Page 57
“How long till we get to the spirit bears?” Trevor shouts above the roar of the rain pounding on the leaf-covered ground.
I slow my pace to let him catch up with me. “If you keep screaming like that, probably never. But we still have a solid two hours before we get to their territory, and even then, I’m not sure our chances are good. Too much rain.”
Trevor grunts. “I’m not gallivanting in this weather for nothing. You better find us the bears.”
I’m tempted to reply I told you so, but I don’t think that’ll go over well, so I say, “If we find a river, we’ll have a better chance of catching one while they’re hunting. There’s one a little bit more to the west.”
“Lead the way, then.”
This is too dangerous. Every bone in my body is screaming at me to turn around and walk back to the lodge, but I resume the hike and head west. I carefully navigate the narrow path, pushing aside branches as the trail becomes increasingly narrow. The last stretch to the river dwindles into a vertiginous descent littered with rocks as sharp as knives, and with the mud, it’s practically impassable.
I test the terrain, my boot slipping instantly. I land ten inches lower than planned. Securing my position at a forty-five-degree angle, one foot down, my other high on the slope, I extend my palm toward Charlee. “All right, let’s go slowly, one by one, and always perpendicular to the descent. Never face it forward, or you’ll be sure to end up on your ass at the bottom.”
Charlee nods, stretching her fingers toward me. I grab them, ignoring the now-familiar tingling sensation in my nerves every time her skin meets mine.
I tighten my hold around her small hand as she starts her descent, but her left foot lands where I slipped, and she loses her balance. My arm flies around her waist, yanking her tight against me before she tumbles onto the rocks below. Her hands clutch my shoulders, her fingers digging into my soaked vest. She looks at me with wide eyes, surprise or panic at what might have happened, I’m not sure. Her cheeks, on the other hand, have a red hue they didn’t have seconds before, and I can’t help but wonder if my proximity is to blame.
“Thank you,” she wheezes, her breath caressing my mouth. Just the slightest movement, and our lips would brush.
“Are you okay?” I flex my fingers where they’re still firmly curled around her waist. She could have hurt herself very, very badly. Or even worse.
She nods.
I lift the hand that isn’t holding her against me and gently wipe a smear of mud off her cheek. Her eyelids flutter, and I swear it almost feels like she’s nuzzling further against my palm.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
So many thoughts I can’t read rush through her forest-green eyes. “No, I’m fine.”
“Okay.” I loosen my grip, leaving it up to her to take whatever space she wants. She tears herself away from my arms and resumes her descent. Slowly and carefully, she makes her way down like a pro, her body locked and alert until she’s at the bottom.
I let out the breath I was holding, then signal for the next person.
Axel and Nick go down without a problem, while Emma holds my hand in a death grip as I try my best to stabilize her with the camera. When it’s Trevor’s turn, the man just ignores my extended hand and handles the slope by himself.
A heartbeat later, I join everybody down the hill. Behind us, the river flows wildly, the rain pattering on the water. And right there, across the swollen riverbank, are two white bears.
“Emma, look.” I point toward the spirit bears, who are working hard to catch salmon. “Looks like a cub and his mom.”
Emma angles the camera in their direction as Trevor signals to Charlee to turn her mic on and get in the shot.
The spirit bears catch our movement and raise their heads with curiosity in our direction. The promise of food is too great to make them dangerous, though, and the river too wide for them to cross safely, especially in this weather.
Still, I come to stand next to Charlee. “Don’t get too close to the river. The bears look hungry, and a mom would do anything to feed her cub. Even if it means putting herself in danger. No harsh or threatening movements, okay?”
I don’t know if she notices the fear in my gaze. I trust her—god, in that moment, I realize how much I do—and if I had the time to explore that thought, I would probably spend hours trying to understand how quickly I’ve come to blindly place my faith in her. But there’s no time to linger, and despite that trust, the poor conditions could make even the smallest of mistakes fatal.
“I understand,” she says over the racket of the river. She looks across the water. “They’re beautiful. I could sit here for days watching them. Drawing them.”
I hum my approval. “They’re quite the creatures. Rare and unique.”
I’ve said those words before—said them about her—and I see on her face that she remembers. My very own spirit bear.
“Charlee, get in front of the camera!” Trevor shouts, and my warning look shuts him up.
Emma holds out her fingers, counting silently from three to one before she points to Charlee.
“Our adventure today takes us to meet some Kermode bears, more widely known as spirit bears. Indigenous tribes living in the rainforest decided on that name, as they saw these rare bears as sacred animals. And, no, the two you’re seeing right now aren’t polar bears, nor are they albinos. They have pigment in their skin and eyes, which wouldn’t be the case for albinos. So why are they white, you ask? It’s because they have a recessive gene that causes their unusual coloration.”
