up his courage. Now he would say or do something of a romantic nature. Tell her
how pretty she looked, or run his fingertips over her cheek, or lightly brush the
hair back off her forehead. She closed her eyes and, finally, he touched her. His
greasy finger briefly tapped the tip of her nose.
“Ick! What’s that?” Her eyes sprang open and she pushed his hand away.
“Ugh! It stinks something awful.”
“Hold still.” He dabbed her cheeks with more of the disgusting concoction.
“Now rub it in. It will keep the flies and mosquitoes off you. Make sure to get
some on your wrists and ankles.”
“That stuff would keep the devil away from a lost soul,” she said, but obeyed
and witnessed its immediate effect.
“Maybe now you’ll be able to hold still,” he said. He leaned back against the
tree and they sat through another long silence.
“How long are we going to sit here?” she asked.
He paused before asking, “You don’t much care for this new life of yours, do you?”
It sounded like a criticism and she hesitated a moment before answering.
“Well … I do get bored,” she said, shifting around so she could see his face.
“There’s nothing to do but work. Nobody to visit with or anything. No books.
No music.”
“Nothing to do.” He put his head back and looked up. “I never have
understood folks who prefer drinking tea in someone’s front parlor to this.” He
held his palms up and let his eyes run over the forest ceiling. “Or think someone
sawing on a fiddle makes better music than the sound of this river or the wind in
the treetops.”
“It’s beautiful.” She followed his gaze. “Of course, it’s beautiful. But after an
hour sitting in the same place, you pretty much get the idea.”
“Shh…” He tensed and peered at the far bank of the river.
She began to regret not having brought her shotgun. He rose to a squat and took small crab-like steps to move behind the tree, as far into the bushes as he
could get. Olivia squeezed herself in beside him. He put his finger to his lips again and pointed toward the river.
On the other side of the river, about fifty yards upstream, a black mamma
bear and two cubs lumbered out of the woods. Olivia gasped and Jeremy softly
shushed her again, without taking his eyes off the bears as they waddled toward
the water. The mother put out a paw to test one of the rocks in the river before
carefully stepping onto it. She kept her head down, watching the water, facing Olivia and Jeremy. The two cubs clumsily chased one another and one of them
let out a sudden growl. The mother jerked her head up and lost her balance. All
four paws flailed and she slid into the river. The current wasn’t strong and she easily swam ashore and pulled herself out, slow and deliberate. Olivia imagined
her counting to ten, trying not to lose her temper.
The mother bear ignored her cubs, shook herself off, and returned to her
perch on the rock. Then one of the cubs tried to join her, snuggling up to her side, but the mamma moved her body in a way that said, “Not now.” The cub wouldn’t leave her alone and finally, with a look as exasperated as any human mother Olivia had ever seen, mamma batted a paw at it and sent it sprawling into
the river. Olivia gasped again as its head went underwater, but it bobbed back up
