Page 54 of Wilderness Daddy

I want more than anything to have Landon’s arms around me. His warmth and safety embracing me. He’ll be angry at first. Because, my God, this has got to be the stupidest thing I have ever done. But then, then he’ll take care of me. And if I’m lucky and he isn’t sick of me, we’ll make love and he’ll let me stay and we can not only crush my father’s ideas on merging but make Steed the number one sports wilderness store in the world.

Checking for a signal again only makes the dread in my gut rise. Still nothing. And now that the sun is lowering enough to cast deep, dark shadows, I’m feeling even more hopeless than earlier.

Yes, I have a sleeping bag with me and yes, I have enough water and snacks for several days and some bear spray, but then what? I look around. What if I fall asleep and a pack of wolves finds me? I swallow hard at the thought, looking up so the tears threatening don’t slip out. Can I sleep in a tree?

“Cougars and bears climb trees, dumbass,” I say, scolding myself again.

I’ll ask—no, beg Landon to spank my ass for my ridiculously horrid judgment when I find him... if I find him. God, please let me find him. Just let me live through this.

I come to a clearing and hear a loud metal clank. Turning, I see a huge figure obscured just at the edge of the shadowed brush. I almost call out, but then I stall. The hair on the back of my neck prickles as I look closer. It’s really big, well over six feet. Probably closer to seven and covered in hair, or fur I guess. A grizzly? The Wilderness Man said they can be seven feet when they stand on their hind legs. My heart beats so fast I feel lightheaded.

I’m not sure between the dusk and brush if it’s a grizzly, but what else could it be? I rub my watering eyes and try to focus. I see hands as they reach to the ground—large, humanlike hands. Not paws. Grizzlies have paws.

I quietly move back behind a tree and crouch down. What the hell is that thing? Breathing in and out, I try to slow my wildly beating heart. Don’t be ridiculous, I tell myself as a possibility flits through my mind. It can’t be. They don’t exist.

Bigfoot is not real. Sasquatch is not real.

I peek, trying hard to steady myself, as it sets off another bear trap, or at least that’s what I think it is. My heart is beating so hard I’m waiting for the man-creature to turn and look at me from the sound of it banging off my ribs, but it continues to move around holding traps in its huge manly hands.

Dehydration can cause hallucinations... but I’m not dehydrated, am I? Shit. Oh, shit. I reach back into my pack’s side pocket and grab my water. Drinking the whole bottle with my eyes closed, before I peek again.

Still there. I pull my head back, press it against the tree and close my eyes again. Waiting, I stay quiet. The water needs to get into my system, I tell myself. The effects of dehydration can’t be reversed instantly, right?

When I check again after ten minutes, the creature is no longer visible. I strain to listen, but again all I can hear is my own heart.

I stand, moving out from my hiding spot to look more thoroughly, ready to run if it’s clear. I see nothing, not even the wind moves the trees as I watch.

Wilderness Man says always let animals know you’re there so they can avoid confrontations with you, but is this an animal? I suddenly don’t care. I just want out of here. I burst forward, crashing through the brush like a herd of elephants, running as fast as I can in the opposite direction. And this time, I keep my eyes peeled for bears, cougars, wolves, and Sasquatch.

The forest is getting thicker and the sun’s so low I have to squint to see. I have to slow to a walk again, breathless, my face stinging from branches whipping and tearing against my cheeks. If I don’t slow I’m going to twist my ankle and I don’t even want to think about what that would mean.

My throat is dry, so swallowing is difficult. I want to drop to the ground and bawl, but I can’t. If I do that it’s over; I’ll die out here. I know it.

I pull my pack off to grab another bottle of water, trying to control my rapid breathing, partly labored from the long run, partly from panic. The bottles aren’t easy to find. They must have fallen to the bottom from running, so I set the bag down and sit on the damp earth to search. It feels good to be off my feet. I find the bottle and drink. Resting, I reflect.

Could I really have seen a Sasquatch? Of course not. There’s no such thing. I huff out a chuckle, feeling silly. Just like a child who thinks she’s seen a monster in the closet, I’ve completely freaked myself out. My chuckle turns to a giggle and before long, I’m laughing aloud.

I laugh until my belly hurts. A stress reaction, I’m sure, but it feels good. Only I’m even more tired when the giggles abate. Tired isn’t even the right word. I’m exhausted. Closing my eyes for a minute, just a minute, I listen.

Concentrating, I hear the sound of water in the distance. There’s both a creek and a lake near Landon’s camp and they’re the only two within ten miles. I know that from the videos. Maybe I’ll recognize something in the area. And I couldn’t be that far off track, could I?

I jump up, swinging my pack over my shoulder and glancing quickly at my GPS. The signal is back. Thank God! I watch the screen and walk as I remind myself of all the amazing things Landon said about me in his videos.

He wants me. He’ll be happy to see me.

I’m close. I see so on the screen. I pick up my speed but before I can look up, I slam into something. There’s an oomph. Only it isn’t mine. My eyes dart up.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?” Landon stands in front of me, his hands reach out to steady me.

“Landon?” I can’t believe it! I do a little dance with the sudden burst of happiness and relief I feel. And then, before I’ve even thought it through, I leap into his arms, pressing my wanton mouth against his hard frown. His beard is sexy as hell as it tickles my face.

It takes a second for him to reciprocate the kiss but when he does, it’s with the skill and attention I’ve grown to expect. The heat of his stroking tongue makes me weak with its thorough ministrations. And when his hands move to my ass and his fingers dig into my bottom, I moan into his mouth.

“Daddy,” I say on a breath when he releases my mouth. “I missed you so much.”

He sets me down, keeping his hands on my ass. His former frown comes back, this time deeper, making my gut sink. His face is weathered from the sun, giving him an even more rugged appearance.

“What the hell were you thinking coming out here alone?” he demands. I swallow hard as his hands leave my bottom and he strokes his thumbs across my branch-whipped, stinging cheeks. I wince and he places his hands on my shoulders and shakes me just a little.

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