Page 11 of Savage Protector
“Don’t shoot. Please!” Bailey hollers from the house and the bear takes his attention toward her.
Fucking hell!
“Please don’t shoot,” she repeats, slower this time.
“Would you rather I wrestle him down?”
“No. Maybe just let him go.” Her voice is trembling.
What the hell?
“Let him go? He’s going to kill me!” I’m still staring at the bear as I talk, though in reality, he seems less interested in me and more interested in the fish in my bucket.
Bailey hollers again, “He’s just living his life! Please don’t!”
So that’s what this is about? She doesn’t want us killing the bear at all?
Why the hell do I want to listen to her? Why do I want to let this big bastard go? I shouldn’t. We’re here to do a job. Everyone in town wants us gone. So, then why do I want to listen to her? Why don’t I want to shoot this animal? Why do I want to go back inside and hold her knowing I did what made her happy?
No. I came here to shoot a bear, so I’m shooting the bear.
I cock my gun and aim, sucking in a deep breath before I pull the trigger.
“Please!” she shouts down from the house. “Please!”
The bear, who couldn't care less what threat I am to him, ambles over to my bucket, and carries it off as though I’ve fished just for him. Three lake trout and a side of live bait lost.
“Fuck!” I throw my gun over my shoulder and make my way toward the house with no food, my auger, my pole, and a rumbling stomach.
The worst part is, I kind of like her convictions. The backwards way of her thinking. The part where she’s a fucking game warden who doesn’t want me to kill a bear that’s terrorizing the town. They should write about her in psychology journals. The woman who agrees to hunting, but onlycertainanimals.
I have so many things I can debate regarding this, and when I step up on the front porch, I do. “What makes that bear’s life any more important than the elk in my freezer?”
She opens her mouth and closes it again. “Elk aren’t protected. Grizzlies haven’t been seen in Colorado for years, and—”
“Right… because they’re dangerous and people shot them. If I had a couple of kids playing out back today, I’d like to know there wasn’t a grizzly bear lurking around. Wouldn’t you?”
She sighs. “You’re twisting my words around. That bear hasn’t hurt anyone. He’s just hungry.”
“He should be hibernating.”
“But he’s not. Maybe he’s special.”
“Special? He’s special alright. You can’t tell anyone this story. I’ll get ripped apart.”
She bites back a grin and pretends to zip her mouth closed. “I made you something to eat.”
My brows wrinkle. “You said you didn’t have food. And what are you doing up on your ankle? You should be resting.”
“I live in the middle of nowhere. Of course, I have food. Not a lot, but some. And my ankle is fine. I still need to move.”
“Then why did you tell me you didn’t have enough food?”
She twists her long hair to the side and sits at the table she’s set. “If we’re stranded for days, I don’t have enough. You’re the one that ran outside like you were on fire.”
I stare down at the meal she’s made. Tomato soup, sandwiches, and she’s even got a coffee cake set on the counter. Now that I’ve warmed up, it’s hard to miss the savory sweet scent circulating in the small cabin.
Leaving my boots and coat at the door, I settle at the table with a huff. “What’s going on?”