My One and Only(32)

Despite my being far behind the other riders, it still felt as if a line connected Nick and me. That unpleasant buzz of electricity hadn’t stopped humming, and even though I couldn’t see my ex-husband at the moment, I felt as if I knew exactly where he was.

I was good at staying in control; you had to be, if you worked in my profession. You got used to people spewing bile or sobbing or hating you. The worst thing you could do was react. It was just harder than I expected, canceling out Nick. Even Dennis’s good-looking, brawny presence wasn’t helping on that front, and the significance of this wasn’t lost on me.

The beauty of the forest began to seep into my prickly soul. Sunlight cut in golden shafts through the thickening cedars and hemlocks, and the woods took on an otherworldly, greenish hue. Birds flitted and hopped in the branches. Their songs were so different from the throaty cries of the gulls or the rasping calls and clatter of the crows back home. A woodpecker drilled into a dead branch, and in the distance, I heard a strange, flutelike trilling overlaid with what sounded like the bark of a small dog. Too bad Coco had to stay behind at the lodge. She would’ve loved to trot off and investigate. And the smell here! The rich, sharp scent of cedar thickened as we plodded along, and I found myself gulping in great breaths.

God’s country. I was almost glad I was here.

Then Bob did an odd little twirl, nearly unseating me, and faced backward on the trail. “Whoa, big guy!” I said, clutching the saddle horn. Bob made a funny noise—blowing hard through his nostrils—and began backing up, off the trail and into the woods, jerking his head up and down. “Bob! Stop, buddy!” It was as if he was having a seizure or something, shaking and jerking. “Bob? We’re not supposed to—oh, crotch.” All the breath left my lungs in a rush.

About thirty yards behind me, where we’d been just a moment before, right in the middle of the trail, was a bear. A big bear. A grizzly on all fours, looking at his next lunch.

My limbs turned to water. “Oh, no, no, no,” I breathed raggedly, clutching the saddle horn as Bob continued to back further off the trail. “Go away, bear, please, please, please. We’re…um…way too…big…too big to eat…oh, crap.”

Bob came to an abrupt stop. My hair snagged on a branch, pulling hard, and I squeaked in pain, grabbing the lock of hair before it was torn right out. I risked a painful glance behind me…seven or eight tightly knit cedars in a little grove, almost a shelter. Or a trap. Forward was the bear…backward was a wall of cedar.

Swallowing convulsively, I tugged at my hair—damn it! It was really caught. If Bob bolted, I’d be out a fair chunk. Not that I’d mind, of course, it certainly beat being eaten alive. Could I climb the tree? Should I try it? Bears could climb, right? Oh, this day just got suckier and suckier!

Bob seemed to agree. He gave a high-pitched wheeze, then shook violently, as in a death spasm or something, what did I know? “Don’t die on me, Bob! Now is not the time! Calm down! It’s just a…just a grizzly bear.” My voice was tight with panic.

The bear stood there on all fours, shaggy and fricking huge. Even from this distance, I could see its long, gleaming claws. Razor sharp, no doubt. “Not good, not good, not good,” I whispered. My heart pounded so hard and fast I thought I might faint. Which would not advance the case of my survival. I took a breath, trying to think.

Okay. So. What does one do when a grizzly is contemplating your death? Flee? Fleeing sounded good…a horse could probably outrun a grizzly. Right? Or not? Why did I have the oldest horse in America? Why wasn’t Seabiscuit my horse instead? But maybe this was good…after all, maybe I only had to outrun Bob. How about yelling? Should I yell? Yes! I should yell.

“Help!” I peeped, my vocal cords somewhat paralyzed. “Brianna!” Right. Too busy trying to seduce my boyfriend to save me. “Dennis!” Much better—firefighter, big, strong, used to saving people. “Den? Help! Dad? Somebody help me!”

Only the bear seemed to hear. It raised its nose and sniffed. Note to self—shut up. Already, images rolled through my head—my lifeless, torn body dragged off to a den where adorable cubs would gnaw on my carcass. My skull being found by a troop of Boy Scouts, who would deem the discovery wicked cool.

Bob, as if sensing my train of thought, gave a little buck, yanking my hair so hard tears came to my eyes. I clutched the saddle horn. “Stop it!” I hissed. “Don’t you dare dump me!”

Should I get off the horse? No. Or yes? I had no idea! Plus, my hair was still tangled in the branch. I really couldn’t get off Bob. What had Brianna said? In case of grizzly sighting, don’t panic. Great. Thank you so much for the detailed information, Brianna!

And then, blessedly, I heard hoofbeats. Slow hoofbeats, granted…no one was exactly charging to my rescue. The bear turned slightly, sniffing once more, and all the saliva in my mouth dried up. It. Was. Enormous.

“Stop! Grizzly ahead!” I called weakly. “Be careful!”

“Harper, where the hell—holy crap, that thing is f**king huge.”

It was Nick, coming down the path on Satan. And thank God he was here, ex-husband or not! He tugged on the horse’s reins, and the horse froze obediently, Satan’s ears were pricked; he was alert and clearly on edge, but he wasn’t moaning in terror, as was Bob.

“Harper? Where are you, baby?” Nick’s voice was calm, though why he sounded calm, I had no idea. He was a New Yorker, for God’s sake, not exactly a mountain man.