Spurred Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Western Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 4)

by Becca Fanning

  I reached past him into the open trunk to retrieve my pack. I pulled it out of the trunk and it landed with a dull thud against the forest floor.

  Thirty-two pounds didn’t sound like a lot of weight when I was deciding what to bring. A week was a long time, and I thought there couldn’t be any harm in overpacking. Better safe than sorry, I told myself as I wandered the aisles of the sporting goods store. Tent, sleeping bag, camp stove: those were defensible purchases. But why did I buy a collapsible camping chair? A folding knife and a comically large bowie knife? Why yes, I would like the canister of bear mace!

  I dragged my pack away from the trunk so everyone else could reach their stuff. I lifted the pack up with both hands and tried to swing my arm into the shoulder strap. I succeeded, then got pulled backwards and fell down onto the forest floor. “Help,” I said, my arms flailing like an overturned turtle.

  “Whoa there,” Dale said, rushing over to me. He took both my hands in his and pulled straight back. there was no strain in his effort: he lifted me like one would lift a pillow off a couch.

  I practically flew up into the air and crashed into him, my breasts pressing into his firm chest. I felt my cheeks go flush, and a bit of warmth inside me fought against the cold night air.

  “Let’s make that the only fall of the trip,” Jimmy said, coming around to the back of the vehicle. He plucked his pack from the trunk and locked in the straps that went across his waist and chest. He hesitated, then said, “I’m sorry if that came out rude. But we’re out here with no way to call for help. Let’s just be careful.” He leaned back into the trunk to rummage around.

  I nodded, turning away to hide my embarrassment. I pulled the wide waist belt around and snapped it closed. It had two large pockets and I squeezed them to make sure nothing had fallen out. I unzipped one pocket and pulled out my headlamp, slipping it over my head and turning it on.

  “What…” Jimmy said, the light from my headlamp shining into the trunk. He was looking down into the trunk.

  Mr. Duggar slammed the trunk down. “Time to get moving. We lost a lot of time already,” he said. “We walk down this service trail until we come to the river.” He hoisted his pack onto his shoulders and began walking down the trail, not waiting for us.

  We scrambled after him, Dale giving Jimmy a questioning look.

  Jimmy shook his head, indicating it was nothing. He was ahead of me, picking up the pace to catch up to Mr. Duggar.

  Dale was behind me, kind enough to not make me feel like I was the slowest in the group, even though that was the reality.

  But, I reminded myself, I was the only one who could get us where we needed to go. Once we got to the river, we’d need my map skills to reach our destination.

  Behind me, Dale began humming. Ahead of me, Jimmy joined in. Some endearing brotherly quality bonded them, and these cute little affectations were evidence of that. I didn’t know the song, but it had a cadence, and that helped my walking speed.

  As we got seriously into the hike, the warmth from our bodies kept the cold at bay. It was oddly comfortable, and I had one of those eureka moments when I realized that we’d evolved to do this. Our ancestors had walked thousands of miles across ice flows to populate the planet. And they didn’t have Gortex or Icebreaker to do it in!

  Up ahead, Mr. Duggar stopped on the trail. He raised a hand and froze. He was searching for something in the treeline, or something further down the trail. He must’ve heard something.

  “I heard something big up ahead. It crashed through some branches,” he whispered back at us. He didn’t have to say what he thought it was.

  Black bears can be found all up and down the Smoky Mountain National Park. They’re the largest predator east of the Mississippi, and they’re unpredictable. Normally, they behave like huge raccoons. They get into garbage, steal food, and climb trees when they’re threatened.

  But then there’s always the dreaded situation when you inadvertently get between a mother bear and my cubs. At that point, all bets are off. She might call to her cubs and have them go up a tree, or she might charge you. Oh, and everything you heard about to do when you run into a grizzly bear, you do the opposite with a black bear.

  “It’s a deer,” Dale said from behind me.

  “Or it could be a bear,” Mr. Duggar said. He spoke curtly, indicating his agitation.

  “It’s just a deer,” Jimmy said.

  “How do you know that?” I said.

  Mr. Duggar and I both looked at Jimmy.

  Jimmy sighed, eventually giving us a shrug.

  “Whatever it is,” Dale said from behind us, “It knows we’re hear and it’s leaving. If we stop to analyze every sound, this is going to take a month.”

  “Right, right,” Mr. Duggar said. He took a drink from his water bottle, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and turned back towards the trail. He pulled his shoulder straps tighter and continued down the trail.

  As we followed, a branch caught a strand of my hair and I turned my head to free it. I saw the white tail of a deer go bouncing further into the dark woods.

  “It was a deer!” I exclaimed.

  “Oh yeah?” Dale said. I could hear his grin, ear to ear. Thankfully Jimmy didn’t rub it in also.

  After a while we heard the sound of rushing water, gurgling somewhere ahead of us. I got excited, because that meant our first landmark and the chance for me to shine. I’d gone over the maps Mr. Duggar gave me, and I was pretty sure in myself. But things that looked clear as day on a map were sometimes indiscernible on the ground level.

  I guess that was one of the reasons I always liked maps. They gave you a bird’s eye view, let you know the contour of the land. there would be surprises, but the point of the map was to limit those.

  We came to a turn in the trail and found the river running down below us. It was about twenty feet to the other bank, and I guessed it couldn’t have been more than five feet deep. Right next to the river was a designated spot for camping. A few flat tent spaces were clear of debris and delineated by wooden boards.

  “We should make camp tonight,” Dale said.

  “Why?” Mr. Duggar said, checking his watch. “It’s only three AM. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

  “I get that, but we’re all pretty tired. We slept in the Jeep if we slept at all,” Dale said. “The cave’s not going anywhere.”

  Mr. Duggar began to chuckle. “Oh, the cave’s not going anywhere? So we can just waste as much time as we like? Of course, let’s just stop to smell every flower. It’s not like this is a scientific expedition or anything.” His sarcasm was dripping.

  “Look man, we’re all tired,” Jimmy said, trying to ease the situation.

  “Just because you’re whining, doesn’t mean we need to stop,” Mr Duggar said, advancing on Jimmy.

  I didn’t understand what was happening. Were they about to fight? Out here in the woods?

  “I bet Teresa can keep walking,” Mr. Duggar said. “Right Teresa?”

  “Well, I-“ I said.

  “Don’t make this about her,” Jimmy said, not backing down. He took a step towards Mr. Duggar.

  “If we sleep now, we’ll move faster tomorrow in the daytime,” I said. “Everyone wins.”

  Mr. Duggar threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, we make camp here,” he said. “The kids these days…”

  We all set about setting up our tents for the night. Mine was set up rather quickly, and I crawled inside to lay out my sleeping bag. I thought about eating something before I went to bed, but the warmth of my bag was too much to resist. Even a few hours of warm sleep would do me a world of good. I heard some struggling outside and what sounded like a tent collapsing.

  “Son of a bitch!” Mr. Duggar yelled.

  I covered my mouth, trying to silence my laughter. He certainly didn’t seem like much of an outdoorsman. The more I thought about it, the stranger his participation in this seemed. There were too many unanswered questions, and if I didn’t have Jimmy
and Dale with me, I’d probably be worried.

  I felt myself begin to drift off, and I put the nagging questions to rest.

  I emerged from my tent, the cold night air crisp against my skin. What was I doing? Did I have to pee? I looked at our camp in the blue moonlight.

  Dale’s and Jimmy’s tents were unzipped, and I didn’t see anyone in them. Mr. Duggar’s was half askew and looked like it would collapse again if a strong wind blew through. But I heard him snoring deeply from within.

  I recalled my head hitting my pillow and concluded I must be having another dream. I heard some noises down by the river and I walked over to investigate. My bare feet stepped through the damp underbrush, cold dew clinging to my skin.

  I looked down over the edge of the bank and froze. Down in the water, less than twenty feet away, was Jimmy. He dove under the water and popped back up. The river was shallower than I thought, because when he came up I could see that he was fully nude.

  His upper body was muscular and thick, even if he wasn’t as tall as his brother Dale. His broad chest and shoulders were chiseled from marble, and his ass glinted with athletic potential in the moonlit scene.

  How I loved these dreams!

  I let my eyes linger over his body, willing him to turn around. And he did. His prick was heavy and long, the head dipping down into the frigid river. His balls were pulled back tight against his body, keeping their precious cargo out of the cold water. His hands went to his genitals, and he splashed water over his cock to clean it.

  The poor thing should be somewhere warmer, I thought, my mouth watering. I slipped a hand down to my pussy and felt my slit getting slick. I watched Jimmy dive under and come up again, the refreshing water cascade down his naked body.

  I wanted him. I needed him.

  “You’d better clean off,” Jimmy said. He was addressing someone below me, on the edge of the bank.

  How strange. This was my dream. He should be talking to me. I had to correct this and moved down the bank, ready to jump his bones and make him scream my name.

  My foot caught on a root, and I tumbled head over heels. I landed and picked my face up out of the mud.

  Right in front of me was a massive brown wolf, his muzzle covered in blood.

  “Oh shit,” Jimmy said.

  I felt my body go limp, and everything got dark.

  Birds were squawking off in the distance. I opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling of my tent. I tried to shake off the dream from the night before, but that huge wolf still gave me a shudder. I came out from my sleeping bag and put on my shoes. Bladders in the woods were more demanding than normal, and mine was at Defcon One. I popped a squat off past the treeline and relieved the immense pressure.

  I strolled back into camp a new woman. The men were getting out of their tents now. They all looked well rested. We ate our breakfast and packed up everything, eager to get some serious miles done that day.

  I took out my map and compass, and after a few minutes I had plotted out our route to the next landmark. “We follow the river downstream. In about four hours we should come to an old bridge, which we’ll go over,”

  “Is it a trail bridge?” Dale said.

  “No, it’s an old logger’s bridge,” I said.

  “How old?” Jimmy said.

  “Who cares how old it is? It’s the fastest route?” Mr. Duggar said. He looked at me expectantly.

  “Yeah, it’ll save us a lot of time. If we have to take a trail bridge, we’re going twenty miles upstream in the wrong direction,” I said.

  Jimmy looked at Dale. Dale shrugged.

  “The loggers’ bridge is very old,” I said. “But we’re just three people. They built these for horse and cart to travel over. Trust me, it will not be an issue.”

  Four hours later, right on schedule, we reached the bridge. It was now less a bridge and more of a beaver apartment complex. The long timbers had collapsed, falling into the water and bobbing up and down. Some upright beams stood out of the water, useful for handholds, but this was not a safe passage. The river was now twice as wide, and thanks to some smaller tributaries they passed on the way, much deeper.

  “Not an issue, huh?” Jimmy said.

  I shot him a dirty look. “I’m doing my best here, and with the information I had, I made a call. I’m sorry if that wasn’t good enough for you!”

  “Here, here. Teresa, you did a fine job. We’re making great time and this bridge will do just fine,” Mr. Duggar said. “Lay off her, Jimmy.”

  I appreciated his supportive words, and glared at Jimmy some more.

  Jimmy sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry, Teresa.”

  “Apology accepted,” I said, already tired of being angry. Holding a grudge took a lot of effort, and this hiking was tough enough without having to be grumpy while doing it.

  “Move aside, boys,” I said. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  I stepped past all three men, Mr. Duggar with a bemused look on his face. I looked straight ahead at the other bank and just began walking across. I knew the key was to move forward, swiftly and with purpose. Faltering, hesitating or delaying would mean I’d fall in and get soaked, and probably lose some gear.

  Left foot, right foot. I passed deftly from log to log, using the upright poles when necessary. I felt my right ankle dip into the water, but pulled it right out and pretty much sprinted across the last quarter of the bridge. I got to the other side, my legs shaking, and a noise reaching me from across the river.

  I looked back over and Dale and Jimmy were cheering me. They pumped their fists in the air. I did a curtsy and almost fell on my ass, the thirty pounds of gear on my back not appreciating my ladylike nature.

  We made camp that evening in a flat clearing ringed by trees. I watched my little camp stove fire up and begin heating my tin cup of water. Another dinner of ramen. Like I didn’t get enough of this back in the real world.

  “Whatcha having tonight, Dale?” I said.

  “Instant. Mashed. Potatoes!” he said, raising both hands in the air in triumph.

  “How about you Jimmy?” I said.

  Jimmy gave a shrug and thrust his hand into his food bag, pulling out the first thing he found. “Couscous it is,” he said. He was not enthusiastic.

  “How about you, Mr. Duggar?” I said.

  Mr. Duggar was at the edge of camp, fiddling with something in his hands. I could see a glow illuminate his face. When he heard my voice, he shoved the thing into his pocket and spun around.

  I looked over at Jimmy and Dale, and they whispered something between them. I couldn’t catch what they said, and before I could ask, Mr. Duggar sat down near us.

  “Tonight, Teresa, I’ll be enjoying the finest mechanically separated beef and pork product known to man,” he said. From his pack he produced a Slim Jim and began to carefully open it.

  “Eww,” I said.

  “You young kids spend too much time surviving, and not enough time living,” Mr. Duggar said, snapping into his meat snack with relish.

  We turned in after dinner, and I checked my map for a little while before going to sleep. We were making better time than expected, and we might reach our destination the following day if we managed the same pace. It was hard to tell because the next day we’d be climbing in altitude, several thousand feet. That would slow us down for sure.