Page 46

So was her horse. Golden continued bucking and neighing and the sound from the juniper bushes across the creek amplified. Whatever hid behind them thrashed, agitated by Golden’s outburst.

Maggie held her breath, fear coursing through her.

When a tiny black ear and snout came out from behind a bush, her pulse fluctuated between hyperactive and barely registerable.

A black bear cub.

As much as Maggie wanted to smile at the adorableness of the small creature, she wouldn’t make the same mistake city people did when they visited rural Texas. Where there was a baby, there was a mom, and probably not a well-mannered one at that.

“Golden,” Maggie whispered. “Come here, girl.”

The horse had stopped bucking, but her eyes were wide and pinned on the animal across the creek. She bared her teeth.

“Golden, please. Girl, I need you to get out of here safely.” She made an attempt to stand, but her ankle gave out under her. Her fear kicked up a notch.

If Golden left her out here…

No. She wouldn’t panic. Without making big movements, she slid her phone out of her pocket and dialed Marty.

Damn. No answer. The service in the north fields was spotty at best.

“Oh, Dad. What would you do?”

She cringed when the answer came to her.

She dialed the only other person she knew out here and prayed he’d pick up after her curt dismissal of him a couple days ago.

“B-Bennett?” she asked when he finally picked up. But at least he’d picked up.

“Maggie? Are you okay?”

“No,” she answered. Her voice cracked. “I’m at the start of the canyon with a busted ankle and a spooked horse. Oh, and there’s a bear cub watching every move we make.” She hesitated before adding, “I’m worried, Bennett.”

“Shoot. That means there’s a momma nearby.”

“That was my thought.”

“Can you move at all on your feet?”

“I don’t think so, and Golden is petrified. Is there any way you can—”

“I’ll be there in less than ten minutes. Move slowly and keep your eyes on her. No big movements, Maggie.”

“No, that’s okay. I just need you to get ahold of Marty in the north field and have him bring the truck—”

“Maggie, there isn’t time. I’ll be there soon. Head my way as slowly as you can.”

He hung up the phone, and she moved to a boulder at the water’s edge so she could face the cub.

Hurry. Please hurry.

Did she have ten minutes before a curious momma bear came traipsing through the woods wondering what her cub was up to?

Thankfully, only eight minutes later the sound of hooves interrupted Maggie’s spiraling thoughts about coming face-to-face with a hungry, mad momma bear, which she’d decided was markedly worse than facing Bennett so soon after their last interaction. She may not have the best life to get back to, but she certainly didn’t want it cut short.

“Over here,” she called out. The bear cub ducked behind the bush as Bennett came racing down the path. His jaw was tight, his eyes laser-focused.

“Maggie,” he breathed out. “You’re okay.” He jumped out of his saddle and assessed Maggie from head-to-toe before kneeling in front of her wounded ankle.