Page 23 of A Bear's Journey

Wolves.

Olivia’s vision started narrowing, the blackness tunneling in from the outside of her vision. She could see the veins in her eyes, and she started sweating again. Her legs wouldn’t work, but she was vaguely aware of Austin, standing next to her, gently taking her by the shoulder and saying her name over and over again.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, but then she was hyperventilating, breathing much too fast. White sparkles in front of her eyes, her hands shaking.

Her bear roared, and she could feel the very beginning of a shift coming on, her skin breaking into fur, her fingers into claws.

Then Austin was guiding her off to the side, his big, gentle hands on her shoulders. Sitting her down on a bale of hay.

“Put your head between your knees,” he said, softly. “Close your eyes and breathe deep.”

Olivia tried.

Her therapist had told her, once, to think of an hourglass when she felt panicked like this, to think of the sand slowly sifting through to the bottom. Making a perfect pyramid, everything taking its own sweet time, no sounds but the very, very soft sound of sand on sand.

Austin’s hand rubbed her back. Olivia thought of sand, of a pile at the bottom of a glass getting bigger, and that was all she thought of.

She took a deep breath and could feel the cold air hit the bottom of her lungs. It felt good. She took another and another. Now she was imagining that she exhaled sand and it fell to the ground between her feet, forming that perfect pile.

At last, she opened her eyes to see the grass between her feet strewn with straw, her vision no longer narrowed and sparkly.

“You’re all right,” Austin said. He wasn’t asking a question, he was telling her.

Olivia put her elbows on her knees, still looking down at the grass, and nodded.

“I’m all right,” she repeated.

“I’ll take you back home,” he said.

Instead of answering, Olivia looked up and into the barn. There was a temporary wooden floor, and people in flannel shirts and cowboy boots were holding hands, spinning around and laughing, then switching partners and doing it again.

In front was a man wearing both a denim shirt and jeans. A huge belt buckle divided the two denim regions of his body as he chanted dance steps to the dancers. Behind him were a fiddler and a banjo player.

It looked like fun.

“No,” Olivia said.

She took another deep breath, clenching her jaw against the wolf scent that made her head spin, but inhaling anyway.

“I want to go. I’m okay.”

These are different wolves, she reminded herself. How angry would I be if someone generalized about bears?

“I don’t mind taking you home,” Austin said. “I swear.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Olivia said. “If I’m having a bad time in fifteen minutes, we’ll go.”

Austin smiled.

“Okay,” he said.

Olivia walked into the barn, her palms still sweaty. The inside was much warmer than the outside, a welcome respite from the cool air outside, and she took a moment, looking around.

The two of them made their way over to a seating area of some sort, though it was really nothing more than hay bales scattered to give the appearance of seating.

I guess this is country living, Olivia thought, sitting on one. The spikes of hay stuck through her jeans a little, making the backs of her thighs itch. Hay bales for seating. All right.

“You mind if I grab a beer from the refreshments?” Austin asked, jerking one thumb over his shoulders. His mouth twitched up into a smile. “You done freaking out?”

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