For the brave little girl who called 9-1-1

      and followed all my CPR instructions despite her fear.

      Your grandpa will always be your guardian angel.

      Chapter One

      Drew crouched at the carved wooden sign with white-painted letters and clapped a hand on his son’s slight shoulder, warm from the sun. “What’s that say, pal?”

      Ian studied the words, his bottom lip jutting out in concentration. The expression always reminded Drew of Gina. “Um … Deer Track Trailhead.” He squinched his nose at his dad. “That’s hard to say.”

      “Yeah, it’s a tongue twister—” Drew stood, then ruffled Ian’s golden hair “—but easy to remember, right? Deer Track?”

      “Yep,” Ian said. “Deers make tracks.”

      “That’s a good way to think of it.” Drew angled his chin down. “You won’t forget if you repeat the name in your head three times, just like I taught you.”

      Ian squinted up at him and smiled. “I already did.”

      “Good boy.” Drew lifted one arm and glanced at his wristwatch. “Ready for synchronization?”

      Ian mimicked his father’s action, focused on his plastic digital superhero watch. “Mine says 11:11 a.m.”

      Drew nodded once. “Mine, too.”

      “Okay, so we started hiking from the Deer Track Trailhead,” Ian enunciated carefully, “at 11:11 a.m. You remember, too, Daddy. Just in case.”

      Drew smiled down at his son, his heart swelling. “That’s right. The Kimball men can never be too prepared. You have your water bottle and energy bar?”

      “It’s all in here.” Ian hooked his thumbs beneath the shoulder straps of his Batman backpack. He was in the midst of an extended superhero worship phase. Nothing could harm a superhero, after all. “And the special card I made for Mommy’s in here, too.”

      It took all of Drew’s will to keep the soulcutting pain out of his expression. “That’s my little man.”

      “I don’t forget stuff.”

      “No, you sure don’t. Let’s get started. We have a long day ahead of us.” Drew blinked up at the crackling sun. “Looks like it’s going to be a hot one.”

      Ian slipped his hand into his father’s. “Did you used to hike here when you were little, Daddy?”

      “I did.” Boy, that had been a lifetime ago. “With your grandpa.”

      “Cool,” Ian said.

      Their hiking boots crunched softly on the packed dirt as they ascended the path through the Rockies. All around them, summer wildflowers bloomed with riotous, multicolored abandon, and the soft breeze through the evergreens sang on the air like angels’ whispers. Birds chattered in the trees, and the occasional chipmunk darted through the underbrush. In a word? Peaceful. And heartbreaking, but that was two words. This ritual, on this particular day—the anniversary of Gina’s death—might be excruciating for Drew, but it was important.

      For Ian.

      Drew set aside his private pain and sucked it up.

      Ian peered up at the steep climb ahead of them. “I really think we’ll be closer to her at the top of the mountain, Daddy.” His voice had gone pensive, albeit determined.

      After a moment to school his emotions, Drew smiled tightly at Ian. “Of course we will,” he said, in a gentle tone. He felt the sudden need to fill up the silence with words that might make the whole thing easier. “See those clouds?” He pointed to a blindingly white thunderhead hanging in the deep turquoise Colorado sky.

      “Yeah?”

      “That’s