Page 7 of Holding On to a Hero
I’d waited a week before venturing back to the wildlife preserve. I wasn’ttoonervous – just maybe a little concerned – about running into that Jason guy again, or even Cole Washburn. But running into them was far preferable to running into a supposed-to-be-nocturnal-dammit porcupine with a bizarre lack of fear of humans.
Right now I was wishing I’d stayed away at least one more day. Or five.
I’d been happily and obliviously sitting on my camp stool in my usual spot with the best view of the top of the beaver den. The angle of the sunlight wasalmostenough to see into the water to the entrance of the den, and I’d been so intent on getting a glimpse I didn’t even register the sound of the porcupine swishing its quills through the grass and leaves until it was right next to me.
It might have just come to drink from the pond, but since it was daylight rabies was a very real possibility.
Once I saw how close it was, my goal became drawing as little attention to myself as possible. Porcupines didn’t see very well in general, so I’d stayed very still in the hopes that Prickles the Persistent but Hopefully Not Pestilent Porcupine would just head back into the woods behind me and we could each move on with our respective days.
But, alas, something about me or my gear must have smelled interesting and completely non-threatening. Prickles stayed right by my side. It was too bad I’d taken myself completely out of the dating pool, because I could now update my hookup app profile.Cuddly enough even feral rodents walk all over me.
So here I was, sitting on a stool with a porcupine checking out my shoe. To protect my most vulnerable bits, I’d slowly leaned over to cover Will Junior with my belly. I had my left arm over my eyes and my head tucked to the right of my legs. If he swatted me with a tail full of quills it would hurt like hell but he wouldn’t hit anything major. Hopefully. I tried to stop wondering how deep a quill would have to go to hit a kidney.
Of course my back was going to be so painful later due to this awkward position I might end up wishing to be embedded with porcupine quills instead. Were porcupine quills used in acupuncture?
My mindfulness session had gone completely off the rails (sorry, Lisa) when I heard the faint slap-slap of a jogger coming down the road. Maybe the jogger would notice my precarious position with Prickles. Maybe the jogger would turn out to be Jason. He seemed like he’d be into exercise, and he’d definitely look good on the reenactment during an episode ofWhen Animals Attack!
Unconcerned with the jogger, Prickles moved from my left shoe to the camera tripod. On the plus side, the camera wasnoton the tripod but tucked next to my leg. On the down side, Prickles could very easily knock the tripod over, which would probably frighten him, and I was sitting right in his path to the sanctuary of the woods.
Prickles trundled closer to the tripod, his tail of death quills dragging against my left leg. Luckily I’d worn jeans today and not shorts. I lifted my head from the safety of my arm so I could keep Prickles in view. The top of the tripod was only a couple of inches above the top of the quills along Prickles’ back. If I reached out to steady the tripod and Prickles puffed out his quills, my arm would become a pincushion.
Do people still use pincushions? Had I everseena pincushion?
This line of thought was so absorbing that when a voice said, “Mr. Graham?” my whole body jerked and I almost jostled Prickles. I managed to freeze myself just in time. Shit, my back was going to be angry later. Prickles didn’t react to the voice and continued to snuffle around the tripod’s legs.
I looked toward the road.Fuck. It would have to be Cole Washburn, wouldn’t it? There could be nothing better than a hot Hollywood actor seeing you cringe away from a giant, stabby rodent.
Cole was walking towards me along the edge of the clearing, but I could tell the tall grass and shrubbery were blocking his view of Prickles. I put my hand out and started shaking my head at him. He stopped and said, “What’s the matter?”
I left my arm in the air – no sudden movements! – and pointed down at Prickles. Cole moved forward – slowly, thank goodness – until he was able to see over the tall grass. “Shit!” He stopped moving too.
Cole met my eyes. Fuck, he was gorgeous. He was wearing a long-sleeved running shirt and I could see the top of what I thought were compression pants. I immediately wondered if he wore underwear with them.Not the time!The sun glinted off his blue-black hair, kissed his tanned skin and sparkled from his deep green eyes. How was this a real person? I wished I could photograph him.
But then I remembered a porcupine was standing between me and the sexiest man I’d ever seen. Well, that symbolism wasn’t too obvious or anything.
Cole said quietly, “What can I do to help?” I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what porcupines liked to eat, even if Cole’s skintight running clothes had room for magic pockets full of porcupine treats from Petco.
Cole seemed to realize that I couldn’t talk to him. He inched a little closer. “What if I made some noise from over here? Maybe he’d go back toward the woods.” I shrugged again and gave him anit’s worth a tryface.
Cole stomped his feet in the grass. Prickles ignored him. Cole cleared his throat. Nothing. Cole yelled, “Hey!” Nothing.
“Maybe the porcupine is deaf?” he suggested. “Can you try making a small noise to see if he hears you?”
I looked from Cole to Prickles. It was worth a try. I might not get out of here for hours if I didn’t dosomething. I let my arm drop to my lap. Prickles didn’t notice.
I then made a small humming noise. Prickles froze. The quills on his back started to rise. I stopped humming. The quills stopped moving. I held my breath.
Cole cleared his throat again. I couldn’t tear my eyes from Prickles to look at him. Cole said, very quietly, “I’m going to try tossing a rock just to this side of you so he’ll move away.” Okay, that made me look at him. I bugged my eyes out at him and shook my head wildly.
“Don’t worry,” he assured me, “I have good aim.” He looked around his feet and picked up a rock. I guess this was happening whether I wanted it to or not. Prickles had gone back to nosing around the legs of the tripod. I braced my feet on the ground and got ready to jump up.
Cole gave the rock a gentle underhanded toss. It flew softly over the grass and landed a few feet away from Prickles, who paused and lifted his nose in that direction. Was he sniffing for a predator? Did porcupineshavepredators? There wasn’t much wind, but maybe Cole’s scent would carry over here. Did porcupines have a good sense of smell?
Prickles went back to his obsession with the tripod. I looked at Cole and he gave me a helpless look back. Fuck, this could take all day.
I needed to make a run for it. I eased the camera strap from around my neck. Prickles didn’t care. Muscles tensed, I slowly lowered the camera to the ground behind me. So far, so good.
I looked at Cole and mouthedNoiseat him. Cole nodded sharply and started stomping his feet. Prickles went on about his sniffing business. My feet were at an awkward angle so I couldn’t just stand up. I put my hands on the seat of the camp stool under my butt and leveraged myself up. The stool creaked. Prickles and I both froze.
