Moonlight Road (Virgin River #11)(35)

“Yeah. We better get him outta there.” They pried off the screen and he threw his backpack and machete through the window. Then he leaped at the opening, got his arms locked on the bottom sill, pulled himself up and somersaulted right into the bedroom.

Erin got out of his way. The second he was sitting on the floor, she closed the window and the shutters. Then she crossed her arms over her chest. “Great. Now we’re both held hostage in the bedroom.”

“How long has he been out there?” Aiden asked, getting to his feet.

“I don’t know. Half an hour?” There was another crash and again she winced. “He’s obviously done eating and is busy tearing up the place. I swear to God, if he shits on my Aubusson carpet, I’ll kill him with my bare hands!”

Aiden couldn’t help but laugh as he dug around in his backpack. He pulled out what looked like a large can of hair spray or a small fire extinguisher. “Do you have anything in here that would make a loud noise, kind of like a metal spoon clanging inside an aluminum soup pot?”

“Huh?”

“They don’t like that. This is repellent. A little clanging and some repellent and they usually just run off.”

“Usually?”

“What are the options? I’ve been thinking about that beer all week.”

“I know you have easier ways to get a beer.” She sneered.

“You’re right. Should I take my repellent, climb back out the window and leave you here to rot? You can sit in your bedroom until someone passes by and smells your decomposing body. Or—you can find me something that clangs!”

“I don’t have anything in here that clangs!”

Aiden looked around, doing a three-sixty of the bedroom. His eyes stopped in the corner. He went over to a fancy potted tree; he opened the shutters and window, dumped a three-foot tree upside down out the window and banged the empty pot on the side of the house to get rid of the excess dirt.

“Hey!” she yelled. “That’s brass!”

He walked toward the bedroom door with his arsenal in hand—brass pot and tall can of repellent. “Brass, brass, could save your ass…” He pushed the chest away from the door. “Erin, listen to me. Do not scream. It’s a black bear and I didn’t see a cub, so it should just run off. But don’t scream and get it riled up. It could make him or her feel threatened.”

“I already screamed at it,” she informed him. “He didn’t run off! Maybe he doesn’t know he’s a black bear!”

“Just stay in the bedroom. Quietly.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to step into the next room and clang. If he comes at me I’m going to spray his eyes with this pepper spray. Then I’m going to have a beer.”

“Oh God…”

“Yeah, praying works…” He opened the door, looking into the room. “Oh, good,” he said quietly.

The bear was exiting the house through the opened French doors. On the one hand it was probably best to just let him go, but on the other—would he remember where to find the food? Aiden hated to think of Erin lounging in her hammock, dozing, while a bear rummaged around in her house. But Aiden didn’t have a lot of experience with bears. He’d have to ask someone.

He let the bear lumber off. He wasn’t a very big bear—six feet. Had to be a guy—in spring and summer the females came with at least one cub, unless she was a teenager and hadn’t mated yet. Aiden followed slowly, cautiously. He got all the way to the deck in time to see the furry guy disappear into the woods. Then he put his pot and can of repellent on the table, picked up Erin’s glass of tea and her book and closed the French doors. He looked curiously at the book, lifting one eyebrow.

Then he rescued the charred cookies and turned off the oven.

“Is it safe?” he heard from within the house.

“Well, unless you wanted a cookie. There were some casualties.”

“The bear?”

“His work here was done,” Aiden said. “He was alone and he’s gone.”

Erin walked into the great room. She looked around—the giant bowl she’d used to mix the cookie batter was in pieces on the floor, a chair was turned over, a cookie sheet was across the room on the floor. The three crashes were minor losses and the bear was gone.

“I’m getting the hell out of here,” she muttered.

Aiden stooped to pick up the pieces of broken ceramic bowl. He dumped them in the trash. No mess there. The bear had cleaned it thoroughly. “You don’t have to.” He picked up her paperback. “I rescued your dirty book,” he said with a smile.

“It’s not dirty!”

“Oh? Too bad. It looks pretty good.”

“It’s just a…a…women’s book…you know…”

He pulled a couple of beers out of the refrigerator. He took the tops off two bottles and handed her one. “I’d like to sit out on your deck with this,” he said. “Especially since I walked ten miles to get here today and I know I’m not wearing your fragrance, but under the circumstances, maybe we’ll just stay in. What do you say?”

“I’m getting the hell out of here!” But she took the beer; then she took a slug.

“It’ll be okay, Erin,” he said softly. “He’s gone. I’ll leave you the repellent. They don’t have grizzlies around here. Black bears will usually run off unless you’re between a mother and cub. Apparently they like chocolate-chip cookies. I don’t suppose you tucked any away before Yogi came in?”