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  Even Bridget was having fun and not giving Matt a hard time.

  So what was Matt’s problem?

  Why wasn’t he enjoying himself?

  Mount Kit.

  Mount Kit was his problem.

  The only thing was, Matt wasn’t sure if he was unhappy because he couldn’t go, because his friends were going, or because he’d been asked to lie about it. Or maybe, if he was being honest with himself, it was because of all the above.

  Scout sniffed his way back toward Matt. He got two feet away and, without any warning, shook his whole body, flinging the mud off his fur and right onto Matt.

  “Ugh, Scout! What’d you do that for?” Matt said with a laugh. He wiped the mud from his face and held out a soil-covered hand to the dog. “Well, I can’t get any muddier, so you may as well come here.” Scout loped over, and Matt wrapped an arm around the long-limbed dog, pulling him in for a hug and a scratch on the belly.

  Scout snuffled Matt’s ear, panting hot breath on his face. Matt rubbed his nose on Scout’s snout, and Scout gave him one giant lick from chin to forehead before wandering over to Matt’s mom.

  Now Matt was covered in mud and dog slobber. “Mmmm, delicious,” he said.

  Matt returned to digging and dropping seedlings into the ground. As he worked, his mind wandered back to his friends. He pictured them going off-trail on a 10,000-foot peak while their parents thought they were at a sleepover.

  A weird sensation crept up the back of his neck.

  Something wasn’t quite right.

  Dev said he’d hiked the trail a gazillion times before. He said it was hard but safe. But he’d also been excited—like it was a really big deal. If it was that big a deal and Dev, Amaiya, and Curtis didn’t want to tell their parents about it . . . it could only add up to one thing: It had to be dangerous.

  And if that was the case, then why were they so determined to ignore the risk and climb Mount Kit—and so ready to lie to their own parents? Matt tried to ignore his next thought, but it hovered around him like an unwelcome guest: Was this a side of his new friends that he hadn’t seen before?

  If so, Matt didn’t really like it.

  And if his friends weren’t who he thought they were, then he was right back where he started every time he moved to a new place: friendless and alone. What was the point of staying in Silver Valley if he was never going to be able to make—and keep—real friends?

  “Let’s double-time it, guys,” Matt’s mom said. Bridget let out an exaggerated sigh as she dragged a massive bag of mulch across the yard.

  Matt tried to push Dev, Amaiya, Curtis, and the towering vision of Mount Kit out of his head.

  “Let’s get this done so I can go pack, people,” Bridget said. “I have a plane to catch in the morning.”

  “Watch out, Washington, D.C.!” Matt teased. “Here comes Silver Valley’s Model U.N. team to take the town by storm.”

  “Hey!” Bridget smacked him on the arm. “Model U.N. is hard work!”

  “Oh, Matt, honey,” his mom interrupted them, looking at her phone, “can you do me a huge favor?”

  Matt squinted at his mom in the low, late-afternoon sunlight. She had a weird look on her face that he couldn’t place. She looked like she was . . . trying not to smile? He was confused.

  “Sure, Mom. What do you need?”

  “Could you go to the garage and get me another bag of soil, please?” She pointed over his shoulder.

  With a nod, Matt stood up and wiped the dirt from his hands. He turned and took one step toward the garage, but something in the corner of his eye made him jump.

  Matt froze. A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind in a millisecond. There was someone standing in their yard. He hadn’t heard anyone come in. Had someone snuck in? Wait—is that . . . ? Goosebumps sprouted on Matt’s arms and a huge smile broke out on his face.

  “No way!” Matt cried.

  “Aaaaaaah!” Bridget squealed.

  “DAD!” they shouted in unison.

  There, standing by the garage, was Matt’s dad. He dropped his camo-patterned duffel bag to the ground and opened his arms wide. Matt and Bridget ran to him, and he wrapped them in a gigantic hug.

  “What are you doing here?” Matt said into his dad’s shirt. “I thought you weren’t coming home for a couple more weeks.” He breathed in the familiar smell—a mixture of military-issued laundry soap and faraway places. His dad had been deployed for months, but that was nothing new. Matt was used to him being gone. When you grew up with military parents, you accepted that you were going to be separated from them . . . a lot. It was hard, but it was just part of their lives, like his dad’s corny jokes or his mom’s amazing pancake recipe.

  But living with the constant separation meant that this feeling—this incredible joy when their family was complete, even for a moment—never got old.

  “Early homecoming, Matt-o.” His dad squeezed them so hard Matt could barely breathe—but he didn’t care. “Couldn’t wait any longer to get back to you two.”

  “We missed you so much, Dad.” Bridget’s voice was muffled.

  Matt’s mom joined the hug, and then Matt felt a firm nudging at his left knee. Scout wriggled his way into the center of the group, and with a laugh, everyone made room to let him in. Scout raised himself up on his back legs and planted his front paws on Matt’s dad’s stomach.

  “You must be Scout,” Matt’s dad said.

  “Scout, meet Dad,” Matt said.

  “So, you’re the dog who saved my kids’ lives, huh?” Matt’s dad ran a hand over Scout’s soft head. “Thank you.” In response, Scout sniffed his arm from fingertips to elbow and back again. Then—as if he had given Matt’s dad the seal of approval—he dropped back onto all fours.

  Matt’s dad took Matt by the shoulders and held him at arm’s length. “Look at you, kiddo.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head in amazement.

  “Let me guess—I’ve grown, right?” It was true that Matt was practically up to his dad’s shoulders this time.

  His dad put a hand on Matt’s head and ruffled his dark hair. “I can’t wait for you to show me the town, pal,” he said.

  Matt studied his dad’s tan face, which everyone always told him looked exactly like his own. His dad had bags under his eyes and at least a two-day stubble. His buzz-cut brown hair was dusty. He’d probably been traveling for twenty-four hours straight just to get home. He was clearly exhausted, but that didn’t stop Matt from wanting to tell him a dozen things at once.

  It was hard to believe that just a minute earlier, Matt had been scooping mulch. Now, all of a sudden, his mind was spinning with plans for all the fishing, camping, and hiking he and his dad were going to do together, just the two of them.

  Matt was ready to throw on a pack so they could hit the trail right that moment, but he knew the routine: His dad needed some time and space to settle back into the rhythm of the household. After some deployments, it was a few days. After others, it was a few weeks.

  But soon enough, there would be kayaking on the Truckee River. And jumping off the cliff into the watering hole at the ravine. And rock climbing, of course. Maybe even at Howler’s Peak, which was the hardest route Matt had ever tried—and finished.

  Matt’s heart felt like it would burst. Thoughts of his friends on Mount Kit were far from his mind. All he could think about was one thing: His dad was home.

  4

  SCOUT HUNG HIS HEAD OUT OF the car window, taking in the passing landscape, his mouth wide open. They were on their way to the airport to drop off Bridget.

  “Ow! Scout, you’re killing me,” Matt grunted, trying unsuccessfully to shift the dog’s rump off his lap and onto the seat. But Scout was happy right where he was and had no intention of moving.

  Matt settled in for the ride.

  “Seems like he might have a stubborn streak.” Matt’s dad eyed them both in the rearview mirror. “At least he fits right into the family.”

  “They’re a per
fect team,” Bridget said tartly from the front seat, without looking up from her phone.

  “Ha,” Matt snorted.

  It was just the three of them in the car. Matt’s mom had stayed home to catch up on some work—and to give Matt and Bridget some one-on-one time with their dad.

  “How long will you be in D.C., again, Bridge?” Matt’s dad asked. “Sorry, it’ll take me a few days to get back in the swing of things.”

  “It’s okay, Dad.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I’ll be gone for three days. But now I’m bummed I’m leaving.”

  “I’ll be here when you get back.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

  It didn’t even seem real to Matt that his dad was right there, in the driver’s seat of his truck, doing normal dad things. That was the other nice part about coming home after a long deployment: Even the most boring tasks, like taking his sister to the airport together, were really fun.

  They pulled up to the curb at the terminal. Six kids on Bridget’s Model U.N. team clustered together, holding their bags and looking excited. A chaperone stood beside them with a clipboard.

  Bridget opened the door, and a blast of hot, dry air filled the car. The temperature had spiked about ten degrees in the past week. That morning, the sky was a flat gray. There seemed to be a layer of cloud cover keeping the heat in, like a blanket draped over an oven. It was just more strange Nevada weather, which Matt was still getting used to.

  “Still not as hot as Afghanistan,” Matt’s dad said. Matt and Bridget rolled their eyes in unison.

  “We know, Dad!”

  “Love you, honey,” he said. “Text me when you land.”

  “Love you, Dad. So happy you’re back!” Bridget got out and shut the passenger door behind her. Matt and Scout hopped out of the back to help Bridget with her bag. Matt held on to Scout’s leash and stood next to his sister.

  “Kick some Model U.N. butt,” he said. “Or whatever you do.”

  “I’ll try.” The smile fell from her face. “Hey, Matt,” she said quietly, “you know how it always takes Dad some time to settle back in?”

  He nodded.

  “I think this time might be harder than usual,” she went on. “I overheard him talking to Mom last night. He feels really bad that he wasn’t here during the flood.”

  “But that’s not his fault—” Matt started.

  “I know. But he’s . . . you know . . . Dad.”

  Matt nodded. “Okay. I got you.”

  “Come on, Bridget!” one of her friends called out. “We have to get through security.”

  “Coming!” She gave Matt a hug and patted Scout on the head. “Look out for each other, would you? And please—can you two try to stay out of trouble?”

  “We’ll do our best,” Matt said, flashing her his biggest smile.

  “That is not reassuring.” Bridget spun on her heel and headed over to her friends. Matt let Scout hop into the back of the truck, then climbed into the front seat.

  His dad steered the truck onto the highway and scanned the sprawling, dusty landscape all around them. “It sure is pretty around here.”

  “Yeah,” Matt agreed. He thought the vistas in Silver Valley were like stacked stripes of color—beige and tan dirt on the bottom, green shrubs and grasses next, then rusty brown mountains in the distance. Usually it was all capped off with a brilliant swath of bright blue sky, though today it was gray.

  As they drove, Matt studied his dad’s profile carefully. He thought about what Bridget had said—that this time something was different. Matt had been missing his dad more than ever during this deployment. He hadn’t stopped to think about how hard it might have been for his dad too.

  With his eyes still on the road ahead, Matt’s dad grinned. “Whatcha thinking about, Matt-o?”

  “Oh—uh, nothing. It’s really great to have you back, that’s all.”

  “Uh-huh.” His dad reached over and lightly punched Matt on the shoulder. “So. Tell me everything.”

  Matt took a deep breath, and the words started pouring out. “I can’t wait to take you out on the Truckee River, Dad. It’s so awesome to kayak there. And then we’ve got to go rock climbing together! I have to show you how I can climb Howler’s Peak. Maybe you’ll even climb it with me. My friend Dev is amazing—he can totally show you the basics. Then there’s the ravine, the place where you can jump from the rocks into the water, but you have to climb up first . . .” The words tripped over one another as Matt went on, blurting out every detail he could about Silver Valley, his school, and his new friends. “Scout can come with us wherever we go. He’s really well trained now . . .”

  At the sound of his name, Scout woofed excitedly from the back seat.

  Matt’s dad glanced at the dog in the rearview mirror and laughed. Matt was happy to see the smile lines at the corner of his dad’s eyes spread like little sunbursts. Maybe Bridget was wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t upset at all.

  Maybe everything was fine.

  “Actually we’re going to drive right by the ravine.” Matt pointed out the window.

  “Well, let’s go check it out,” his dad said, crossing the highway to take the next exit. “Can you get us there?”

  “Sure!”

  “So, the ravine,” his dad said casually. “That the one you fell into the first time you were there?”

  Even though it had happened months earlier, Matt felt his cheeks get hot with embarrassment all over again. It was the same day he’d met Dev, Amaiya, and Curtis for the first time. The memory of flying off the rocks and into the water . . . by accident . . . in front of them and a dozen other kids still stung as much as his belly flop.

  The thought of his three friends made Matt feel a little weird. He found himself scanning the seemingly endless mountain range in the distance, which spread as far as he could see. Its many peaks jutted into the sky, with one noticeably taller than the rest.

  On a hunch, Matt pulled out his phone and opened the map app.

  The tallest mountain was just the one he thought it might be: Mount Kit.

  He squinted, shielding his eyes against the flat bright light of the cloud cover, as if he would be able to spot the tiny dots of his friends trekking up the side.

  The truck hugged a curve that pulled them away from the mountain, and it was gone from Matt’s line of vision.

  “Ahem.” Matt’s dad cleared his throat. “You were going to tell me about the ravine?”

  “Oh, right!” Matt pushed away thoughts of his friends. “How about I just show you when we get there?”

  It was so hot out that it felt like the whole world had slowed down. The heat hung in the air around them, and they were quiet on the half-mile hike to the ravine. Their feet crunched on the pebbly path.

  Scout ran ahead of them in his slightly lopsided, jaunty gait, sniffing at the shrubs and grasses lining the way. He was relaxed and happy-go-lucky from snout to tail, like a goofy kid who was having too much fun.

  The rocks that studded the land around them looked like giant stone slabs basking in the sun. An animal rustled in the bushes, and Scout dropped into a crouch and froze. One of his ears spun forward, while the other flicked toward the sound. His nose twitched as he waited.

  A lizard scuttled across the path. Scout hopped up and stood tall, his head cocked to the side, his ears flopped forward, and his eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. He followed the creature with his eyes. He was about to pounce on the reptile when Matt commanded, “Scout, sit!” Instantaneously, Scout sat. “Stay.” Scout didn’t budge, even as the lizard scurried right between his front paws and zipped away.

  “Wow!” Matt’s dad said. “Scout is so well trained. Did you teach him that?”

  Matt shrugged. “I mean, he was a great dog already. But maybe I trained him a little once he got here . . .”

  His dad raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought so.”

  Scout whined and looked over his shoulder at them, eager to be released from his stay command.

  “Okay, S
cout,” Matt said. Scout hopped to his feet and started walking again. Matt and his dad followed closely behind.

  “Show me what else he can do,” his dad said.

  “Scout, stop.” Scout stopped. Matt turned to his dad, then looked down the trail and spotted a boulder about thirty yards ahead. “See that boulder right there—the one with the big bump on it?”

  “I see it.” His dad gave him a confused look.

  “Scout.” Scout looked up at him expectantly. Matt raised his hand and pointed toward the boulder. “Go out.” Scout followed Matt’s hand and gaze and walked steadily—purposefully—toward the boulder. He sniffed the air and ground as he moved, taking in the tens of thousands of scents floating around them at that very moment—compared to the handful that Matt and his dad could smell.

  Just as Scout was a foot or two away from his destination, Matt whispered to his dad, “Watch this.” He turned to Scout again. “Scout, stop!” Scout stopped in front of the boulder, his paw suspended in midair. “Good job.” Scout turned back to look at them, waiting for another command.

  Matt’s dad whistled long and slow. “That,” he said, “was impressive. Scout’s so precise.”

  Matt was starting to get excited. Another idea popped into his head. He snatched the baseball cap off his dad’s head. “Watch this!”

  “Hey!” Matt’s dad laughed. “I need that!”

  Matt jogged up the path. He stopped in front of Scout and held the hat under his snout. Scout dug his nose into every inch of it, sniffing and snorting, clearing his nostrils and sniffing some more. It was almost like he was drinking in the scent, absorbing it into his body.

  “Ready?” Matt asked. Scout kept his eyes locked on Matt and gave an eager snort. “Okay, buddy. Stay.” Matt disappeared around a bend and stuffed the cap under a large round boulder.

  Matt came back down the trail and rejoined his dad and his dog. “Scout,” he said. Matt held Scout’s gaze while the dog began to whimper and swipe at the ground with his left paw. When Scout was practically bursting with anticipation, Matt cried, “Search!”