Page 69 of The Older Woman

Margo did as I asked. At first, the two creatures looked like big, shaggy dogs but it didn’t take me long to realize they weren’t dogs—they were bears. Black bears, to be specific. They weren’t an uncommon animal around the area, though it was strange that they’d come right onto the path. Either way, I wasn’t too worried. Black bears could look scary, but they were mostly harmless as long as you gave them their distance and didn’t spook them.

“Cubs, Margo,” I said, a tinge of relief hitting. “Just a couple of baby bears trying to get home, like you and me. Nothing to worry about.”

I stroked Margo’s mane slowly, feeling her body shake with nervousness. One of the cubs stopped in the middle of the path, glancing up at me. Despite the initial fear, I had to admit the cub was pretty damn cute. The first cub crossed, then the second. I kept Margo still until they were gone.

“Ready, girl?”

I patted Margo on her side once more, giving her the signal to start moving. She did, taking her first steps with a tiny bit of trepidation.

“Come on.”

Margo took some more steps forward, quickening her pace to the kind of trot that would bring us home in due time.

Just as we hit the next bend, I turned to my right just in time to watch as a huge, black form appeared in the woods, dark eyes staring back at me.

I’d been so wrapped up in keeping Margo calm that I’d forgotten one of the first rules of bears: Where there’s cubs, you can guarantee that mama bear isn’t far behind.

She rose up on her back paws, making herself bigger and letting out a deep growl that Margo didn’t care for one bit. Margo rose too, a fright-filled whinny sounding.

“Easy, girl. Easy! Just—”

I didn’t have a chance to finish before I tumbled backward, slipping off the horse. For several long seconds the world was a swirling blur as I fell. Pain blasted from my head and hip as I landed on both. Another bray from Margo filled the air, and through bleary eyes I sat up just in time to watch as Margo began tearing down the path without me.

I turned slowly to see the big, hulking mama as dark as a chunk of night itself. I stayed still, my heart beating hard as hell in my chest. Every instinct in my body told me to get up and run for it, but I knew enough to understand that running was the worst move to make when a bear was sizing you up.

Finally, after several moments that stretched out into their own mini eternities, the mama let out a snort as she returned to all fours and began across the path in the direction her cubs had gone. She tossed one more glance in my direction, as if confirming once more that I wasn’t a threat, before shuffling off into the woods.

I was alone. The danger having passed, the pain occupied my mind in full force. I’d crashed hard onto my hip, the momentum bouncing my head off the ground. Margo was long gone. Knowing her, she’d bolted straight home to the ranch. If she hadn’t, however, my parents wouldn’t be happy if I came home without her.

Speaking of home, I needed to get moving. The pain was intense, and as I pushed myself up to standing, a dizziness overcame me that made it hard to stay that way. I staggered to the nearest tree and leaned against it. The dizziness lingered, and the longer I stood, the more I realized I was going to need to call my dad and have him come and get me.

My hand shot to my hip pocket, and I pulled out my phone and quickly brought it to my face. My heart sank down to the soles of my boots as I looked upon the totally smashed screen. When I’d fallen, I’d landed with all my weight on the phone, crushing it to the point of uselessness. I tried in vain to turn the screen back on, but it remained black.

I felt weak. The phone fell from my hand and onto the snowy ground. I stepped back against the tree and slumped down into a sitting position. An incredible fatigue came over me like a heavy blanket, my eyelids drooping more and more...

I needed to get home, and I needed to do it before nightfall and the snowstorm were in full force.

First, I just needed to close my eyes…

Chapter 2

Jack

So much for a quiet walk in the woods.

Last thing I wanted to deal with was a pissed-off mama bear.

Buddy, my Australian Shepherd/Border Collie mix, stood at my side, his perked-up ears letting me know he was on high alert, his multicolored coat dusted with fresh snow.

“Stay right there, big guy,” I said as I crouched down, holding my palm out a bit in front of me. “Leave it.”

Well-trained dog that he was, Buddy stayed right at my side. My other hand hovered near the Magnum revolver I kept at my back hip for the possibility of such an occasion. During my years living in the woods, I’d only ever needed it for the rare warning shot. Truth be told, the idea of having to shoot a bear didn’t sit right with me in the slightest. A man needed to be prepared all the same.

The woods ahead shifted, branches moving. Slowly, I lifted my binoculars to my eyes. It was getting dark, and between the setting sun and the snow-filled clouds above, spotting anything in the woods wasn’t easy—especially a black bear and her cubs.

I groaned as I stood up.

You’re approaching the wrong side of forty, dumbass. About time you started realizing you’re not twenty-five anymore.

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