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I finish off a carton of orange juice and settle it onto the counter. This hunt tonight has to go off without a problem and I’m going to need to be as healthy as I can get. Granted, these antibiotics have been staring me in the face for a week and I’ve not touched one. Don’t need that shit either.
I pull out the map and sprawl it out on the table, following the trail through the woods to where I believe the bear travels each night. He comes down into town at dusk and travels back up through the balsam forest at around four. If we can cut him off at the river passing, then we have a chance. If not, we’re fucked. This storm rolling in his huge. It’s possibly the biggest the mountain has seen all season. If we don’t get the bear now, it’ll be weeks before conditions warrant a good hunt again, and the Canadians will be called.
Bottom line, the bear needs to be removed. He’s causing trouble in town and poses a threat to the public. That said, we also have a reputation to maintain. I’ve eliminated menacing cougars out in California, taken out troublesome moose in Montana, and stopped invasive coyotes everywhere in between. Prestige is what keeps big hunts coming. Losing one is like saying we can’t handle it. We can, God damn it!
As I drag my hand across the paper, a light knock hits at the front door. I’m not expecting anyone, and my stomach tightens. I’m sure this is someone from town come to tell me what a pain in the ass we’ve been, or it could be Henry and Maddox again. They own most of the land up here and gave us the go on this hunt. At this point, we could be getting the axe today.
I don’t want to deal with this shit right now. One more day. One more fucking day and we’ll have this damn bear, and we can all move on with our lives.
I storm toward the door and swing it open, shielding my face from the intense sun that filters in with it. Fucking hell, it’s bright. It’s probably the last of it we’ll see until after the storm blows through. I should be out enjoying it, chopping some wood, getting shit ready for the haul home, but studying maps is all I can focus on.
“What do ya want?” I growl out the words and stand in the doorway, holding my arm up to block the light.
“Hello.” A woman’s voice isn’t what I expected. I move my arm down and squint into the sunlight to see a short, curved frame with light blonde hair staring back at me.
My heart stalls and my throat goes dry. “Yes?” I’ve heard this voice before, and though my brain can’t place a name with it, something inside of me begins to smile.
The woman steps forward and reaches out a hand. “I, ugh, I heard you were in town, and I… I don’t know if you remember me. My name is Aspen. We met in Alaska about twenty years ago.”
Jesus Christ!
I’m not a man that’s easily shaken, but right here and now, an earthquake is happening.
“Fuck. Yeah, I remember you. God damn! Come in.”
She lowers her hand and I feel like an ass for not shaking it. What I really want to do is pull her into my arms and squeeze her, but that might be inappropriate, especially considering the exposure therapy I’ve been doing half the morning.
“How the hell have you been?”
Her gaze lifts to meet mine and we’re back in the same spot we were eighteen years ago, moment for moment, like no time has passed. How’s that possible? How could that much time be gone, but I still feel the same exact way? It’s like we’re still in that trading post, saying goodbye. Like I never let her go.
I question for a moment if any of this real. Maybe the boys drugged me with those ‘antibiotics.’ Maybe I’ve passed out and this is all some fantasy my brain has attached to in order to make sense of the drugs coursing through my bloodstream.
“I’ve been good,” she finally says. “Well, not good. Well… good. Some stuff is good. Everleigh is all grown, and off to college this year. She’s a science major, like her father.”
Her father.
I glance down at Aspen’s hand in search of a ring, but the space is bare.
“How’s Shawn… Stewart? I forget his name.”
She grins. “Steve. Yeah, we, ugh, we divorced late last year. He’s good, though. He’s out in Wyoming now doing field research. What about you? How are things? It’s crazy you’re up here.”
“You have no idea.” Words by the dozens filter through my head but none of them stick.
Her divorce is the permission my body has been waiting eighteen years to hear.
And while I know a good man would take his time, I’m done being good.
It was the good in me that let her walk away all those years ago. It was the good in me that valued her marriage and sat in the shadows waiting. It was the good in me that didn’t overcomplicate her life with my feelings.
Now, all of that is gone, and all that’s left is the bad, bad man staring at this angel in front of me.
I cup her face in my hand and stare down at her, looking for some kind of sign. Her blue eyes glitter up toward me and she sighs gently, leaning into my palm.
There it is. The single best sound in the world… surrender.
Her eyes close as my hand wanders to the back of her neck. I pull her in close.
