Page 61 of Wilderness Daddy

“It’s going,” he says in a whisper, kissing the top of my head. I don’t move, shivering against him, not wanting to look, not wanting to speak or open my eyes.

“Honey? It’s gone.” His voice is gentle as is the hand I realize is stroking my hair.

“Gone?”

“Yes, gone. I promise.” He pets my hair a moment longer before pulling me back from him. I cling to him, feeling my fingers rake against his skin.

“You’re white as a sheet.” His face is filled with concern as he scrutinizes my face. “You’re okay,” he soothes and forcibly turns me so I can see the bear is gone. “See, no more bear.”

“I’m okay,” I repeat, hot tears spurting from my eyes. “I’m fine.” I reiterate, as if saying it aloud makes it so. “It’s gone.” My last words trail off as I start to bawl and shake with tremors.

“You did good.”

I turn to face him at his words.

“No, I didn’t.” I sniff and draw in a shuddering breath. “I couldn’t remember the things you said. I didn’t know what to do.” I pull in another ragged breath and it comes out in wet choppy breaths. “I’m... s-sorry. I... sh-should’ve woken... y-you up. I... shouldn’t have w-wandered away.”

“You remembered some of it. And you’re right, you should have woken me, but you’re safe now. Okay? Daddy’s got you.” He yanks me back against him and holds me until I stop shaking. “I think you’re in shock.”

“You’re not mad?” I ask, peeking up.

“No, baby. Right now I’m just glad you’re okay.” He squeezes me tighter, petting me.

I nod, searching his eyes for any signs of upset. “Thank you,” I murmur. A little sobbing hiccup escapes and I lower my face. “Thank you for saving me. I wouldn’t blame you for being mad.”

“Where’s my tough girl?” he asks, brushing my hair back and taking my chin to tip my face up.

“Here,” I say in a small shaky voice that makes us both laugh. Then I say it again, surer this time. “Here. I’m here.”

“Look.” He’s pointing down and when I follow his finger I see a nest full of eggs, slightly larger than chicken eggs, right where I’d fallen in the tall grass.

“What are they?”

“Breakfast, baby. You found us breakfast.”

We gather the eggs and head back to camp. On the way he reminds me of what to do when I see a bear. And how it’s different depending on the kind.

“Remember, a black bear, like the one you saw today, you need to stand your ground. Make yourself big, loud, intimidating. If he attacks, you fight—fight like hell, cause you can’t play dead with a black. A brown, a grizzly, will take any yelling or aggressive behavior as a challenge. You need to back away slowly and if it attacks you, play dead. Face down, flat, and cover your neck.”

“Okay,” I say. “But make noise when you’re out walking around, right? Never surprise a bear.”

“Exactly, baby girl, exactly. Cats, you don’t turn your back on them either. Back away slowly if you can. But if he sees you, be an apex predator—don’t act like prey. Be loud and firm. No sudden moves. Make him think he’s gonna regret messing with you.”

I nod, wide-eyed, and he smiles at me.

“You’re still pretty shaken, huh?”

I nod again and this time my lip wobbles. He stops and takes my hand pulling me over to a patch of greenery. Picking something, he put it to my nose.

“Smell this.”

“Mint?” I ask and he nods.

“Open.”

I do and he pops the leaf in my mouth.

“Chew.”

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