Grizzly Fury

Fargo stopped flapping. The stallion was staring to the east. Wendy had gone north so it couldn’t be the Brit. He looked but didn’t see anything. Picking up his Sharps, he moved to the edge of the firelight. Nothing moved. There were no sounds.

The Ovaro was still staring—but to the south.

Fargo returned to the fire and added logs so the ring of light spread. He didn’t spot any glowing eyes.

The Ovaro was looking to the west now.

Whatever was out there, Fargo realized, was circling. It could be anything. A wolf, a coyote, a fox, a deer.

The Ovaro lowered its head and went back to dozing.

Thank God, Fargo thought. They had been through enough for one day. He wondered what was keeping Wendy and thought about calling his name but that would wake the others. He sat down and checked the coffee. It was hot enough. Filling his tin cup, he leaned back and sipped. The warmth was welcome. So was the new vitality that flowed through his veins. But it didn’t last. He swore in frustration.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Cecelia was peering at him over her blanket.

“Tired, is all.”

“I can keep watch if you want to lie down.”

“Go back to sleep.” Fargo placed the Sharps in his lap.

“I keep waking up,” Cecelia said. “It’s my side. It hurts somethin’ awful.”

“You’re holding up better than most would.” Fargo waggled his tin cup. “Care for some?”

“Don’t mind if I do. Hold on.” Cecelia grunted, propped her elbows under her, and slowly sat up. “Damn,” she said, her face pinched. “That made me dizzy.”

“Go slow for a while.”

“I’ll try, but I never have liked to lie around doin’ nothin’.” Cecelia paused. “I’m sorry about your friend. He was an ornery cuss but I liked him.”

Fargo frowned.

“Guess I shouldn’t have mentioned him. What else would you like to talk about? The weather?” Bethany stirred, and Cecelia tenderly pulled the girl’s blanket higher. “I made a terrible mistake,” she said so softly Fargo barely heard. “I shouldn’t have come on this hunt.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

“I can blame myself for whatever I like.” Cecelia touched her daughter’s cheek. “Worse, it could have been my precious, here, or either of the boys. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight. I wanted the money. Wanted it more than anythin’. I put my kids’ lives at risk for a few dollars.”

“More than a few.”

Cecelia’s eyes misted over. “It could be a million and it wouldn’t be enough if I lost them.” She looked down at her side. “This could have been one of them instead of me. That griz almost had us. If I hadn’t’ve flung that brand in its face . . .” She stopped.

“You did and all of you are alive.”

“Damn it. Don’t try to make me feel better. I did wrong and my kids came close to dyin’ and I’ll never forgive myself for bein’ so stupid.”

“We all do stupid things.”

“Cut it out, I say.” Cecelia straightened and winced. “I’m glad I hurt so much. Every twinge will remind me to put my children before everythin’ else.” She gave a slight shake and tilted her face to the heavens. “It sure is pretty in the high country, ain’t it?”

Moose abruptly sat up and looked around in confusion. “I thought I heard your voice. What’s going on? Why ain’t you sleeping?”

“I couldn’t so I’ve been bendin’ Skye’s ear,” Cecelia quietly replied.

“Well, you can bend mine.” Moose blinked his eyes and rubbed his beard. “I should go dip my head in the stream to wake up.”

“No need. I’m goin’ to lie back down here,” Cecelia said. “I get tired too easy.”

“It’s about my turn to stand watch anyway,” Moose said, and cast off his blanket.

“I’ll be glad when we’re back in town and don’t have to worry about bein’ attacked.”

“You don’t have to worry now,” Moose said. “I’m here to protect you.”

“That’s sweet of . . .” Cecelia stopped and her eyes widened. “God, no.”

Fargo heard a grunt, and turned.

It was Brain Eater.

21

The giant grizzly didn’t roar or growl or rear; it exploded toward them.

Fargo barely had time to leap to his feet. The Sharps was next to him and he grabbed it as he rose and jammed it to his shoulder. He started to curl the hammer back as his vision filled with hair and teeth.

Cecelia shouted his name.

A blow to his chest sent Fargo flying. He lost his hold on the rifle as he tumbled end over end and came to rest with the world fading from black to firelight and to black again. Dimly, he heard the screams of the children, heard Moose bellow and the boom of a rifle, and a war whoop. He got his hands under him and made it to his knees.

The bear had Moose by the leg and was shaking him as a cat might a mouse. The big bear hunter, his features twisted in agony, was belaboring the grizzly’s head and neck with his rifle.

Bird Rattler was striking with his tomahawk. Lazy Husband had notched an arrow.

Cecelia was too weak to do more than clutch Bethany and Thomas to her. “Shoot it!” she yelled, but not at Moose.

Abner had picked up her rifle and was cocking it. He thumbed the hammer back and raised the barrel so the muzzle was pointed at Brain Eater’s head.