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“Is she getting the firewood?” Andy sat down on the couch, having to get off his ankle.

“She’s trying to. I don’t think Denny could have done so, either. We need to find his gun. I’ll go out and get some firewood.”

“As a bear?”

“Yeah. I think that’s the only way to do it. I’ll send her back inside, and you can cuff her. Then I’ll get the firewood. When I return, I’ll look for the gun. We can question him when he comes to if I don’t find it.”

“All right.”

Monica went to the front porch and said, “Come on in, Helen. It looks like you won’t be able to free any firewood from the log pile.”

Helen began trudging back through the snow. Tears streaking down her cheeks were frozen. “But we need some more firewood.”

“Tell me where he put the gun, and I’ll get the firewood.”

“It’s on the bookcase.”

“I’ll get it.” Andy used the couch to maneuver around it and reach the bookcase.

Helen finally reached the house. She pulled off her gloves, hat, goggles, and parka.

Monica put a handcuff on her one hand and then the other, and cuffed her. “Sit over there on the loveseat for now.”

“What did you do to Denny?”

“He’s taking a nap. He’ll probably have a headache when he wakes.” Monica went outside and shut the door.

Andy made his way over to the window and watched Monica. She had already removed her clothes, dropped them on the piled-up snow next to the door, and shifted. As a bear, she ambled over to the woodpile, reached it, and slid the snow off the top of one group of logs.

Then she slammed her good arm into the stacked-up wood on top, knocking three pieces off. She grabbed one in her mouth and walked upright back to the house.

He assumed her injured hand hurt too much from running on it like a bear. He opened the door, carried the log into the living room, and put it next to the fire to dry out.

Helen’s mouth hung agape. “How did she manage to get a log? I don’t think Denny could have even gotten them loose as high as the snow is piled up on them, and they’re frozen together. I certainly couldn’t budge them.”

“She’s stronger than you give her credit for.” Monica was remarkable, and that was all Andy could think of as he returned to the window to watch her as she walked back with another log.

He figured she’d only bring the three she had knocked loose, but she had whacked another four off the stack and carried them back the same way. Once she was done, she shifted and dressed. At least he was there to assist her.

After shutting the door, they moved into the living room. He helped her out of her gloves, goggles, hat, and parka, then pulled an ace bandage from her backpack first aid kit and wrapped it around her injured hand. “It’s time for us to rest.”

“We need to handcuff them to something so they can’t harm us while we sleep,” she said as he pulled off her boots. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Once we have secured them, we can rest. It wouldn’t do for them to get hold of our guns or knock us out.” Or worse.

She spoke low for his ears only. “I liked resting together as bears.” She smiled at him. “But being by a warm fire will work too.”

Not the same as being in bed together, he was thinking. What he wouldn’t give to curl up with her on a soft mattress, covered in blankets, and sleep their injuries away. And more. He already had the hots for her, feeling protective and admiring her dedication to her job, as well as her tender ministrations to ensure his foot was warm enough on the journey.

He looked around the room and noticed the kitchen bar had brass poles on three sides holding up the countertop. A long storage cabinet held up the rest of the countertop. “Those brass poles should work.”

“I agree.”

They dragged Denny to the pole in one corner of the bar and handcuffed him around it.

“You can’t do that tome. I have my rights,” Helen shouted from the loveseat.

Andy suspected she was trying to rouse Denny, but he was still dead to the world.