Gun still in shooting position, he stepped toward the bear. She could only watch, gritting her teeth but not looking away. The heap of fur hadn’t moved, so maybe the animal really was dead.
Damien’s steps started out confident but grew slower as he reached the mass. Extending a foot, he lifted one of the bear’s immense paws, then let it flop back down. After nudging another of the creature’s body parts, he finally lowered his gun and turned to her with a nod. “It’s dead.”
Then he strode toward her, looking as though it didn’t matter that he’d just risked his life to kill the bear when the wiser choice would have been to find a better place to camp.
As he approached, he moved to the saddle pack. “That bear had probably just begun its winter sleep. I’ve heard they wake easier when they’ve first bedded down, and they rise up with a fierce temper. I doubt anything else was in the cave with it, but let me take a candle in first before you come in.”
She stood with the mule while he dug out the taper, then he turned and strode back to the cave, ducking inside. The tumult within her rivaled the swirling storm around them. She’d never been one to take unnecessary risks, and now that she’d seen the kind of danger Damien would willingly place himself in, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be around him any longer. Perhaps she’d do better to find her own way to Fort Versailles.
Yet with this storm, she would be foolish not to take cover in a protected cave—as long as they were the only occupants. Could she trust that he would really make sure that was the case? Or would he only go far enough inside to glance about, then assume no other animals were there?
She would have to check every corner herself ... once he came out and confirmedhe’dfound nothing.
As she huddled close to Gulliver, they waited for Damien’s return. She would probably need to help dress the bear and smoke or roast the meat. But she couldn’t bring herself toapproach the creature yet. She could still picture him raised up on back legs, nose sniffing the air. Then those yawning fangs as his roar shook the mountain.
Damien finally appeared at the mouth of the cave and motioned her inside.
Gulliver seemed as suspicious of the bear carcass as she felt, so they worked their way down the slope enough to give the pile of fur a wide berth before climbing back up to the cave.
When they reached Damien, he held the lit candle in his hand and stepped backward, waving them inside. She stepped across the threshold and tugged Gulliver to follow her. He’d refused before, but maybe he’d sensed the bear inside.
He halted now but didn’t seem as determined to resist. Instead, he sniffed toward the cave entrance, long ears pricked as he weighed the risk.
“Come, boy. It’s better inside.” She used her crooning voice and kept a steady pressure on the rope.
First one step, then another small one. The mule approached and ducked his nose inside. Another round of sniffing ensued, and she gave the fellow a pat on his neck. “This is good for you. Come on in.”
At last, he seemed to finally believe her. Gulliver brought his front hoof into the cave, his hooves clacking loudly on the stone floor now that the howl of the wind was more distant.
He hesitated once more with his back half outside, and she stepped near enough to rub the spot at the base of his neck he seemed to enjoy the most. He finally blew out a long breath and dipped his head, leaning into her touch.
“There’s a boy.” After another moment indulging him, she gave a final pat. “Let’s bring the rest of you in.”
She nudged the rope forward, and this time the mule stepped in fully, then dropped his head to sniff the stone floor. “Good fella.” She stroked his neck, then turned her focus to determine what needed to be done first.
Damien knelt across the cave from her, a small fire flickering from the logs in front of him. His focus was on her, though, and the light barely illuminated the curve of his mouth. “You have a way with him. I’m not sure he’d let many others coax him in with so much bear scent still lingering here. Especially not someone he’d only met this morning.”
Warmth slipped through her, and she looked away to keep from showing too much of her pleasure at his words. She wasn’t ready to trust this man again, and even less willing to like him.
To strengthen her resolve, she turned toward the back of the cave. The small fire didn’t provide enough light for her to see the rear wall or any other tunnels. “You’ve searched for other animals?” She kept her focus on the darkness, straining for any sound or scent that might signal another creature.
“I did. Nothing else here except you, me, and the mule.”
“How far back does it go?” Even with her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she could make out nothing in that area.
“This room goes straight back a short distance, then a side tunnel branches off to the left. It ends at a rock wall, though. Nothing else there.”
That should be easy enough to explore and check for herself. She turned toward him and the fire. “May I borrow the candle? I want to make sure it’s empty.”
Surprise tipped his features, but he reached for the taper, lit it in the fire, then handed the candlestick to her. “You don’t believe me?” His tone sounded half-teasing, half-surprised.
She took the candle from him and shifted toward the rear of the cave. “I don’t take chances.”Especially not after that bear.
With the circle of candlelight in front of her, she traipsed up the slight incline until she reached the rear wall. This room was only about three times as deep as its width. The area at the bottom with flattened fur and other debris cluttering the floor must be where the bear had curled up for its winter sleep.
Gooseflesh rose on her arms, and she focused on the walls instead. She certainly agreed with Damien’s choice to build their fire and lay out camp at the front end of the cave, far from this area.
The candlelight finally found the side tunnel he mentioned, a much smaller passage that required her to duck to enter. She hesitated at the opening. Did she really want to explore a tiny corridor?
