Chapter 4

After two weeks Bear would swear there were more than three of them. Every time he turned around, a pint-sized redhead was asking him a question or poking into his stuff. Miriam had organized his traps on their hooks by size, and his books on the shelves by author. Tabitha had taken to playing dress-up with his hat, his winter gloves, his heavy boots, any part of his clothing she could get her hands on. And if Deborah ever stopped talking or moving, he’d never witnessed it. She stuck to him like a cocklebur from sunup to bedtime.

“What’s that?”

“Why do you have such a long beard?”

“Why do people call you Bear? Is it because you growl so much?”

“Can I ride your horse?”

“Why do you have so many guns?”

“Why can’t I try cutting wood with the ax?”

“Can I have a skunk for a pet?”

“Why can’t I go fishing with you?”

All day long, yammer, yammer, yammer. A man had sticky work to escape without one of them following him. And yet, he found himself not minding so much. Their giggling and chattering didn’t set him on edge as often as it had at first.

Bear shouldered his rifle and shifted his grip on the turkey he’d shot for supper. With the leaves turning and the nip in the air, it would be time to bring down a couple of deer or elk and get them smoked before winter set in. With more mouths to feed, he’d have to be sure not to run short.

The cabin came into view as he broke the tree line, and the now-familiar battle set up in his chest. The smoke wafting from the chimney and the knowledge that he wouldn’t be coming home to an empty house warred with the uneasy awareness that he was growing much too fond of the girls.

And not just the girls.

Emmylou had followed his rules to the letter, and yet somehow she still managed to invade nearly every corner of his life, including his thoughts and even his nocturnal dreams. She’d lost that tight-strung look, and though she worked too hard, she had a healthy glow in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. Especially when she was with the girls.

The changes she’d wrought in the cabin were amazing. At first he’d resented every moved item, every sign that he wasn’t the sole proprietor any longer. He’d barely held on to his temper when he’d walked into a clothesline of damp little-girl dresses strung across the cabin one day. And when he saw it was strung from the top bunk to the antlers of his trophy elk, he’d had to walk right back out into the rain. But he’d started coming around to his new way of life. For the first time in a long time, he had a clean shirt whenever he wanted it. He had delicious meals eaten in congenial company. He had companionship that drove away a loneliness he hadn’t known he’d felt.

“Bear’s here!” Deborah bounded from the cabin doorway and skipped down the path. “Lookit that turkey. He’s a whopper.”

He stopped and set his rifle butt on the ground, propping it against his side as he ruffled her hair. “Were you good today?”

Her nose wrinkled, and she squinted up at him. “No worse’n usual.”

It was her customary reply, and he couldn’t help but grin. She was so much like him, it was scary. Bear dropped his hat on her head and hefted his gun once more. Emmylou and the rest of the girls stood in the doorway, and his heart beat a little faster.

“A successful day.” Emmylou reached for the bird, but Bear held it away.

“I’ll pluck and clean it first. That’s no job for a lady.” He handed her the rifle. “If you could get a fire going under the washtub, I’ll scald it.”

Her nod and smile made him feel like the sun had just burst through the clouds. Shaking his head, he rounded the cabin and drew his knife from his belt. How had things changed so quickly? He’d vowed long ago to steer clear of women. He’d long thought himself cured of every ounce of romance or relationship. But now he found himself eager to spend time with “his girls.”

Returning to the cabin with the cleaned bird, Bear handed it over and sank into his chair. He’d made the slat-backed rocker to fit his large frame and draped it with wolf pelts for comfort and warmth. As he leaned back, he waited. Sure enough, little Tabitha—with one of his mufflers draped around her neck and dragging the floor—left the bunk where she’d been playing with the rag doll Emmylou had fashioned for her, and sidled over to him. Her finger went into the corner of her mouth, and she turned her big eyes up to his face.

“What do you want?” He eyed her, pretending to be stern.

“Story.” The little sprite had seen through his gruff exterior before any of the others, and he had a feeling if he didn’t steel himself against it, he’d spend the rest of his life wrapped around her little finger.

“Story, huh?” Leaning down, he lifted her into his lap, where she cuddled back against his chest. It had become their ritual before supper each night. He started in on a continuation of the lives of a family of squirrels he’d made up a week ago.

While he talked, Miriam set the table. Bear couldn’t miss how she took extra care with his place setting, nor how she gave him the biggest slice of bread from the basket.

A man could get used to this.

Deborah hopped around like a flea at a dog show, not appearing to listen to the story but commenting whenever he stopped for a breath.

Firelight bathed Emmylou’s face as she bent over the coals to slide the Dutch oven over the heat. The ease with which she’d sliced up that turkey, made a quick gravy, and whipped up dumplings fascinated him. She sure knew her way around a cook-fire. He’d have roasted that bird whole and had to wait until near midnight for it to be done.

Maybe he should think about dragging a stove up the mountain.

Her skirts swayed with her movements, and fine wisps of hair teased her cheeks. Funny how he’d not thought her much to look at when he first met her. The truth was, Emmylou Paxton … McCall was worth more than a second glance.

Yep, he had a few things to be thankful for.

Best of all was when the girls were ready for bed. Deborah insisted that Bear be a part of tucking them in and hearing their prayers. He was clumsy when it came to brushing hair and tying nightgown strings, but Deborah squealed when he tossed her up on her bunk, and Tabitha giggled when he chucked her under the chin. Miriam was more reserved, but she smiled when he patted her shoulder and tugged the blanket up.

When they were settled, Emmylou poured him another cup of coffee then seated herself near the lamp with one of his shirts and a needle and thread.

“Seems I’ve been pretty hard on my wardrobe.” He settled into his chair with his book. “You’ve been patching and mending every night.” Mostly he just wore something until it wore out, then got a new one. Having her wash and mend his things was a kind of intimacy he hadn’t been prepared for when he’d jumped into this marriage.

“I haven’t even started on the socks.” She smiled, her hands quick as she turned the plaid collar to hide the worn spots. “You’re hard on those, too, and darning isn’t my forte.”

He turned the book to catch more of the lamp and firelight. “It’d be the first thing you weren’t good at. I guess I got the better end of the deal marrying you.”

She was quiet for a moment, and the color in her cheeks entranced him.

“I wouldn’t say so. Compared to where I came from, and compared to what waited for me in Denver, this is very nice.” She didn’t look up.

“Where did you come from?” He set his book in his lap. “I don’t know much about you.”

“Nor I you.” This time she favored him with a quick glance. “I’m from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. I was orphaned when I was about Miriam’s age and sent to live with my aunt and uncle. They had no children, nor any clue what to do with one. Aunt Ida is stern and exacting, and Uncle Henry is cold and remote. I always knew I was a burden to them, that I wasn’t really wanted there. When I saw a copy of the Matrimonial News, I thought it was my way out.”

“Then you got jilted at the train station.” Guilt at his bluntness pricked him when she winced. “I know how you felt.” He rushed on to cover his gaffe. “I got jilted, too. Left at the altar in a new suit and tie. My bride hopped it with the best man at the last minute. He’d come into some money, and I guess she figured the grass was greener on his side of the fence.”

Her hands stilled. “That’s terrible.”

“Sure hurt at the time, but now I’m glad. Meredith was a mistake.”

“What did you do?”

“Sold my farm, left Indiana, came to the mountains to get away from people, women especially.” He chuckled, looking over at the three cherubs who had invaded his life. “I guess God’s got a sense of humor, huh?” He opened his book again.

“Would you mind reading aloud?” Her lower lip disappeared behind her teeth, and she dropped her gaze back to her work.

It was the first time she’d asked him for anything. That strange warm feeling in his chest expanded.

Emmylou shook the rug, sending dust billowing into the crisp morning air just outside the doorway. Behind her Tabitha swished the dishrag around in the washtub water while Miriam swept the cabin floor. Golden aspen leaves floated down around Emmylou. She drew in a deep breath, rejoicing in the peace of this place. Here, no one belittled her. No one made her feel unwanted—not even Bear, who had every excuse to do so. For the first time in her life, she had a purpose, plenty to keep her busy each day, and three little girls she was coming to love dearly.

Then there was Bear.

Even now the ringing of his ax told her where he was, felling logs and dragging them up to begin adding two rooms onto the cabin, one for her and one for him. Once those were completed, she could stop feeling guilty that he had to spend his nights in the toolshed on a hard bedroll. Everything he’d done since she met him had been to provide for her or the girls. He was a provider and protector by nature, even if a gruff one.

And from the moment he’d shared his own ill-fated brush with matrimony, she’d felt a kinship that went beyond their marriage of convenience. He understood the humiliation of being jilted. He understood wanting to get away from the past. He understood what it was like not to be wanted.

Maybe that was why, in spite of his growling and grousing, he made room for the girls in his life. He snuggled Tabitha, answered Deborah’s thousand-and-one questions every day, and made time to compliment and encourage Miriam. It was as if he knew how desperately each of them wanted to be somebody’s little girl.

And the girls were blossoming. All day long it was “Bear” this and “Bear” that. She’d even caught Tabitha telling her dolly the squirrel stories and trying to imitate Bear’s growl.

Then there was the eager, flighty feeling Emmylou got every evening after the girls were asleep and she and Bear settled in front of the fireplace and he read aloud to her. He had a rich, mellow voice, and he’d obviously had good schooling at some point, because his diction was perfect. But more often than not, Emmylou would lose track of the story as she watched the firelight flicker in his brown eyes, the way his big hands held the spine of the book, the way he lounged in his chair, so masculine and certain of himself. That easygoing confidence in his abilities was very appealing to her.

She held the rug to her middle as she surveyed the glade. It would be time to call Deborah in for lessons soon. Miriam and Deborah did schoolwork each day, something Miriam thrived on and Deborah endured.

Emmylou scanned the high meadow. A glimpse of bright color flashed under the trees on the far side of the meadow. Deborah in her blue coat. The cabin never seemed big enough to hold Deborah. What it would be like in winter when she had to stay indoors, Emmylou couldn’t imagine. She’d give her a few more minutes to play.

“Emmylou, can we make cookies for Bear today?” Miriam whisked the dirt over the threshold and stood the broom in the corner behind the door.

That was her Miriam, always looking for ways to serve, especially Bear.

Emmylou paused. Her Miriam. How had these girls snuck into her heart so quickly? Because she really did feel as if they were hers.

Tabitha, with a dish-towel apron slung around her neck, finished “washing” the tin plates while Emmylou gathered the ingredients for cookies. They were just about set to begin mixing when a faraway scream rent the air.

Deborah!

Emmylou dropped the flour sack, sending a cloud of white dust into the air, and ran for the door. “Girls, stay here!” Slamming the door behind her, she scanned the area for Deborah.

Another scream rent the air, nearly drowned out by a ferocious roar. A flash of blue fabric darted through the trees. Scrabbling up into a slender aspen, Deborah climbed as fast as she could.

A monstrous grizzly rose on its hind legs below her, swiping up into the branches, its mouth open and snarling.

Emmylou’s heart slammed into her throat.

Not knowing what else to do, not thinking, only knowing she had to protect Deborah at all costs, Emmylou hiked her skirts and ran straight across the meadow. Her feet flew over the logs spanning the creek, and her hair streamed out, falling from its pins and draping across her eyes like a shawl. She shouted, her voice barely clearing the lump in her throat.

The bear ignored her, planting its huge paws against the tree trunk and shoving. The entire aspen shuddered, and Deborah screamed again.

“Hang on! I’m coming!” The words were snatched away from Emmylou as she ran. Though what she would do when she got there, she didn’t know. All she knew was she had to get to Deborah.

She stumbled in the grass and fell headlong, sprawling and tumbling. Bouncing up, her legs tangled with what had tripped her. A branch. She snatched it up and raced on. Behind her came a masculine shout, but she didn’t stop.

The bear shook the tree again, sending a cascade of leaves floating down. It was so focused on Deborah, it didn’t even notice Emmylou until she swung the branch and cracked it across the bear’s back.

With a roar, the animal dropped onto all fours and swung its boulder-sized head around. Lips snarling, teeth dripping with slobber, another meaty bellow blasted from its throat.

Stunned, Emmylou dropped the branch and backed away. The animal rose again and swatted as she dodged, barely missing her with its rapacious claws.

Deborah’s first scream made Bear drop his ax onto the woodchips at his feet. Emmylou’s shout had him snatching up his rifle and racing across the grass. He spied Emmylou, hair like a red flag behind her, running for all she was worth—toward a grizzly! Was she out of her mind? He thundered after her. Not bothering with the bridge, he leaped the creek. Emmylou tumbled to the ground, arms flailing, but she popped up again, this time dragging something behind her.

“Get down! Lie down and curl up!”

She appeared not to hear him, instead swinging a stick—a stick!—at the angry beast as if she could slap it away like a fly.

She managed to dodge the first swing of a paw, ducking behind the tree trunk, but he knew she wouldn’t get so lucky again. Though farther away than he would’ve liked, he had run out of time. He knelt in the grass a hundred yards away, bracing his elbow on his knee and sighting down the barrel of his rifle.

The gunshot reverberated through the glade. His shoulder absorbed the recoil as he jacked another shell into the gun breech and fired again. The sow bear jerked, but she didn’t stop her pursuit. She swung her head, jaws slavering, darting around the aspen and lumbering toward Emmylou.

Two, three, four shots. One splintered off a tree trunk, but he was sure the others had reached their target. Why didn’t the animal go down?

Emmylou quit dodging and leaped at a spruce tree, climbing the branches, hindered by her skirts. Her sobbing reached him, sending a chill into his core. He snapped off another shot then stood and waved his arm, shouting at the grizzly.

She turned toward him, snarling, and started his way. Fat from a summer of grazing and berry picking, her coat rippled with each ground-eating bound.

Now that she faced him, he knew he would have to break her down in order to stop her. His rifle would never penetrate that skull, not even at this distance. He dropped to his knee again and shot at first one forepaw and then the other.

With his second shot, the bear tumbled, her momentum sending her tail over tip. Before he could relax, she was getting to her feet once more.

He ejected the spent shell. “Stand up, stand up, stand up … Please, God, make her stand up.” Praying that Emmylou and Deborah had the sense to get higher in their trees and stay there, he aimed.

Just as he prayed, the grizzly rose on her hind legs, exposing her belly. This time he paused, let out his breath, held it, and squeezed, aiming just right of center, where her heart would be.

The bear sank to the ground as if her bones had melted. He lowered his rifle, bracing it against the ground and leaning his forehead on his hands where they grasped the warm barrel. His breath came in gulps, and his heart pounded in his ears.

“Boy howdy, did you see that? You sure saved us, didn’t you, Bear? Hey, Bear saved us from a bear.” Deborah shinnied down the tree like a chipmunk, dropping the last couple of feet. She had a leaf in her hair and a dirt smudge on her cheek, but her eyes sparkled, and she grinned at him as if she hadn’t nearly been killed.

Bear’s hands shook, and he swallowed, unable to speak. He felt cold all over, shaky, as if he’d been ill for a long time. The little horror didn’t even know the danger she’d been in. Just thinking of her big eyes and tiny bones, all that life and chatter and motion in the clutches of an angry grizzly, made his knees wobble.

Emmylou descended more slowly, looking as shaky as he felt. A trickle of blood stood out boldly from a cut on her pale temple, and her hair spilled down her shoulders. Spruce needles, twigs, and grass caught in the fiery locks.

He’d almost lost them.

The chill in his belly turned to fire.

“What in thunder did you think you were doing?” His knees firmed up, and he jumped to his feet, towering above them. “That grizzly almost killed you! If I hadn’t come running, you’d be dead right now, the both of you! What were you thinking charging across the meadow like that?”

Emmylou blinked, freezing in her tracks. “I … I … don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He yanked the knife from the scabbard on his belt. He pointed it at Deborah, who was far too unabashed for his sanity. “I told you not to wander, didn’t I? My rules aren’t just suggestions for you to consider. You’re too wild for your own good, and it’s going to stop even if I have to chain you to a chair. Now get back to the cabin and bring my horse and a rope, and don’t you stop to lollygag or chat with the birds, got it?”

Deborah’s lip trembled, and her chin came up a notch. She fisted her hands and blinked hard, turning on her heels and marching toward the house. Bear felt like a heel yelling at her, but by sugar, she needed to be more careful. What if he’d been up at his claim, or walking his trap line?

The moment Deborah was out of earshot, Emmylou gave him an earful he was in no mood to hear.

“You didn’t need to shout at her. She didn’t do anything wrong. She was just playing under the trees. It isn’t as if she enticed a bear close and poked it in the eye.” Emmylou tried to smooth her hair out of her face, but her hands were shaking. She came away with a smear of blood on her hand.

“You were both nearly killed!” How could he make them understand?

“I know. But your rule was to stay within sight of the cabin. Deborah did that. It isn’t her fault that a bear chased her.”

He didn’t know whether to grab her up tight and hold her until he stopped being afraid or shake her until her teeth rattled for scaring him in the first place. To avoid doing either, he began field-dressing the carcass. The sow grizzly would go a good four hundred pounds if she weighed an ounce. Her claws were inches long, capable of eviscerating an elk, and her teeth … His hand shook so that he nearly dropped the knife.

The words wouldn’t stay behind his teeth, no matter how tight he gritted them. “That doesn’t explain what you were doing running right at a grizzly. Talk about a babe in the woods. You need a full-time minder. I never should’ve brought you up here. Not any of you. You had one job to do, look out for the girls, and what do you do? Let one get chased up a tree then put yourself in danger by smacking a bear with a switch. I should’ve sent those girls right back where they came from, and you, too.”

She gasped and flinched as if he’d slapped her. Moisture gathered on her lashes and plummeted down her cheeks. Without a word she lowered her head and turned toward the cabin. He regretted his words before they’d even died away in the crisp air, but he didn’t call her back.