most particularly a scrutiny of Idaho’s so-called guiding license. She didn’t disagree.

“Has Peyton checked in?” she asked. “I think she is still in the bush, but Granite came home alone yesterday, so I’m a little worried.”

Clementine walked into Hank’s office, looked at a chart. “He’s got her pinned here as out, and she’s listed as green, so it doesn’t look like anything’s amiss.”

Hank kept track of all his rangers’ whereabouts when they traveled the bush. No doubt he’d checked in with her.

So Echo wouldn’t worry either. She checked the guiding schedule and signed up for a couple trips later in the month. She also checked the weather report—a storm was headed down from the mountains.

And then, just because, she decided to send a text to Peyton on the sat phone. She was for sure out of voice range by now, but she could text back.

The smell of pizza had invaded the office, and by the time she finished, her stomach demanded satisfaction. Maybe she’d just duck into the Starlight, grab a piece of pizza, and talk to Hank herself.

Quite a few pickups had pulled up in front of the place as she went inside.

And immediately, she realized why.

Levi and Goodwin Starr were feeding the hockey team who’d shown up for practice.

The tiny pizza joint was packed. When Levi took it over, he’d gutted the small house, replanked the wooden floor, washed the paneling, and shoved together long yellow tables and stools down the center of the room for community dining. A purple sign over the back of the long bar listed the specials, and the regular menu was chalked on the opposite wall.