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After all, I didn’t care much about humans to begin with and yet, I cared about this woman.
Between getting so angry at her decision to go into the mountains alone with the guide and the urge I had to make the man pay for what he did to Carrie, I was getting far too involved. I knew that there was a difference between saving her and doing what was necessary to get her home and falling into the trap of making her situation personal.
On more than one occasion, I had not only thought about, but also acted upon the presumption that this was personal; that I had something to protect in Carrie.
I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to her, but that wouldn’t have changed how I felt. I would’ve still had unsubstantiated anger against the situation and if I hadn’t at least told her how I felt, I might have done something I regretted.
Yet, I still wanted a purpose for feeling anything toward this woman. I didn’t owe her anything and she certainly didn’t owe me anything. What was the connection, that I apparently deemed important?
I wasn’t sure and if I couldn’t figure out a good enough reason, I knew that I was going to have to lose these thoughts and urges as soon as possible, or I was doomed.
This was another reason, an active defiance against my feelings.
“I hope the bastard fell into a trap and got eaten alive by a mountain lion,” I thought aloud and turned back toward the cabin.
Even though I had settled on not going after the man, I still found myself focusing on certain aspects along the area surrounding the cabin. I was painfully alert and found distracting potential of an intruder every couple of yards.
Thankfully, I was good at deciphering between animal and human, but I didn’t stop before ensuring that the sound Jake heard the night before really wasn’t anything to worry about.
Chapter 7:
Carrie
The large dog seemed to like me a lot. Even when his owner stomped out of the cabin, the dog chose to stay with me, which was comforting, in a way.
I was angry and upset over the argument that Johnathan and I had, and the dog seemed to know that.
I wanted to burst out in tears, first to let out the pent-up emotion that plagued me over exactly what had happened to me and second, because I was upset at the confrontation. However, I didn’t want to cry in front of the dog. While I wasn’t quite sure why that was, considering it was just a dog, I forced my emotion away, swallowing hard.
After Johnathan left, the dog picked his head up and stared at me with wide eyes. I grinned quietly at the dog before sighing.
Carefully, the massive dog picked himself up off the floor and sauntered over to me, before easily resting his head on the side of the bed.
He was so cute and strangely comforting.
I knew I probably shouldn’t touch the dog, but if he was going to attack me, I was sure he would have done it already.
Looking into the dog’s eyes, I couldn’t help but think that he seemed to understand that I was scared. His eyes were huge and for such a large animal, his eyes were gentle and kind.
Carefully, I reached out my hand, letting him smell me. He licked my hand carefully, before diving his snout under my hand, indicating he wanted me to pet him.
Cautiously, I stroked his head. His hair was soft and as I grew more comfortable with the dog, I felt some of my anxiety melt away.
I grinned, “Hi boy…What’s your name?”
At my excited tone, he started wagging his tail and raised up, revealing a tag.
Even though I was unsure of why I felt this way, I was surprised by seeing a collar and a tag, like a dog who lived in a suburban neighborhood, instead of deep in the mountains.
The bone tag was old and scratched but through the wear, I could make out the simple name: Jake.
“Hi, Jake,” I tried, which caused the dog’s tail to wag more, as he leapt up and licked my face. “Good boy!” I giggled, petting him as he nearly knocked me over, “Yes, who’s a good boy? You’re so friendly!”
Eventually, though, Jake settled back down, laying on the bed next to me, with his large, heavy head in my lap. I pet his head for a few minutes in silence before I started to talk to him again.
“So, what’s the deal with Johnathan? Does he hate me? Does he really think I’m as stupid as he claimed?”
Of course, the dog didn’t answer, but he did seem to be paying attention to me. His big eyes looked up at me, keeping my gaze.
