My One and Only(33)

“Nick! We’re over here! My horse is stuck! And my hair is caught.”

Nick tore his eyes off the bear and looked in my direction. “Try not to panic,” he said.

“I’m not panicking. I’m just terrified.”

“Yeah. Me, too. Um…what’s the plan here?”

“I don’t know!” I returned. “I saw my first bear yesterday! You don’t have a gun, do you?”

Somehow, this made Nick laugh. “Well, sorry to say I left my Luger at home. Maybe I should I throw a stick at it or something?”

“No! Cripes, don’t anger it, Nick! You’d think that stupid guide would do more than flirt with my boyfriend.” Bob gave another shudder of fear. One of his front legs buckled, and my hair yanked on the branch. “Oh, great! My horse is about to keel over, Nick.” I swallowed. “I’m really scared.” Bob managed to right himself.

“Okay, I’m coming. Hang in there.” Slowly, without taking his eyes off the bear, Nick leaned the reins against his horse’s neck and gave him a gentle nudge. “Come on, Satan,” he murmured, and the horse, probably defying every natural instinct, obeyed. My heart squeezed. Nick was coming, and God bless him for it. Even if this meant the four of us—Nick, Bob, Satan and yours truly—were a juicier target, maybe there was strength in numbers.

The bear snuffled at the ground but otherwise didn’t move, which was good and bad—on the one hand, it wasn’t leaving, but on the other, it wasn’t chomping on our femurs, either. Bob gave another high-pitched wheeze, and the bear’s head swiveled back at us.

“Oh, crotch. Crotchety crotch crotch,” I said, sucking in a shaking breath.

“Try to stay calm,” Nick said. He was right next to me now.

“Okay, Nick. It’s just a grizzly bear, right? And they never hurt anyone. Those five-inch claws are for show only—”

“Harper, shut it. And hey. Don’t be ungrateful. I didn’t have to come back for you, you know.”

I looked at him. There was something about being around Nick that reduced me to a seventh-grade smart-ass…even with a grizzly bear staring us down. Nick, on the other hand, looked…ironic. One eyebrow was raised, and a little smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “True,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Much better. Here. Let me untangle your hair, at least. If we need to run, we can’t have you stuck.”

“I don’t think Bob’s up for running,” I said.

“Then you’ll take my horse.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay here and whittle a sword and kill the bear or, if that doesn’t work, I’ll just be eaten alive, happily sacrificing my life for yours.” He gave me a look. “Or I’ll just stay on the horse and you can sit behind me. Satan can hold two, I’m sure.”

“Oh, so you’re a cowboy now? I wasn’t aware that architects were also masters of horseflesh. You and Satan BFFs now? Practiced your stunt-riding this morning?”

“My dad gave me a few lessons.”

“When? When you were six?”

“Well, you know, Harper, maybe we should just stay here and bicker until the bear can’t stand it anymore and kills us both. Would that make you happy?”

He moved Satan closer to my shuddering steed, reached over and began working on the task at hand, tugging my hair gently. His body blocked my view of the grizzly, which worried me, as neither of us could see the bear right now, but my options were somewhat limited. I took a shaky breath, inhaling Nick’s familiar, spicy smell. Twelve years, and I bet I could’ve picked him out of a dark room full of men. I’d always loved to burrow under the covers with Nick. Always loved his warmth, his skin, the little scar over his heart where Jason had shot him with an arrow when they were eleven. Nick hadn’t shaved this morning. I could see the pulse in his neck beating fast. So he was scared, too. But he was here.

“There. You’re free.”

His face was very close to mine. Those dark, dark brown eyes…damn. They always held so…much. So much humor, so much disappointment, so much hope. It had always been a devastating combination.

Just then the bear stood on its massive hind legs, and terror, true, blinding terror, blanked out every conscious thought. Nick and I both lurched in our saddles, me pushing him away, him trying to pull me onto his horse, ever at odds with each other.

“Nick, get out of here! Go, go!”

“Get on my horse, hurry up. Shit, being eaten by a bear is not how I saw us ending up.”

“Stop talking! Just go, get out of here. You can make it, your horse is fast, go!”

“I’m not leaving you, but could you hurry up before we’re Smokey’s afternoon snack?”

“I can’t, you’re—”

And then the bear dropped back to all fours, preparing to charge. I clutched Nick’s arms. “I’m so sorry,” I said, surprising myself with the words. Your last words, some quiet part of my brain informed me. We’re going to die. “Nick, I’m so, so sorry.”

He looked at me then. Nick had always been able to stop time somehow. When he’d looked directly into my eyes, when he wasn’t goofing around or snarking or fighting with me, the world seemed to stop as some sort of gypsy magic took root. Even now. Even when we were about to be eaten.