“Mel! I have a question for you,” said Mel’s four-year-old brother, Kevin.

“Go ahead,” Mel said.

They were on the beach outside their grandfather’s log cabin. Kevin was perched on Mel’s lap, gobbling a roasted marshmallow. Their campfire crackled. The lake looked purple in the moonlight.

“What’s the most dangerous, most scariest, most fiercest animal?” Kevin asked.

“Here in Glacier?” Mel asked. She swallowed the last bit of her own roasted marshmallow.

Kevin nodded.

“A grizzly bear,” she said. “But only if you surprise it.”

Everyone knew that.

“What animal can beat a grizzly?” he asked.

“Hmmm,” Mel said. She loved her little brother more than anything. But he could drive her crazy with his nonstop questions.

“What about a mountain lion?” Kevin asked.

“I doubt it,” Mel said. She stared into the campfire.

“Wolf?”

“Probably not.”

“Coyote?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I know!” Kevin said excitedly. “A wolverine!”

Those were ferocious animals that looked like little bears but were really a kind of weasel. Mel had no idea if wolverines picked fights with grizzlies.

Luckily, their grandfather was just walking down from the cabin. His work boots crunched on the rocky sand.

“Did somebody say wolverine?” he asked as he sat down next to them. “I once saw a wolverine steal a dead deer from three wolves. The wolverine was no bigger than a fox. But it had no fear. No fear at all.”

Kevin jumped up off Mel’s lap. “Can a wolverine beat a grizzly?”

“No,” Pops said, shaking his head. “Grizzlies are the strongest. But I’ll tell you this. Wolverines are fierce!”

“Like me!” Kevin said with a little growl. He bared his teeth and turned his sticky hands into claws. Then he fell into Pops’s lap in a fit of giggles.

The sound rose up into the starry sky. And at that moment, Mel could pretend that this was just another normal, happy vacation in Glacier.

But of course there was nothing normal about this trip. And Mel was sure she’d never feel happy again. Dad was back home in Wisconsin. He couldn’t miss any more work this year.

And Mom …

Mom was gone. She’d died last December in a car crash.

Mel felt a stabbing pain in her chest, like her heart was cracking apart all over again. She stood up, fighting tears.

“Be right back,” she told Pops and Kevin as she headed to the cabin. She didn’t like anyone to see her cry.

Mel hadn’t wanted to come to Glacier this year. But Pops said they had to keep up their tradition. They always came to Glacier for two weeks in the summer. Mom would want them to be here, Pops said.

Dad agreed. “You love Glacier, Mel,” he reminded her. “I think it’s going to make you feel better.”

By better, Dad meant Mel would want to do something other than sitting alone in her room. That she’d want to see her friends, play softball, go bowling … anything.

But Mel didn’t want to feel better. She didn’t deserve to feel better. Since it was her fault that Mom was gone.

Mel pulled open the door to the cabin as her mind flashed back to that snowy December night.

Her friend Teresa had wanted her to sleep over. Mom said no because the roads were too icy for driving. Mel begged and pleaded. And finally, when the snow had stopped, Mom had agreed to take her.

They pulled out of the driveway. The skies had cleared, and the snow seemed to glow. Mom had started to sing. “Row, row, row your boat …” And Mel started singing along. It was one of their funny traditions, from when Mel was a little girl. Whenever they were alone in the car, they’d sing together. The dumber the song, the better.

They were still singing when Mom rounded a curve. The car hit a sheet of black ice. They spun around and around and around, then skidded off the road.

The driver’s side of the car smashed right into a tree.

It was all over in seconds.

Mel sat down in a kitchen chair. Dad was wrong. Being in Glacier made her heart hurt even more. Because everything here reminded her of Mom. Every sparkle on Lake McDonald. Every breath of the sweet air. The song of every bird that sang from the pine trees.

This had always been Mom’s favorite place — and Mel’s, too. This cabin had been in their family for more than sixty years. Pops and his dad built the cabin back before Glacier was a famous national park packed with people.

Mel looked around. The cabin hadn’t changed much since then. It was still just four small rooms and a porch. It had no electricity, no running water. They slept on cots, read by lantern, and collected rainwater in a big barrel. The toilet was in back, in the outhouse.

But as Mom used to say, who needed a fancy house when your backyard was one million acres of Rocky Mountain wilderness?

Look in any direction in Glacier Park, and you’d see something that made your eyes pop open wider — a turquoise lake, a waterfall tumbling down a cliff, ice-covered mountains soaring into the sky.

Mel wished she was back home in Wisconsin, where she could close the door, turn out the lights, and try to forget.

“Mel!” Kevin bellowed. “Pops is going to tell another story! Come on!”

Mel took a deep breath and headed back outside. She didn’t want to upset Kevin.

“Okay,” Pops said. “I have a story about an animal way more frightening than a wolverine. To me, anyway. Because one of these nasty critters attacked me one night.”

Kevin’s eyes grew wide. He had climbed back up on Mel’s lap.

“Tell us, Pops!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Pops said, pretending to change his mind. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“I am brave, Pops! I am very, very brave!” Kevin exclaimed.

Mel cracked a smile and held Kevin a little tighter. What would she do without her loud, bossy pest of a brother?

“All right,” Pops said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”