731c3e32dd6349cda7e9d6caf76b901f

“He protects you. That’s good.” Gloria gave an approving nod, then redirected her gaze toward the ground. “My mate was not so kind. He was at first, but as soon as the cubs were born, he tried to kill them—his own children—and so I ran away with the cubs and ended up here. It’s close enough to the humans that he won’t attempt to follow us here. But being close to the humans has created other problems for our little family.”

My heart went out to her. Of course, I would help if I could. I wasn’t even angry at Pringle anymore for bringing Gloria to meet me. Granted, I was still mad at him for half a dozen other things… but not this.

“How can I help?” I asked, suddenly viewing bears in a whole new light—or at least the female ones.

“We only woke up from hibernation a few days ago, but already we’re having big problems. The people who come to this park wander too close to our den, and sometimes they bring loud, exploding lightning that makes the little ones quake with fear.”

It took me a moment to realize she meant fireworks. No wonder she and the cubs were so afraid.

“I’m pretty sure people aren’t allowed to bring those into the park.”

“Well, they do.”

“If it’s already against the law, I’m not sure what I can do to make it stop.”

Gloria glanced back over her shoulder as if searching for something. When she continued, her words came out much faster.“There’s a woman who oversees the campgrounds. She’s in charge of looking after the visitors. Maybe she doesn’t realize what’s going on or how distressing it is—not only to the bears, but to all wildlife that call this park home. Would you please talk with her on our behalf?”

“You want me to talk with her?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

The she-bear nodded.“Be our voice.”

“Okay, Gloria. I’d be happy to do that for you.” I smiled, forgetting to keep my teeth concealed.

Gloria stumbled back, then caught herself.“Please promise me you’ll do it soon. I’m not sure my cubs can take another sleepless night.”

I bowed.“You have my word.”

“When it’s done, come back to this spot and call my name. I will bring you another salmon as thank you for your efforts on my family’s behalf.” She shifted back onto all fours, watching me closely.

I raised a hand in protest.“That’s okay. You really don’t—”

“I must. That way I’ll also know when it is done. Thank you, kind human. You do the animals in this wood a great service.” And with that, she turned and wandered back from whence she came.

Well, what was one more task before finally settling into our relaxing weekend? Ultimately, it wouldn’t make much of a difference for me, but it could be a huge help to Gloria, her cubs, and the other animals who called the park home.

Charles squeezed my hand, and I turned into his chest.“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes, we just have to make a quick pit stop before we can have lunch. C’mon.”

Chapter Eight

Charles and I made quick work of the walk back to camp, mostly because my stomach was growling worse than a grizzly in distress. And now that I had an adequate frame of reference, I could totally make that comparison, thank you very much.

Pringle hitched a ride in the berry-stained picnic basket, which I carried while Charles handled the salmon. To prevent our little stowaway from getting dirty again, I padded the basket interior with Nan’s track suit jacket. Of course, this meant that my juicy booty was now exposed to anyone who dared take a peek at my derriere.

And that wasn’t the only thing I had to be embarrassed about in this campsite full of strangers. I also desperately clung to the hope that no one would ask us how we managed to catch this massive salmon without any fishing gear on us, because I had no idea what lie I could tell to get us out of that one.

That’s how we returned to the RV park—a hidden raccoon, a berry-stained track suit, juicy booty, and big fish to boot. Understandably, a few people paused what they were doing to openly gawk at us. But mostly folks let us go about our business.

“That’s her camper right there.” Charles pointed with his chin as we approached an older model RV with an army of pink plastic flamingos forming a makeshift fence around the front.

He took the basket from me, struggling to hang on to both it and the fish.

Pringle chittered something as he got jostled around, but it was too muffled for me to make out his exact words. Also I didn’t care. Frankly, the whole thing served him right.

“I’ll see you back at ours,” Charles said, dawdling off with a very awkward gait as he attempted to balance the salmon on top of the heavy raccoon basket. “Good luck. I know you’ll do great!”

Well, at least one of us had confidence in me and my persuasive abilities.

I ran my hands over the front of my pants to wipe off the dark juice that had transferred from the basket onto my fingers, then walked past the tango line of flamingos and knocked on the door.

When no one answered, I knocked again.