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I guffaw, “Bullshit. You are impulsive. If I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it hundreds of times.”
As soon as I say the words, I realize I’ve stepped in a pile of trouble.
She whirls around with fire blazing in her narrowed eyes. “Hunter Roman. YOU have no right to judge me or tell me what to do. I’m my own woman and I’m buying my own damned house. I’m not like my mother, and I do not capitulate to everything a man thinks or wants!”
I hold up my hands in a peace offering. “All I’m saying is putting in a contract on the first option is impulsive, you have to admit it.”
She brushes past me, back toward the trail. “I can’t stand you. I don’t know why I ever went along with Kat’s stupid idea. Why any woman would want to spend time with you, I have no clue.”
Her hair snaps side to side as she stomps off.
Well, that went great.
I drop down onto a park bench that has been conveniently placed on the overlook and take in the sights. Might as well enjoy the view since I’m not going to get to enjoy the company.
Twenty minutes have passed when I finally stand up. No point in rushing off. I expect to find Rachel waiting at the truck when I get back. Taking my time, I amble down the dirt trail.
I’ve covered half a mile when I come to a halt. What was that sound?
Holding my breath tv, I strain to listen. There it is again. It’s a voice coming through the scrubby trees. And it sounds distressed. Up ahead, I see the marker for another trail. This one is marked High Loop.
I turn onto the trail and speed up my steps. The trail is rockier and dry, and quickly becomes steep.
The voice is much clearer. “Scram! Get away!”
My alarm bells start ringing. “Hello!” I shout.
“Help! Help me!”
Oh shit. That’s Rachel’s scared voice.
“Rachel?”
“Hunter. Help me! It’s a cougar. She’s—”
Her voice drops off suddenly. A scream echoes in the trees.
My pulse pounds in my temples. I grab a fallen tree branch. I shout, “Rach! Where are you?”
She doesn't respond. Then, I hear another yelp. My heart drops to the soles of my feet. I scramble over the rocks heading up the hillside.
“Rachel, where are you?!?”
A low growl stops me in the middle of the trail.
There it is. A big cougar is staring me down.
It’s hunkered low a hundred feet up the trail. I raise my arms in the air. I roar, “Grrrrrrrrrrr. Get the hell out of here!”
She crouches for a second and growls a deep, primal sound out through her chest. Her nose is twitching. I wave my arms and the stick. “Get the fuck out of here!” I snarl and snap my teeth. Stomp my foot on the ground. She tenses, then suddenly, turns and runs from me.
I gasp for breath. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Then, I start yelling, “Rach! Rachel, where the fuck are you?”
I hear some scraping sounds. “Help, I’m down here.”
I scramble to the edge of the trail. It’s a steep drop off and I try to get close without going over. Laying on my belly, I scoot close to the edge, praying that the cougar doesn’t see my vulnerable position.
My heart stutters when I see Rachel a dozen feet below. I take her in quickly. She’s alive and breathing and there are no gaping bite marks on her. Thank fuck.
