Page 8 of Taming Her Bears

They set the tray down as though presenting a treasure to the king. “What did you find?” I asked, eager for further proof these were indeed my benefactors.

Captain Josh pulled off the top. “The two-way radio, although it got a little wet. Roy needs to check it out before we fire it up. Waterproof matches. Two flashlights. First aid kit. Bunsen burner. All the blankets were wet, so I didn’t bother with them. Oh, and energy bars. We keep a lot of different kinds.”

I grabbed two of them without looking at the labels. “I’m starving. I can’t believe you dived into the ocean in this weather.” I saw Lee grinning from ear to ear. I bit into a fruity granola bar, savoring the sweet, nutty texture. “Yes,” I agreed, turning to him, knowing what he was about to say. “That’s better than Davy Crockett.”

Their food stash included jerky, candy bars, crackers and squeeze cheese, as well. I hadn’t had a bite since the day before and felt like I couldn’t stop eating, but the men hardly ate at all. Since they were big, strapping guys who I knew for a fact hadn’t had a meal since washing up out of the ocean, this seemed odd.

“Aren’t you going to dig in?” I asked.

“We’ll eat later,” said Captain Josh. “We like to go fishing.”

“I guess I shouldn’t fill myself up too much, then, should I?” But I wondered how they went fishing; I didn’t see any tackle.

Darkhorse added to the pile—a few pieces of cutlery, a motorcycle key, and a girl’s silver bracelet. “Our evidence. The speed boats were gone. I don’t think they’ll be back until the weather clears, but they will be back. They’ll want to clean the last of the evidence.”

Captain Josh had started fooling around with the Bunsen burner. It was a little damp and reluctant to spark, but after a few sputters, a bright, cheery flame shone.

“The water’s too choppy for light boats.” He looked thoughtful. “We’ll stay the night here, but tomorrow morning, I want to cross the island. There was a beachfront cabin about fourteen miles south of here. It’s shelter. Radio reception will be better, as it faces Valdez.” He studied me over the flame. “We can protect you better.”

“What if Denisovich has control over the whole island?” I asked worriedly.

I don’t know what made Captain Josh grin that way. It was nearly the same self-satisfied expression Lee had used, but more ferocious, embracing danger into his arms without a concern he could possibly lose. “He doesn’t,” he said, and because he gave a low belly laugh, the others laughed with him. I would say they were cocksure, except they swam away from a helicopter crash, in frigid water, as though they were stunt-diving off the coast of Hawaii. They were either the best survivalists I had ever seen or the biggest fools for having no real survival tools, such as knives or guns. And they stared down bears. The Inuit had a name for them, but I had never believed it.

The Bunsen burner was giving out just enough warmth to dry out the lean-to and make me feel like a human being again. Darkhorse draped the tarp over my shoulders and I warmed up even more. “You have an odd name,” I told him conversationally. “Moses Darkhorse. This isn’t horse country.”

The flame reflected in his eyes danced. “My father was a Sioux, my mother a Jew. We came up here from the Dakotas when I was three.”

“And you, Captain Josh?” The full belly, the warmth, and the dryness were making me sleepy.

“I was born in Kodiak. The ocean is in my veins.”

My lids dropped heavily. I laid back, covered by the tarp, and began to drowse. I felt the men tuck in around me on both sides, protecting me with their body heat. It was enough at first, especially after the hours spent in the drizzling rain. It was nice to have an overhead shelter. It was nice to have warm, peaceful bodies sleeping next to me, but the wind changed, driving in colder temperatures.

Before turning in for the night, the captain had turned off the Bunsen burner to save on fuel. The new wind blew through the opening of the shelter, a draft stealing up from behind the box where the burner sat. The rain turned to snow and piled along the entrance. Shivering in my sleep, I dreamed I was lying on a frozen lake and couldn’t get up. I put my hands between my legs, trying to keep them from freezing. In my dream, something soft and warm pulled me under the lake, where I fell into a pile of fur-covered cushions.

The furs were thick and luxurious. As I sank deeper, they piled around me, shielding me from the cold. The sensation was so strong, I slept deeply through the night. I woke only when I began to feel chilly again. Roy and Lee were sitting on either side of me, deep in some sort of discussion on whale language, and Darkhorse was at the Bunsen burner, frying fish for breakfast. “Did you spear them?” I asked, puzzled. I still hadn’t seen any sign of fishing tackle.

“Yeah,” he answered without looking up.

“Better than…” Lee murmured.

I turned to him. “Don’t say it.”

The fish had fried to a delicate brown by the time Captain Josh returned, carrying a bag made from fishing net. He looked very pleased with himself. “It never fails,” he said. “Campers put things into the creek to stay cool and then forget about them.” He opened the bag. Inside were close to a dozen canned sodas and juices.

“No beer?” asked Darkhorse with dismay.

Captain Josh shrugged, then opened a soda and guzzled it down. “They probably drank them all first. That’s why they forgot about these.” He burped and rubbed his belly. “Love that carbonated water. Anyway, that’s not all!” He reached inside his hoodie pocket and carefully pulled out a tightly wrapped plastic bag. He unfolded it like unfolding the petals to a flower. “Eggs!”

The eggs were still in their carton. They had apparently been tied up in the plastic bag and secured to a branch, and a long piece of frayed string was attached to it. The string looked like it had been snapped instead of cut. More of their caveman-style performance. I was getting used to it. They may be the nitty-grittiest men I’d ever met, but man, were they magnificent.

If I was going to be on a wilderness island with winter kicking at the door, I’d rather be there with them than anyone else I knew. Who else would be able to drum up fish and eggs after wrecking their helicopter and spending the night in the snowstorm? A genie in a bottle couldn’t do much better.

The juice was ice-cold. It was a wonder it hadn’t frozen through. I sipped at it while I huddled closer to the Bunsen burner, waiting for the food to cook. Having Roy and Lee around was nice. They didn’t have enough experience with women to be designing or cunning or glib. We women come by those traits early.

The older men get, the better they are at getting it down – at least you hope. Out-designing and out-maneuvering even the most cunning of women. Darkhorse and Captain Josh were older men, probably in their mid-thirties. They were high-ranking officers and they had been around. Not like men from the city, but men who’d had a few serious relationships. I instinctively put men like that on my watch list. They could be real date material, or they could be the kind you see only twice a year.

They were date material, both of them. With each fresh bite of fish, each drop of juice, I grew more aware of their resourcefulness and how completely at home they were in the wilderness. They were completely relaxed, despite the still-falling snow and wind chill. Darkhorse was the shortest of the four, although he was by no means short. The rest were over six feet tall; he was perhaps an inch or two under. You could see his Jewish heritage in the shape of his nose and chin, but his hair was blue-black and straight, and he had very light facial hair. It was a nice combination, made even nicer by my visual knowledge of his entire anatomy—plus, there was just something very appealing about a well-built man who won’t defend himself against a berserk woman with a stick.

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