The obvious answer panged through her as the clatter of wood sounded, then Damien gripped her arm and pulled her backward.
“A bear! Get out of here!”
8
Throwing the logs aside, Charlotte scrambled after Damien. His grip on her arm never loosened, propelling her forward around and ahead of him toward the daylight.
Once they were out in the swirling snow, Damien spun her and grabbed the mule’s rope, then thrust the line toward her. “Take him. Get back to the trees.”
Before she could answer, he slipped his rifle from the scabbard on the saddle, grabbed his shot bag, and turned back to the cave.
Another deep rumble echoed from the opening, quivering her insides. She tugged the mule’s lead and started running, though the animal’s lagging steps on the icy rock slowed her.
A glance backward showed Damien had only followed a short distance before he stopped and now stood with the rifle pointed toward the cave opening.
Had he lost his senses? They could give the cave over to the bear. Better they all escape far away from the creature. “Run!”
Half-turning but still running and dragging the mule, she watched to make sure Damien came.
He stood with his feet planted, rifle raised to shoot.
The bear appeared from the cave, lumbering forward on all fours. The creature was one of the largest she’d seen, the light brown color of the more dangerous breeds in the area. It paused after emerging into the white storm, then rose up on its hind legs to look around.
Its nose lifted to the air as it scanned the landscape. The moment the beast looked their way, its demeanor transformed. With a roar a hundred times greater than the rumble inside the cave, its paws swiped at air.
An explosion ricocheted off the mountainside, barely muffled by the snow and wind. Smoke or powder puffed from the rifle Damien held, even as he moved swiftly to reload.
Another thundering roar emanated from the bear. The shot seemed to have barely stunned the creature as it dropped to all fours, stumbled one step, then lumbered forward in a ground-covering run.
“Damien!” There wasn’t time to say more. The bear was a half-dozen strides from him and was closing the distance fast.
Damien lifted the rifle to his shoulder again.
God, please.As she breathed the prayer, another explosion of spark and gunpowder flashed amid the falling snow.
Again the bear stumbled, this time with both front feet. One shoulder gave way, dropping to the snow. The creature’s momentum cast it into a roll that threatened to tumble right into Damien.
Finally, Damien spun and ran, sprinting through the snow with long strides. She didn’t wait for him to reach her and the mule, just tugged the animal and jogged as fast as Gulliver would move.
After another dozen strides, she glanced back to make sure Damien had the good sense to keep up with them.
He didn’t.
He’d stopped once more and stood ten paces from the bear, reloading the rifle. The man had taken leave of his senses to stand around like that. Though the bear lay in a heap on the snow, she’d heard of such creatures resurrecting and charging the hunter again and again.
She screamed into the wind. “Damien! Run!” Surely he heard the anger giving strength to her voice. Sometimes a dozen arrows wouldn’t kill these bears.
He had to run while he had the chance. Yet after raising his rifle to his shoulder once more, he stood motionless, watching the beast.
Completely ignoring her calls.
Fury steamed inside her, mixing with panic at the thought of watching that vicious creature maul him into a muddy heap. She didn’t dare move closer to grab Damien’s arm, but she couldn’t turn and escape, either.
“Run, Damien. Now!” If he hadn’t heard her anger before, there was no way to miss the fury this time.
He didn’t move for a long moment, but finally his voice drifted over the wind. “It’s dead. No need to worry.”
He didn’t lower his gun, and the urge grew strong inside her to stride forward and use the weapon to clock his witless head. She’d thought this man keen and experienced, far better at maneuvering in these mountains than she was.
