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I slowly rose from my spot and heard a twig snap behind me.
“RUN!” Weston suddenly shouted and shot into the air. I took off as quickly as my feet could carry me, the sound of the gun echoing through the forest. The pounding that was in my ears rang around me as Weston began running in my direction. He started to shout and yell random sounds, swinging his arms and looking quite terrifying. Staring at whatever was crashing behind me. The ferocity in his face looked primal, animalistic.
“Faster. You have to go faster!” he bellowed at me. Fear ripped through me, propelling me farther forward as he fired into the air again with the shotgun. His feet moved quicker and he roared into the air like a hungry lion ready to tear its prey to pieces as the gap between us was closing.
I took a chance and glanced over my shoulder to see what was so terrifying.
Mistake. The biggest mistake I could’ve made was looking behind me.
Chapter 16
Amassive black bear was barreling directly towards me. The pounding that I’d thought had been blood in my ears was him chasing me. And this bear, sights locked onto me, was so close, too close. I wasn’t going to make it.
“WESTON!” I screamed, shear panic racing through my blood. He was also an arm’s length away in front of me.
“Keep going!” he shouted and kept running as I passed beside him. Another shot rang out into the air as he bellowed again. This time the black bear roared back. A few more steps, and I crashed into the four-wheeler, barely able to breathe. Keaton and Butch watched behind me, and I slowly turned around to find Weston and the black bear in a stare down. Neither one was moving. Both chests were rising and falling quickly, steam coming from both figures.
The black bear was on all fours, a crazed look in its eyes. Another lull, silence expanding the meadow. My heart raced and my lungs burned as I watched Weston stare down a bear, his back towards me. I couldn’t lose him. Not yet.
“Weston,” I whispered, my entire frame trembling and suddenly Weston lunged towards the bear, waving his arms wide. The black bear stumbled a few steps backwards, actually intimidated. Weston stopped moving once more as the bear took a few more staggering steps away and then turned around and disappeared into the tree line.
Weston remained facing away, tightly gripping the shotgun as the three of us at the four-wheeler breathed out in relief. Relief that he was okay, that I was okay. We waited for a moment longer before I saw his shoulders sag, and he turned around, slowly beginning to head our way.
His eyes remained trained on the ground before him, tucked under the hat and gripping the shotgun tightly. My body heated up with odd desire as I watched him stalk back in our direction. Powerful. Strong. I couldn’t quite form a coherent thought as he returned, edging away with a deliberate motion from the forest line.
And then I screamed.
Out from the trees, off to Weston’s right, came the bear. Barreling straight toward the person that had just saved my life. He whipped his entire body towards the black beast that was crashing through the forest. And pointed the shotgun directly at the bear.
A shot rang out, echoing through the mountainside and silencing the world around us as the bear collapsed.
“Weston,” I whispered, immediately leaving the four-wheeler and sprinting towards him. The bear grunted, his chest rising once more, and then he was still. Just in front of Weston. Just before his claws could have reached the man who’d not hesitated to run directly at a bear to protect me.
I reached Weston who still had the shotgun pointed at the now dead bear with a shell between his teeth. He was breathing steadily, intensely staring at the animal.
“I don’t get it,” he muttered as I stopped beside him. My eyes raked over where I’d run from, the bear’s tracks on top of most of mine. Then I swung them back to the black fur that bristled in the wind.
“I don’t get it,” he mumbled again, and I placed a hand on his forearm. His head twitched my way, dangerous eyes meeting mine and then softening. His entire body softened as he lowered the gun, pulling the shotgun shell from his teeth and shoving it back into his pocket.
“What don’t you get?” I asked.
“Why didn’t he just continue on his way? He’d already turned around and left. Why’d he come back? He wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t come back.” Weston swallowed, ran a hand over his mustache, and then looked sharply past me.
His demeanor changed as he took charge. “Butch, I have to stay here. Go call Fish and Wildlife and tell them what happened, then lead him back here. Keaton, you need to go home.”
“Yes, sir,” Butch replied and scooted forward on the wheeler, turning the engine on.
“You go too, Tenley,” Weston softly said to me.
I shook my head. “No. I’m not leaving.” I let my hand fall from his forearm, and his eyes flickered to where my touch had last been.
“Go. I’ll be fine.”
I literally plopped myself down in the snow and crossed my arms over my chest. “No.”
He closed his eyes and a half smile lifted at the edge of his lips. “Yes, ma’am.” Weston nodded towards Butch and the wheeler’s engine slowly faded away. Weston rested the butt of the shotgun into the snow and sat down beside me, our bums were going to go numb quickly, but I didn’t care. Yet.
We sat in silence. I could see the wheels spinning in his head and scooted a little closer to him. My leg brushed his, pulling him from whatever thoughts were crashing through his head. The adrenaline that had been coursing through me from fear was ebbing away, and I was becoming tired.
