Page 18 of Out of the Cold

“Hilde?”

“Possibly, if it feels threatened or has cubs.”

“Oh, God.”

“Unless we have a mild winter, the bears will be denning by mid-December. But that’s not the same as hibernating. They may still go out looking for food.”

“So this really is bad.”

“It’s not great.”

“I suppose I gave you one more reason to think I don’t belong here.”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I don’t, but that’s my problem, not yours.”

“It becomes my problem if you’re putting yourself in danger. You don’t even know how ignorant you are,” he said, his voice strained. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

He looked back down at the ground, but his face betrayed an anguish that went far beyond a bear getting into the trash. Something else was going on with him, but that didn’t change the fact that he was right.

“Go back home, Gabriel. I’ll deal with this, okay?”

He nodded, his face once again impassive. “You know where I’ll be.”

She watched him go, her anger dissolving into uncertainty. Maybe Gabriel was right and she should cut her losses here. She was miserable anyway, and tired of not knowing what she was doing. Last night talking to Cara, she’d been trying to convince herself she’d be fine and get the hang of things.

Only she clearly wasn’t.

Back inside, she rummaged around under the sink until she found more garbage bags. Her heart beat faster and her hands shook as she dumped the mess into the trash bag, expecting a bear to come lumbering around the corner of the house at any moment. When she finished, she took the bag to the shed that sat near the trees on her side of the little creek. Inside, as promised, were several trash bins.

Her steps were slow and heavy as she made her way back to the cabin. Her pride in having managed the fire seemed pitiful now.

Her oatmeal sat on the table, cold and congealed. She ate it anyway, too defeated to bother heating it up, and washed it down with the last cold dregs of her coffee. When she was done, she pulled her laptop toward her and searched for all Len’s emails. Sure enough, he’d mentioned the trash and hot tub. Apparently, Gabriel maintained the hot tub, too.

When she was done reading emails, she opened her manuscript to the most recent scene, but her fingers didn’t move. Her mind was blank, Maggie’s determination and grit a million miles from what she was feeling.

A familiar weariness filled her. Closing the laptop, she rose and headed for her bedroom, Hilde at her heels. The dog looked at her in confusion as she climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her.

She woke sometime later to Hilde’s whines. Opening her eyes, she found the dog sitting exactly where she’d been when Lucy fell asleep. The clock on the bedside table showed it was nearly one o’clock. She’d been out for nearly four hours, and she was still exhausted.

Could she be getting sick? The treatments that cured leukemia sometimes caused their own problems later on. She tried not to dwell on the possibility, but her body was out of kilter, and she knew better than anybody not to ignore symptoms.

She kneaded the glands in her throat. Normal. Getting up, she went into the bathroom and pulled out her thermometer, sticking it under her tongue. The thermometer beeped. Her temp was normal, too. Developing a heart condition from the treatments was always a fear, but she’d seen the cardiologist a month ago, and everything had been fine.

She wouldn’t be like this if she were home. Nothing here was what she’d expected, and she wasn’t up to it. Her body was only telling her what she already knew.

Hilde whined again. Heading into the mudroom, Lucy stuffed her feet into her sneakers. “Sorry, girl,” she said, snapping the leash on Hilde. “No more running free for a while.”

The fresh air revived her somewhat, and she couldn’t help but smile as the dog sniffed her way around the yard. Hilde would hate being stuck in the car on the drive to Florida, but they could stop often and take walks. And the whole family would dote on her. She’d get even more spoiled.

Relief swept through her as she pictured them heading east, then arriving at the safety of her parents’ house. They were going to be thrilled when she told them. It would be embarrassing to give up so soon, but she knew her limitations. She was lonely, and she wasn’t physically up to being here.

Back inside, she heated up some soup, already feeling better. She’d call her parents and let them know, then call Len. She didn’t relish the thought of telling him she was leaving already, but he didn’t need her here.

Her phone rang as she was sitting down to eat lunch.

Mark.

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