Sullivan's Promise

by Joan Johnston

  “Wasn’t it? I don’t remember us doing a lot of talking once we got to your hotel room,” she reminded him. “It was all about touching and kissing and very gritty, down-and-dirty, pretty amazing…” She hesitated, met his gaze and said, “Sex.”

  “I thought I’d found my soul mate!” he blurted. Rye was immediately sorry he’d spoken. Why reveal how stupid he’d been, pinning his hopes and dreams on a total stranger? Why make himself vulnerable to a second rejection by admitting how important he’d believed she was to his future happiness?

  Vick stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, setting a gloved hand against his cheek. She looked deep into his eyes and said in a quiet voice, “I had no idea you felt like that, Rye. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  Her apology poured balm on a wound he hadn’t previously acknowledged. Her eyes slid closed as he lowered his head to place the barest kiss on her lips. Except, that touch wasn’t nearly enough. He slid his arm around her waist and tried to pull her close but was hindered by their bulky coats and equipment. He shoved her binoculars out of his way as his mouth captured hers, and he was soon lost in the taste of her, caught up in her urgent response. Apparently, she understood what he’d been saying, maybe even wanted the same thing. He’d have to ask her to be sure, but he was too busy now for words.

  Suddenly, he heard a woofing sound and branches crackling. He jerked his head around and locked eyes with a grizzly bear cub as shocked to see him as he was to see it. Every hair on his body stood on end as the cub made a screeching sound, like a newborn calf in distress. It whirled and ran directly into a second cub, tumbling them both into a heap, creating a cacophony of fearful shrieking noise meant to attract their mother.

  Their mother.

  Rye realized two things at once. First, he didn’t want to shoot a mother bear. That would be dooming the cubs. And second, he wasn’t going to be able to get his rifle off his shoulder and into his hands in time to shoot anything. While he was still frozen in place, the cubs disappeared into the undergrowth.

  He waited for the mother bear to show her face, to charge him, but he heard nothing. Not a sound.

  “Where is she?” Rye croaked. “The mother bear.”

  “I don’t see her,” Vick said in a quiet voice.

  He couldn’t believe she was so calm. One look at her face and he knew she wasn’t as unruffled as she’d sounded. Her eyes were wide as saucers, and the hand that held a can of bear spray was shaking badly. “What do we do now?” he asked.

  “Let’s stand here a minute and talk quietly without moving. If the cubs are back with her, maybe the mother grizzly won’t think we’re a threat, and she’ll take them and leave.”

  What seemed like the longest two minutes of his life later, he heard Vick release a long, loud sigh of relief. “There they are,” she said, pointing with the bear spray in her hand at the mother and her two cubs, halfway up a nearby slope and heading even higher, weaving in and out of the pines. “I think we’re okay.”

  Rye heard a long, loud psssss, like a locomotive letting off steam. Confused by the sound, he turned to his left, and was stunned by what he saw, because it seemed so impossible.

  A second grizzly emerged from the tangled brush and took several giant leaps toward him. The first thing he noticed was the gold streak across the bear’s hump.

  Goldilocks!

  His body still hadn’t stopped trembling from his encounter with the cubs, and the sudden appearance of this known man-killer seemed supernatural. There was no question in his mind that the grizzly was going to attack. Rye noticed what seemed like odd facets of the bear in the moment. Her little round ears sticking out from her big skull. The muscles rippling in her gold-streaked fur. Her dark underbelly as she lifted herself onto her back feet for just a second before coming down on all fours again, favoring her right forepaw.

  He stood his ground, knowing he didn’t stand a chance if he ran. He couldn’t remember where he’d heard a grizzly could travel fifty yards in three seconds, but he was sure Goldilocks had moved at least that fast when she appeared out of nowhere. His body wasn’t responding to the commands of his brain, and he couldn’t seem to move. He had trouble getting his rifle off his shoulder, because it kept getting hooked on the knife he held in a sheath at his waist. He couldn’t catch his breath, and his heart felt like it might rocket out of his chest.

  The grizzly’s mouth was open as she woofed a warning. He saw long, sharp teeth and drooling slobber. He wondered if he was imagining her fetid breath, or whether he was only remembering what Mike had said.

  Then she charged.

  Rye’s rifle never made it off his shoulder. When the enormous grizzly was less than ten yards away, he heard a whooshing pfffft that stopped Goldilocks in her tracks. It took him a second to realize her terrifying visage was enveloped in a cloud of orange-yellow mist. Bear spray. The grizzly was getting a heavy dose of capsaicin, derived from the hottest of hot chili peppers, blinding her eyes and burning her nose and swelling her throat and lungs, making it hard to breathe.

  Rye grabbed for the bear spray at his waist, fighting with the Velcro cover that held it in the holster.

  He was fumbling to get the safety off when he heard a deafening craaack! That was followed by a second craaack! Both sounds echoed off the surrounding mountains.

  When he looked up again, bear spray finally at the ready, Goldilocks took one step, teetered, and fell onto her side. If the grizzly had continued its charge, he would have been far too late to save himself.

  His whole body was trembling, and his heart was thundering in his chest from the burst of adrenaline it had gotten. He turned to Vick and saw that her face had blanched as white as chalk. His tongue was dry of spit, but he managed to say, “You shot her.”

  Vick’s mouth was opened wide, gasping for air. “She had to be put down.” She’d dropped the empty can of bear spray at her feet and let go of her rifle, which hung across her chest on the cords attached to her backpack, to grab the second can of bear spray from her belt with shaking hands. “Not sure why Goldilocks was here, so close to the mother bear and her cubs, but with our luck there’s a third bear out there somewhere.”

  He held his palms up as he approached her, afraid she would reflexively spray him. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He cleared his throat and croaked, “We’re okay, Vick. The grizzly’s dead. You killed it.”

  Her shoulders slumped and tears of relief sprang to her eyes, as she heaved a single, desperate sob.

  He held on to his bear spray as he opened his arms wide, and she stumbled into his embrace, shivering and shaking. His arms folded around her, and he murmured words of comfort.

  “We’re all right. You saved us. We’re okay.” He added, “I’ll be carrying my bear spray in my hand with the safety off from now on.”

  That made her laugh. And cry.

  When she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, a smile on her face, he gave her a quick, hard kiss. Short and sweet. He wouldn’t make the mistake of getting distracted again in grizzly country.

  Vick’s satellite phone rang and she answered it. “Yes,” she said. “I got two bullets into Goldilocks, and she’s down.” She pulled the phone from her ear and said to Rye, “Can you check to make sure she’s dead?”

  “Sure,” Rye said, unslinging his rifle with surprising ease, now that the emergency was past. He approached the grizzly carefully, made a quick examination, and said, “Two wounds. One to the chest, one to the head. This grizzly has gone to bear heaven.”

  Vick made a face at his levity, then gave the other members of the team confirmation that the grizzly was dead and coordinates for where they were. Finally, she said, “If you’ll take care of removing the carcass, we’ll head home. Sure. We’ll leave the snowmobile where we found it.”

  When she ended the call, she said, “We’re done here.”
r />   “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “That you had to be the one to kill Goldilocks.”

  Her eyes looked bleak. “Fine savior of the grizzly I am. I hope I never have to do anything like that again.”

  “You made sure that bear won’t harm anyone else,” Rye said.

  “I want to catch the poacher who wounded Goldilocks and made her a killer,” Vick said, her eyes narrowed and her mouth thinned. “And string him up by his thumbs.”

  “I’m with you there,” Rye said.

  “Pete will retrieve any evidence he can from Goldilocks, so we can prosecute if we ever catch the guy.”

  “I learned a very important lesson today,” Rye said.

  “What’s that?”

  “How to stay alive during a bear attack.”

  She shot him a quizzical look.

  He explained, “You were right. I never got my gun off my shoulder in time to use it for defense. If you hadn’t stopped that bear in her tracks with pepper spray, I would have been down for the count.”

  Rye shuddered as he recalled Mike’s gruesome wounds and realized that he’d barely escaped being similarly injured. He finally understood why Vick had brought two cans of bear spray. If you were ever attacked and used one can on a bear, you’d have a second for protection from other bears—attracted by the smell of blood, if you were injured—on the way out.

  “I’m just glad we managed to come out of not just one, but two bear encounters unscathed, and that we didn’t have to hurt the mother of those cubs,” Rye said. “In the millisecond I had to get a look at them, they were kind of cute.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Vick asked. “Because you mentioned something about grizzly cubs being cute.”

  “You look like you’re about to faint,” Rye said.

  Vick snorted a sound that could have been a laugh. “Look who’s talking. You’re trembling like a leaf in a windstorm.”

  “Yeah, well, I saw my whole life flash before my eyes when I realized I had no chance to get my rifle off my shoulder before that grizzly got to me. And by then, it was too late to get to the bear spray on my belt.”

  “We were lucky we had the wind at our backs when I used that spray,” she said. “Or we might have gotten a snootful of that stuff ourselves.”

  Rye released Vick as she pulled away and took a step back, then watched as she bent to retrieve the empty can of spray.

  “Can you open my backpack and drop this in for me? I don’t want to litter in the park.”

  “Litter? We were almost toast, and you’re worried about litter?” Rye laughed until he was bent over double. With relief that they’d survived unharmed. And joy that he had a whole life ahead of him with this woman…if he could just convince her that he was a man worth loving.

  VICK FELT TOTALLY wiped out. She’d never killed any animal, much less a grizzly, and shooting Goldilocks had been a horrible experience. Her heart still felt unsteady, fluttering and juddering and a little out of whack. But it wasn’t just the two grizzly encounters that had her off-kilter. It was the stunning revelations Rye had made when he’d been forced into talking as they tracked Goldilocks.

  It was a mistake keeping my distance from you for so long.

  I could have been—should have been—loving you, instead of despising you.

  I thought I’d found my soul mate.

  Each extraordinary revelation suggested that Rye had been thinking of her in different terms than she’d ever imagined. Nevertheless, she questioned his statements.

  Could you really shut off feelings like you fixed a leaky faucet? Was it possible to simply forget the past and move forward as though it had never happened? Was there really such a thing as a “soul mate,” or was that the sort of romantic fantasy grown-ups put aside as they got older and wiser?

  She and Rye had at least an hour of talking to do before they got back to where they’d left the county’s snowmobile, but a knot of fear in her gut, as debilitating in its own way as what she’d felt facing the grizzly, kept her from asking about Rye’s romantic intentions. It was easier to address other issues.

  “Does the ranch belong to your mom?” she asked as they began walking. “Or to you and Mike and Amy Beth?”

  “It passed to Mom on Dad’s death,” Rye said. “Why do you ask?”

  “It occurred to me that it might be difficult for you to keep Angus out of the house if your mom wants him there, since the ranch belongs to her.”

  Rye was holding his bear spray in one hand, but he swiped the other across his chin. “This relationship of hers with Angus is a real ball of worms. I don’t see Flynn sitting on his thumbs if he moves in, which means he’s going to want a say in running the ranch. That’s been my job since Dad died. To be honest, there’s nothing else I’d rather do, and nowhere else I’d rather be. So where does that leave me?”

  “Have you asked your mother what she wants? Maybe she isn’t so anxious to run off with Angus Flynn as you think.”

  “I saw them together at the hospital. When she looked at him her eyes…glowed. It was like she was lit up from the inside. I know that sounds stupid—”

  “No, it doesn’t. You’re saying she comes alive when she’s with him.” Vick knew the feeling. She’d experienced it with Rye.

  “I never thought of it quite that way, but maybe you’re right. I know she hasn’t been happy, but I thought she was just missing Dad.” His voice had an edge as he added, “While she’s really been missing Flynn.”

  “Her relationship with Angus doesn’t diminish what she had with your father,” Vick argued. “Darcie didn’t die with your dad. She’s allowed to love—and be loved—again. Don’t you want that for her?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No ifs, ands, or buts. Do you want her to have a full life? Or not?”

  “I want her to be happy!”

  “Then you have to find a way to get her together with Angus Flynn. I’m not saying you have to let him move in,” she said, when he opened his mouth to object. “There may be other alternatives you haven’t considered.”

  “Like what?”

  “Angus is incredibly wealthy. He can afford to buy a home here in Montana with a few acres of land where he and your mother can live, close enough so she can easily stay in touch, but with enough distance so Flynn isn’t trying to run your life.”

  One of those dangerous silences ensued, while Rye absorbed what she’d said.

  At last he said, “I don’t want to talk about Angus and my mom anymore. I want to talk about us.”

  Vick was startled enough to trip over a ridiculously tiny stone in her path and lose her balance. Rye caught her arm to keep her upright, but she reflexively jerked free. He shot her a questioning look, and Vick realized she was reacting as she would have in the past, when touching was off-limits. It wasn’t as easy to shrug off all the years Rye had kept her at arm’s length as he seemed to think.

  “I’m not sure talking will solve anything,” she said.

  “I’ve told you my feelings. I haven’t heard yours.”

  The knot tightened in her belly. She glanced at him, then put her eyes back on the rugged terrain in front of her. “What is it you want me to say, Rye? That I have feelings for you? I do, but they’re pretty confused right now. It wouldn’t have made much sense to let myself fall in love with you, would it? I mean, you’ve wanted nothing to do with me for years. Suddenly, you say your feelings have done a one-eighty. How do I know they won’t change back again?

  “I want to believe in happily ever after,” she said, swallowing over the painful knot of emotion in her throat. “I’m just not sure I do.”

  “So do we pursue this ‘thing’ between us and see where it leads? Or not?” he asked.

  Vick felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice,
unsure whether the fall would kill her if she leapt, or whether she would end up flying. But if she didn’t take the risk and jump, she would never know for sure.

  She met Rye’s gaze with guarded eyes and said, “I’m willing, if you are.”

  She heard him release a breath of air she hadn’t realized he’d been holding. All he said was “Good.”

  RYE FELT SICK to his stomach, and his head was pounding. He’d slept intermittently, waking twice in a panic, once with a grizzly’s teeth crunching his skull and once with his face being ripped off by a grizzly’s claws. At 4:13 a.m., he’d finally given up on sleep. He sat slumped at the kitchen table with a cold cup of coffee in front of him, conceding in disgust that his life was in shambles.

  However badly he’d acted in the past, he intended to spend the rest of his life loving Vick. All he had to do was convince her—he wasn’t quite sure how—that he would be there for her through thick and thin, that no matter what calamities they faced, he would never abandon her the way her mother and father apparently had.

  First, he had to get his mom’s situation with Angus worked out. He’d decided the best way to start was to take Vick’s suggestion and simply ask his mom what she wanted to do. He told everybody at the breakfast table, which included a suspicious Amy Beth, a surprisingly shy Vick, and a rambunctious Cody, that he had some work to do on the range. Then he got into his pickup and headed straight for Kalispell.

  Rye had expected to find his mom at Mike’s bedside, but when he stepped into the room, Mike was wide awake and all alone. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Not even a hello? Or a how are you? I’m fine by the way. Itchy as hell from all the stitches healing, but well on the road to recovery, thank you.”

  Rye laughed and said, “My bad. How are you?”

  “Never better.”

  Rye pursed his lips at Mike’s sarcasm and perched his hip on the edge of his bed. Because of his own recent experience, he had a new awareness of what Mike might be dealing with besides his physical injuries. “Do you have nightmares about the attack?”