Rescue Me(3)

“I fell. I just fell right off the edge and hit the rock. And I think I might have knocked myself out, but then suddenly, there was the bear . . . just on me. I thought—yeah, I should play dead. And . . .” Her eyes widened, and she closed her mouth, swallowed, as if she were sucked back to that moment.

“Bella,” Sam said quietly. “You’re safe now.” He pulled off his jacket, wrapped it around her.

She looked at him. “He sniffed me. A lot. And . . . I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t smell good, because then suddenly he just walked away. And I thought maybe he was gone, so I scooted back, and I found myself in this cave. And that’s when . . .” She closed her eyes. “That’s when he came back.”

Behind him, he heard Pete on the walkie, calling in their position to PEAK Rescue HQ and asking Kacey for an extraction.

Yes, send in the chopper, soon. Because a press to her neck, at the carotid artery, told Sam that Bella’s blood pressure was dropping.

She could go into shock.

“He slashed at me. I put my arm up over my head and tried not to scream. I don’t know if he couldn’t get to me, but he gave me another swipe and then just . . . left. And I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream because—because . . .”

Quinn pressed his forehead into her neck. He was sobbing.

And probably, Sam should forgive him.

Except, as he stared at this kid, a quiet rage boiled up inside him.

If Quinn hadn’t been so—

“Bro,” Pete said, “the chopper is on the way. We need to get these two down to the gravel pit—”

A roar echoed out of the woods, shivering the trees.

In the silence that followed, Sam’s heart stopped in his chest.

“That’s an angry bear,” Pete said quietly.

Sam scrambled to his feet. “Get her up.” Gage came over, lifted Bella into his arms, then he handed Quinn the flashlight. “Go.”

Quinn took off through the woods, Pete behind him, clearing a path for Gage.

Sam’s feet slipped on the loamy soil, his shirt catching on brambles. Another roar bellowed out, this time closer, and Sam could nearly smell the hoary breath on the breeze, skimming down his shirt, his sweaty back.

Then they hit the trail, turned, and headed toward the pit.

Sam nearly slammed into the back of Gage, who’d stopped.

“What—”

“Shh!” Gage was backing up the trail, Bella curled into his chest. Pete, too, began to back up.

Pete held the ax up in front of them like a shield.

Because there, in the middle of the trail, smelling rank, like pungent, rotted garbage, stood a mama sow.

And just up the path behind Sam, ten feet away, her two precious babes began to bawl.



The perfect night could be summed up with a bowl of popcorn, a Lord of the Rings marathon, a fuzzy blanket, and a golden retriever puppy named Gopher on her lap.

Never mind the bits of toilet paper the pup had strewn around the house; Willow would pick that up as soon as the movie ended. She didn’t want to disturb the ten-year-old snuggled up next to her. Her brown hair tousled, her mouth open in sleep, Thea had surrendered to slumber long before the Orcs attacked Frodo’s measly band.

Royal, age twelve, and too old for a babysitter, thank you, watched the Orcs with wide eyes as he fished out the last of the old maids from the bowl.

Willow still remembered the first time she’d watched The Fellowship of the Ring during one of those precious times when her father had been home on leave.

Willow glanced at the clock. Right about now, her father would be bending his knee and popping the question to Terri, Thea and Royal’s mom. Digging out the black ring box from his flannel shirt. Just like they’d rehearsed.

Willow couldn’t be happier for him.

She watched as Samwise Gamgee waded into the river after Mr. Frodo, until the hobbit deigned to reach out and drag Sam aboard his boat.

That’s what friends—no, family did. They showed up to help each other. At least, that was how she imagined it.

She pulled a pillow from the end of the sofa, then eased the dog off her lap and put the pillow under Thea’s head.

Thea barely moved, and Willow pressed her finger to her mouth as she looked at Royal. As the final credits rolled, she picked up the remote from the coffee table and clicked off the television.

Quiet descended upon the small ranch house, only the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.

Royal picked up his phone and started up a game. Willow gathered up the pizza box and dropped it into recycling. Gopher danced around her feet, his soft brown eyes bright with excitement. He pawed at the door, nearly let out a yip, and she opened it. He ran out into the night.

She followed, prepared to call the pup back to the yard.