Moonlight Road (Virgin River #11)(34)

“Well, you better find out, Jack. Talk to her.”

“Brie, she’s not exactly talking to me. She’s waiting for me to come around. When I bring the subject up, she just asks me to keep an open mind. She wants me to discuss my reservations with John Stone.”

“Then talk to John. But don’t let this thing fester between you. I’m dangerously close to getting in the middle of it, and I don’t want to be there.”

Out of sheer boredom, Erin decided to bake chocolate-chip cookies. She thought if she had them on hand and Aiden showed up, she could give him some to share with his friend Art. She could also freeze a bunch—Marcie and Ian were planning to come up for the next long weekend and Marcie loved chocolate-chip cookies.

June was growing old, she was on her fourth week in the cabin and she had stacked all the inner-growth books in a corner to be given away. On the deck beside her chaise where she relaxed between cookie batches was a tall glass of tea and a paperback with a pair of long, shapely female legs on the cover and a provocative title. Marcie was right about one thing—the damn book totally had her! Nothing like seduction to totally seduce her. She smiled to herself—she might just be learning this relaxation thing.

She had a huge bowl of cookie dough on the counter and when the timer went off, she went inside to scrape hot cookies off the cookie sheet onto the counter and make another batch. She inhaled deeply; the aroma was heavenly. Erin had a pretty healthy sweet tooth that she kept under control, but there was absolutely nothing quite as alluring as that fresh-cookie smell. After sliding a sheet of cookies into the oven, she dashed into the bathroom. Ah, how fantastic that she wasn’t going to the loo out back! Besides, it was a spectacular bathroom for a cabin and she was proud of it.

Before she came out, she heard a noise and wondered if a hearty breeze was blowing things around in the kitchen. There was a bad smell. It almost hinted at a plumbing problem. Or perhaps that breeze had picked up a bit of garbage on its way through the French doors. When she came out of the bathroom she saw it was not a breeze.

It was a bear.

It was a very large bear—and he was eating her cookies and cookie dough, scooping it up with hands that sported long, dangerous claws.

She yelped in surprise and the bear lifted his head out of the bowl and it sounded like he belched. That’s when Erin screamed.

She ran back into the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it. Then she dashed through the adjoining door to the bedroom and slammed that door. To be safe, she pushed the chest from the end of her bed up against the bedroom door. Then she closed the door that joined the bath to the bedroom and pushed her bureau in front of it. That was it—all the movable furniture she had. And it wasn’t all that heavy.

Then she sat on the foot of her bed and said, “Fuck.”

She hadn’t even considered this possibility—a bear. Marcie had told her a story about a mountain lion trapping her in the outhouse. From that point on, Marcie had carried the iron skillet with her whenever she was outside. For that reason, Erin always had that big skillet with her. But while Marcie was just the type to plaster a threatening wild animal in the head with a skillet, Erin was more the type to squeal and run.

She remembered she had cookies in the oven. Oh, this is rich, she thought. The cabin is going to burn down and me with it. Hopefully the bear dies first. Maybe I can get away before it’s all one big ash.

She did a mental inventory; there was only one phone—a cordless that was on its base in the kitchen. The computer was actually running—and it was out there, too. If her car keys were in the bedroom, she could climb out the window and make a dash for the SUV, but of course the keys were in their assigned place, on the hook by the door. Erin was very well organized and tidy—a place for everything and everything in its place.

There was a crash and she winced. She jumped off the end of the bed and started for the door to scream at the damn bear. This was a terrific lesson for Erin—for just a moment she was more concerned about the bear trashing the place than about it mauling her or burning the cabin down.

She forced herself to sit down. Then she flopped back on the bed. “I hate my life,” she said out loud. “If I live through this I’m going home and back to work and I’m never doing anything like this again.” There was another crash. Oh, that sounded like something very expensive. She lay there in misery for a long time. She could hear him moving around out there.

There was a little tapping at her bedroom window. She sat up and listened. Yes, a very light tapping. Would a nine-foot-tall black bear high on chocolate tap at the window? Wouldn’t he just tear off the door and eat her? She crept quietly and carefully to the window and peered through the tiniest slit.

And saw green eyes and a red beard.

She opened the shutters and the window. “Aiden!”

“Hi,” he said. “There’s a bear in the kitchen.”

“Run, Aiden! Run!”

“I’m going to come in, but you have to give me a hand. Help me take off the screen, then I’m going to throw my stuff inside and climb in. You might have to pull me—this window’s kinda high.”

“Why?” she asked, backing away a little.

He shrugged. “Well, first of all, there’s smoke coming from the kitchen. And I was thinking about a beer.”

“There’s a bear in the kitchen!” she whispered furiously.