With a note in front of it.
Kendall,
I didn’t mean to upset you. My father always told me I never had a way with words, and I suppose he’s right. All I wanted from our conversation is for you to know that if you need someone, too, I’m right here. You don’t have to be lonely even though you might feel alone.
Adam
Even though a smile crossed my face, tears filled my eyes. I put the note down and patted it with my hand, trying to digest his words. Such beautiful words, written down on paper. A stark contrast to the conversation we’d just had. I snickered as I picked up my coffee and walked to the microwave. A bit of nuking, and it would be hot enough for a cold day like that one.
Then, the power flickered.
For a split second, everything fell silent. The television didn’t hum. The pipes didn’t creak. The water heater didn’t murmur in the closeted corner. Heck, even the heater hissed as it slowly wound down to its resting state. The lights stayed off long enough for me to groan. Just long enough for me to grieve my cup of coffee. And as I moved toward the front door, the lights kicked back on.
“I don’t have gas in the generators,” I whispered.
Even with a flicker, they should have kicked in immediately. And the fact that they didn’t worried me. If we genuinely lost power, it would be a great deal more inconvenient for me to address the issue after it presented itself. So, as the microwave whirred with its thirty-second slot of time, I switched the channel on the television.
And bundled myself up.
I slid into my coat and pulled a hat over my head. I stepped into my boots as my eyes danced along the muted weather forecast. Indeed, the largest part of this storm had passed us. But, those three cells were still headed straight for us. There was still the risk of losing power, which meant everything else had to fall to the wayside until I checked on the generator.
“Make sure it’s all hooked up right, too. Haven’t had to use it in a while,” I murmured.
The bitter chill of the winter wind slapped me across my face. I grunted as I stepped outside and quickly closed the door behind me. No use letting out all that heat I’d need in a few minutes. With a tremble already setting into my bones, I marched in the snow. I dug myself a knee-high pathway around the back of my cabin, where the weather-proofed plastic container out back held my precious generator.
The darn thing cost me almost as much as the down payment on the cabin. Between getting the highest quality, encasing it in this miracle-like plastic cage, and insulating all of the wirings? That thing was more precious to me than anything else I’ve ever purchased in my life. The frozen vapor falling from my lips rode the curtails of the wind, pushing it right back in my face. Reminding me that even the peaceful season of winter I love so much can be cruel and demanding, when necessary.
“Now, for the gas,” I said breathlessly.
I carved a path to the storage unit I had outside, where I kept not only my gas but the keys to the generator case. I shuffled through the snow, making it an easier path for me to traverse once I got everything I needed. I drew in the harsh winter air and let it fuel me. I fished out the key and grabbed the first can of fuel, ready to strike that bad girl up. The sound of the oil pouring into the generator filled me with purpose. It gave me relief that we might actually make it through the storm without too much hassle. I thought, for sure, that the first massive dump of snow would take the power out.
But, even if it did at that point, I had more than enough gas to keep this generator running for us.
I set the can down. “Who knows? Maybe you might get a little break this winter, yeah?”
The generator guzzled and gurgled as if attempting to respond to me. And after making sure none of the gas leaked from it, I locked the plastic box back up.
“After all, even machines need rest. Isn’t that right?”
A growl emanated from behind me, and I froze. Not quite the answer I was expecting, I suppose. The sounds ceased as I slowly straightened my back. But, the accompanying snarl made my heart stop in my chest.
Easy, Kendall. Move slowly.
I moved like molasses. No, slower than molasses. What's slower than molasses?
Not the time, Kendall.
I made a mental note to look it up later as I slowly turned around. I’d never moved so slowly in all my life. But, when my eyes settled on the humongous black bear behind me, I felt my body lock up.
Keep calm. Breathe deeply. Don’t make any sudden movements.
The bear stared at me from its perched point. He hadn’t yet risen on his hind legs. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t attack me. Only one other time had a bear come that close to me, or my cabin. And I’d had my trusty shotgun at my side.
Which I stored in the guestroom Adam currently occupied.
“Great. Absolutely grand,” I whispered.
The bear let out a resounding roar, and I flinched. I took a small step back toward the cabin, but it sure wasn’t enough to make me feel safer. Why in the world hadn’t I taken my shotgun with me? Why didn’t I just go into Adam’s room and take it?
Oh. Right. Because you’re too busy playing ‘hospitality coordinator.’
“You’re an idiot, Kendall,” I murmured.
The bear took a step toward me, and I froze. I’d done my fair share of reading on what to do in the presence of a hostile bear. But, for the life of me, I couldn't conjure anything. I racked my brain for any shred of information it still housed. I needed something to help me. Anything to get me away from this insanely large black bear that had waltzed up onto my property.
Avoid eye contact.
Uh oh.
I quickly averted my gaze to the bear’s feet as it scraped its massive talons through the pristine snow in my backyard.
Use pepper spray if you have it.
Was it possible to be angry at my brain? Because right then, I was very angry at my brain.
If it charges, don’t run. You can’t outrun a black bear.
“Great, how in the world does that--no!”
The bear unhinged its jaw and let out the most ear-piercing bellow I’d ever heard. I watched with wide eyes as it rose onto its hind legs, extending its claws into the air. The bear’s stare locked with my own. Those black orbs of death latched onto me. Marking me as his next victim as it stood over two feet higher than the top of my head. And as much as I tried forcing my gaze back to its feet, I couldn't look away.
“Easy does it. It’s okay.”
The bear’s nostrils flared as my heart raced.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. I just need to--.”
He slammed back down onto all fours, and my heart fell to my toes.
“I need to get back inside,” I whispered.
But, as the bear charged me, all of my common sense fell to the wayside.
“Adam, lock the doors! There’s a bear, Adam! Stay inside!”
I didn’t even get going toward the porch, though, before a gunshot rang out. I felt the wind of the bullet whipping through the air by my shoulder as I lunged for the path I had created. The sound made me wince. Fear pushed me forward. But, when I heard the tell-tale sound of something falling, I whipped around.
I watched the charging bear fall into a heap in the snow.
Chapter Seven: Adam
I stood there with the butt of the gun jammed against my shoulder. With my cheek welded to the stock of the gun, I kept my aim on that massive animal. All I wanted to do was scare the thing off. I didn’t want to hurt him. But, if he charged Kendall again, I wouldn't have a choice.
Killing an animal is for food and supplies. Killing isn’t a sport.
My father’s words ran through my mind as the bear sprawled out into the snow. I knew I hadn’t hit it. The snow didn’t taint itself with red. So, what in the world was the bear doing? Kendall was frozen in place. Probably scared out of her mind, no doubt. So, I kept my gun trained on it in case the wild animal got any funny ideas.
At least my
curiosity serves a higher purpose this time.
My father was a hunter. Not once did my mother ever have to buy meat at a store during my childhood years. I never went hunting. I didn’t have the stomach to kill an innocent creature, even if it was for my family’s nutrition and benefit. But, my father still insisted on teaching me how to shoot. On teaching me gun safety and how to operate when in the presence of a gun. It was important to him. It was important to all the men in my father’s family. So--even though I never went hunting with him--I knew how to load, unload, cock, disassemble, clean, and put back together a plethora of guns.
“Adam?” Kendall asked.
The wariness of her voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I saw the bear getting up. Its legs pushed the gigantic black body up from the snow, and its eyes locked with mine. Now, I didn’t know much about bears. Only what my mother taught me in the years before her last stroke to keep me safe on hunts with my father. But, what I knew was this:
Looking a bear in its eyes was a death sentence.
“Come on, don’t make me do this,” I murmured.
The bear’s nostrils flared, and I took a chance. I cocked the shotgun, felt the empty round fall to my feet, and took aim at the bear again. Only this time, I aimed for its head. I squared my feet with my shoulders. I opened up my body for more strength. I drew in a deep, even breath as I laid my finger against the trigger, ready to put this animal down if it charged either one of us again.
Though, I hoped this bear wouldn't force my hand.
“Come on! Get out of here!”
The bear rose back up onto its hind legs, and I shook my head. Kendall called out to me as my aim fell to the bear’s chest. The roaring howl that animal had deep within its lungs shook me to my core. And the sheer size of this black bear was nothing other than awe-inspiring. Majestic, in a terrifying sort of way.
“Take the shot, Adam! Please!”
Without another word spoken, I pulled the trigger. I felt the blowback against my shoulder as the slug ejected itself from the barrel, heading straight for the animal. I shoved my hand into my pocket and dug out two more shots. I cocked the gun before opening the barrel, sliding both slugs into place. And after closing the gun, I mounted it against my shoulder. Ready to do battle.
But, it wasn’t necessary.
As the bear fell back down onto its hind legs, I saw a small patch of blood near it’s left hind leg. The bear blew air through its nostrils and shoved its nose into the snow, almost as if it was disoriented. I wrinkled my face as I watched the bear turn around. Leaving a small trail of red behind it, it scampered back into the woods. I didn’t take my aim off the animal, though. I let the barrel of the shotgun follow its track until I couldn't even hear the black bear moving about in the forest.
“Adam.”
Kendall’s breathless response pierced through my concentration, and my eyes fell to her. I watched her drop to her knees in the snow, and I leapt over the railing of the wrap-around porch. I sank into the snow up to my knees. With nothing but socks and sweatpants on, I made my way to her, shoveling snow out of the way with my feet as my shins dug me a wider path.
I dropped the gun and cupped Kendall’s cheeks.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
Her entire body shivered as tears rushed her stare.
“You--y-y-you, found the--uh--.”
She felt so cold against my palms.
“Come on. We need to get you inside.”
Her eyes fell to my chest. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
I chuckled breathlessly. “Guess my curiosity got the best of me in many ways.”
“What?”
I wrapped my arm around her. “Come on. I’ve got the gun. We need to get you inside.”
“But how did you know--?”
“We warm up first, then we talk. Okay? I’d hate for us to still be outside if that bear comes back with reinforcements.”
“That’s not how bears work.”
I held her close to my side. “Yeah, well. For now? I’ll take just getting back behind a closed door. What do you say?”
And she answered me by leaning hard against my body as I led us back inside with her cheek pressed softly against my bare skin.
Chapter Eight: Kendall
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I just--I don’t understand it.”
Adam handed me a mug of coffee. “You can’t beat yourself up about it.”
I took the mug. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem.”
“I don’t get it, you know? I mean, I’ve lived up here for years now. Animal encounters aren’t a rarity. Sure, there’s only been one other bear encounter like that up here at my cabin. But, still! I didn’t freak out the first time it happened.”
“Did you have that shotgun the first time it happened.”
I sipped my coffee. “Well, yes. I did. But--.”
Adam placed his hand on my knee. “Then, stop beating yourself up over it. You weren’t armed out there. You had no way to defend yourself. Anyone would’ve frozen up like that.”
“I don’t know. It’s like my brain wouldn't jump start or something. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
He squeezed my knee. “Drink. Warm-up. Take some time to decompress.”
I leaned back against the couch cushions as Adam sat on the coffee table in front of me. I clutched the warm mug and brought it to my lips as I tried settling my mind. His words were comforting to my heart, but they did nothing for my mind. It kept swirling and taunting me. Asking questions I didn’t have answers to.
Am I losing my edge?
Am I becoming too distracted?
Is something making me weak?
“You know what I think?” Adam asked.
I didn’t even realize my eyes were closed until they opened at the sound of his voice. And when I found his gazing into mine, I felt my knees tremble.
Even though I was sitting.
“What’s that?” I asked.
He grinned. “I think I know why you froze up.”
Because you’re here? “Why?”
“Because you’re hungry.”
I paused. “Wait, what?”
He held his arms out. “Come on. Everyone gets spacey when they’re hungry. And I bet your stomach’s rumbling. Want me to heat you up some leftovers? Or whip up a nice bear steak?”
My face fell. “Not funny.”
“Or regular steak. Either one works.”
I shook my head as a soft giggle fell from my lips. My stare willingly dropped to his chest, and I felt my cheeks flush. His lean muscles were still uncovered. Bared, for the world to see. Except the world couldn't see us. Not up here on this snow-covered mountain. Oh, no. It was simply the two of us trying to ride it out.
I felt my neck flushing, though, so I forced my eyes into my lap.
“I don’t think I’m very hungry right now. But, thanks.”
He scooted to the edge of the coffee table. “You sure?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. Thank you, though.”
“Kendall.”
“Yes?”
“Why won’t you look at me?”
I sighed. “I don’t know.”
I heard him moving, and for a split second, I grew fearful of the fact that he might be moving away from me. The sensation startled me as the panic clenched my heart. Why was I so afraid of him walking away? Was I still in shock?
Then, I felt him sit beside me on the couch. Close to me. With his thigh pressed against mine. The heat of the fire beating against my torso had nothing on the heat that our connection forced through my veins.
And I didn’t hate it.
“So, you say a bear’s only come this close once?” he asked.
I nodded. “Mhm. Couple of years back.”
“What did you do?”
My eyes lifted to the muted television. “Shot off a couple of warning shots, like you did.”
“Did the bear listen?”
/>
“I wish it would have.”
I watched the weather report roll through, over and over again. I watched the blobs of pink and white and purple rush across the map, absolutely covering Rankin. I saw the weatherman point out the other cells headed our way. I also saw one of them breaking up as it blew in from the north.
“Do you have the remote?” I asked.
Adam reached for it. “How loud do you want it?”
“--and while our reports are showing this third smaller cell breaking up as it moves across the nation, don’t think we’re out of the woods yet. There’s another cell headed in our direction, and our forecasts show it striking around 2 A.M.”
I held out my hand. “That’s enough, thank you.”
“Anytime.”
“As for this second cell? There’s a lot to be said about it. Some of our models forecast it breaking up, just like this third cell. And other models show it tearing through the entire state before fizzling out as it comes closer to the coast. However, this first cell is coming. And if you stay tuned, we will keep you updated on all your weather needs, as well as what’s to come. I’m Tom Brinkley, and this is WGFI News.”
I puffed out my cheeks. “Well. Great.”
Adam leaned back. “Maybe this cell will snow out all the bears.”
“Or push them closer to the house.”
“Got any more slugs for that shotgun?”
“If we run out, I’ve got plenty of ammunition for my pistol.”
He turned to me. “How many guns do you have in this place, exactly?”
“I think the better question is how many weapons are at my disposal.”
He paused. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you.”
I shrugged. “Eh, I’m not a cannibal, by nature.”
“By nature.”
“Yep. I much prefer steaks.”
“So, does that mean you’re a cannibal when you make yourself one?”
The Pastor's Son Page 5
