Page 35 of Taming Her Bears

I let out my breath in a big, “Ah! So that’s how they move up the line. But with us, it’s all even-Steven, right?”

“Right and right,” she said. “That is a good way to move up the line, and if one of you fucks up, you’ve all fucked up.”

I’m learning. They should give girl lessons out there in the wilderness. Women are a whole different species. They talk hard, but they’re soft. They act mean, but they’re gentle. And they’re smart. She didn’t bring up the subject again that night, but she let us know what we would be missing when she was gone. I never felt a touch that caused me to tingle the way hers did. Goosebumps went up and down my spine as she kissed me on the neck and chest, her hand steadily moving downward.

I don’t know how she did it, making it all about me, but giving to them as well. Her legs draped over mine like silk, yet the hands that touched her were not my own. Her fingertips traveled lightly down my arms then wrapped around my wrists as her rhythm changed from lingering strokes to the hot-throated pants of passion. She left me in a complete stupor, yet at the same time, so completely aware of how short and precious these moments of bliss truly were. She also left me feeling vulnerable, for those moments were the only times I felt completely human.

That awareness knotted up in my stomach muscles and nagged at the back of my brain like a schoolteacher. I began to regret how carelessly we had spent our early days with Natalia. We should have been storing those moments up like seashells. She wanted a house; we would build her a house. We would buy property on the moon if that was what she wanted.

When I took her in my arms, all I wanted was to satisfy her in any manner she pleased. I cupped her wonderful breasts gently, giving them the respect they deserved. I tasted the sweet honey perspiration of her flesh, buried myself deeply inside her while the red sun on her belly writhed and glowed.

She let matters rest for the night while we remained saturated with her pleasures. She didn’t in the morning. Josh had a combined meeting with the harbor master and the military police, wrapping up the report on the murders, and Darkhorse was taking Roy with him to visit the district attorney concerning the kidnappings, but did not want me to come along—leaving me in the capable hands of Natalia. I figured we’d have a good jaunt through the town, maybe buy a few souvenirs, so I dressed to look sharp in my officer’s uniform. It was the right call. Mama Bear gave me a smile that made me feel like a million-dollar project. She straightened my jacket at the shoulders and brushed it off. She corrected the angle of the cap and tucked back my hair. “Petty Officer Brightwater, you are to accompany me to the Pioneer Lounge.”

I knew about the joint but had never been there. It was one of those places used by the sports fishermen who spent hundreds of dollars on charter boats. It was far enough from town and close enough to the sea to feel wild and adventurous, yet the first grocery store and gas station were just five minutes away. Two float planes snuggled in the small cove that curved to one side of the lounge, with two other planes perched on a small, private runway.

It was a nice enough spot. It had the standard, rustic thing going on with a central fireplace, giant windows, lots of fat leather chairs and tables set in strategically scenic spots, and a bar. The food was renowned, but it was expensive. A soda pop was expensive here, nearly three dollars for a can poured over ice.

Despite its name, the Pioneer didn’t cater to locals. It catered to tourists. Practically everybody in the lounge looked up and turned their heads when they saw an officer of the Coast Guard walk in with a local girl by his side. Some even whispered to each other. Teenagers in short shorts and puffy vests, dying of boredom in the wild setting, twisted the ends of their hair and twittered between themselves when they saw me. The out-of-shape wives of the sportsmen, positive they wanted the Great Alaskan Adventure until they experienced it, looked at Natalia with their lips compressed angrily together as though she was personally responsible for luring their men into untamed country.

I thought we were going to have one of those cappuccinos she likes so much, then leave, but instead of walking toward a table, she waited by the bar until someone with a familiar scent came up behind us and tinkled, “Natalia, you made it—and you managed to drag one of your boys along. He’s gorgeous. Are you going to introduce us?”

I swiveled my stool away from the bar to face her. Rhoda looked a lot better than when she was first brought home. She had looked like a rubber doll, her face waxy, her eyes dull and vague. Now, she was clean and healthy again. She had the kind of prettiness you see in prom queens—nice skin, girlish features, dimples, big smile full of perfect ivory teeth. She was a little smaller than Natalia and she fiddled more with her hair and make-up. I guess she was a more stylish dresser, too, but Natalia still outshone her—in my opinion, at least.

“Rhoda, meet Lee. He did visit you in the hospital, but you probably don’t remember.”

“I don’t want to remember,” said Rhoda. “I’ve remembered all I need to for as long as I’ve needed and now, I’m going to forget everything I can.”

I had to admire the girl. She was resilient. She was also Natalia’s best friend, so I needed to put on some manners. “Should I order drinks?” I asked.

Her voice tinkled again, this time in light laughter. “No, it’s too early for that. We’ve got a table over by the far window.” She pulled at my arm. “Come on. I want you to meet Drew Petty.”

Now I got it. I was being ambushed by this nefarious new invader into Natalia’s life. He would try to get me on his side, thinking all was well, but I would show him I was no push-over. My resolve isn’t the greatest in the world. As soon as I saw him, I liked him. He didn’t look all that pretentious, just successful—a successful millennial. A tie slid down an expensive silk shirt, the knot two inches below the open collar. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing a tattoo that began at the wrist and traveled up under his shirt, ending at the neck. He had one of those crisp, shiny haircuts you get in salons, and crisp black eyes measuring me from light-reflective glasses. The fancy ones that turned lighter or darker as needed.

He liked talking about himself. He was originally from Seattle and had made his way through college working fishing boats. He’d received his small airplane pilot’s license shortly after graduation and made his first million four years later with a game that gave a real-life simulation of flying into the wilderness.

“Now I own my own plane,” he told me. “I’ve been flying for these guys for a while, but I like the Bristol Bay area better. It has its own energy. All these islands. They’re a bit like a jungle. The majestic skies, that’s what I’m aiming for.”

“And bears,” giggled Rhoda. “Drew wants to be where there are more bears.”

Just then, Natalia received a phone call. She texted in a message and said, “The captain and the others are on their way over.”

“Oh, the guests here will be talking about us for the rest of the day,” whispered Rhoda, leaning across the table. “Imagine, four Coast Guard officers here in full uniform.”

“They know what we are?” I whispered back in controlled alarm.

Rhoda rested her chins on her fists and grinned. “They know you’re seamen. How often do you think real seamen come in here?”

I heaved a sigh of relief and sat back, straightening my uniform even more. That was acceptable. I returned to my conversation with Drew. “What’s wrong with Ketchikan bears?”

Drew chuckled and order two double-shot espressos. Now, that’s what I’m talking about. None of this stuff shot through with air and milk. Real coffee, more concentrated than the cook’s poisonous brew. “There’s nothing wrong with Ketchikan’s bears,” he said. “But the tourists want to see big bears. Northern bears.”

“Like me,” I said without thinking.

“Like Katmai bears,” Natalia said hastily.

“Of course,” said Drew, smiling but giving me a knowing look. “Like Katmai bears.”

My anxieties were beginning to drive me through the roof. There were all these rules about what I was and wasn’t supposed to say among non-Native people and what I couldn’t say to non-local people. It was too complicated, and I was flopping around like a flounder in the bottom of a boat. I let out an audible sigh of relief when the captain and the rest of the team appeared.

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