by Mary Winter
“Do you think he’ll come back?”
Liam shrugged. No sense in lying too much. “It’s hard to say. We startled him. So he’ll be leery about coming back. But there’s no guarantee he won’t.”
“Makes sense.” Their conversation drifted into silence back to the camp. He showed Sarah how to stow their belongings in the lockers to prevent bears from pilfering them, suggested she unroll her sleeping bag in the tent, then after starting the fire and showing her how to keep it going, returned to try and catch some dinner.
Sarah watched him leave. Something about Liam’s response to the bear didn’t sit right with her. She’d read about them, how when faced with black bears acting aggressive was best, but for grizzlies, the opposite was true. Yet, he acted like he knew the bear, as if he were deadly certain it wouldn’t hurt him. Pursing her lips, she stared down the path he’d used to return to the stream. She fed another small log onto the fire and wished she didn’t feel so damned helpless out here. Determined to do her job, she grabbed a small notebook from her pack, sat on an upended log, and started to make her observations.
Sitting out here in the woods, the sounds of birds starting up, the buzzing of insects, the churn of life around her, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. So different from Washington DC and its never ending drone of cars. Letting the stress from the confrontation with the bear, and the emotions churned up by Liam’s kiss flow out of her, she dropped into a meditative state. She sat there for long moments, simply absorbing her surroundings. She listened for anything out of the ordinary. She heard nothing, and opening her eyes, looked once more at her notepad. Her report needed that infusion of nature, the serenity that came from knowing nothing but Mother Nature surrounded her. With a smile, she began to write.
When he returned from fishing with a good sized-catch, he found her still sitting there, scribbling away in her notebook. Without disturbing her, he began to clean the fish. Sarah watched over the edge of the notebook, trying to reconcile the piles of scales and guts she saw with the perfectly prepared fillets he’d served just a night ago. Had it really only been just last night when she’d dinned on perfectly prepared salmon at his table? It seemed like forever. Hastily, she turned away, not wanting him to know she watched.
~* * *~
Sarah bit her lip to keep from asking “are we there yet?” for a second time. Liam promised to show her a pipeline so she could see for herself the impact it had on the environment. They hiked out from the camp, following the stream, then crossing it on some precariously balanced boulders, before heading across what looked like a gorgeous meadow, complete with bobbing wild flowers.
Her legs ached. If she returned to civilization she’d never neglect the Stairmaster again. Watching Liam’s back as he blazed the trail in front of her, she struggled to keep her thoughts away from his broad shoulders and his narrow hips. Although obscured by his pack, she knew he had a fine rear. She shook her head. Damn it, she was engaged! And she let him kiss her. Her breath whooshed from her lungs.
As if he sensed her discomfort, Liam looked over his shoulder. “You okay? Need to rest?”
“I’m okay,” she replied, knowing physically she’d be fine. Mentally, emotionally, hell, she didn’t know, and the knowledge that Liam kissed ten times better than her fiancé didn’t make it any easier. She smiled, hoping she reassured him.
He nodded and faced forward again. “I promise, we’re almost there. See that rise? It’s just over there.”
Sarah followed Liam’s pointing finger to a small hill that looked miles away. Ugh. At least she was used to running all over Washington, literally and figuratively. Hitching her pack higher on her shoulders, she muscled through. Sooner than she thought, they topped the rise, and looked down at another pristine valley, except for the pipeline running smack through the center of it. Sarah frowned.
A series of uprights created a trail, almost like someone lined football goalposts from one end of the horizon to the other. A round, silver pipe sat in the uprights. It looked as if nothing more than bolts and rivets held it together, and Sarah found herself wondering what would happen if burrowing animals dislodged one of the posts, or if bad weather knocked them down. The thought of the valley, with its low grassy carpet and bunches of wildflowers, suddenly covered in the sludge of oil made her stomach churn.
She stared at the pipeline, the very thing her employers wanted to expand. It sickened her. A place as beautiful as this needed to remain pristine. She couldn’t imagine what kind of damage the heavy equipment needed to put the pipeline in place would do. She took several halting steps forward. “Can I go down there?”
“Yeah, just be careful,” Liam said. He followed her down the slope and into the valley, always staying several paces behind.
Sarah appreciated the space. With him around she had trouble concentrating on her mission, and right now, she wanted nothing more than to stop any more of these atrocities from being built. Keeping her report unbiased one way or another, forget about it. If it only it were that easy. Hodges Associates prided itself on being above political squabbles. They were the “go to” firm when it came to needing something above board. If she let her personal beliefs taint the report, she’d hurt the firm’s credibility and the very reason why she worked for them. In a city full of vipers and turncoats, Hodges Associates played above the rabble. They were one of the few clean games in town. She refused to do anything to jeopardize that, even if what she found out went against her own personal beliefs.
“So how sturdy do you think that pipeline is? I mean from here it doesn’t look too good.” She glanced overhead at a pipe, noticing what looked like a large rivet holding two joints together.
Liam scowled. “They say it’s safe. I know back in March 2006 there was a big spill when a feeder pipeline at Prudhoe Bay leaked. They say it spilled a quarter of a million gallons right into a caribou crossing. If you want my opinion, they have too many miles of pipeline and too few people to monitor it.”
“Can you get me that data? That’s what I need for my report, verifiable facts. I can tell them what it was like to stand here, to imagine this place over run with pollution, but that’s not going to pull weight in my report.” She stepped back, her head still tilted up to get a better look. Reaching for her digital camera in her waist bag, she nearly tripped.
Liam’s hands on her shoulder steadied her. “Easy there. Don’t want you twisting an ankle out here.”
Heat seeped from his hands through the layers of her clothing. She breathed deeply, his woodsy scent pouring into her lungs. “Thanks.” She fished her camera out and took several photographs before replacing it in her bag. “Those will be helpful.”
“So you really think you can do it?” Liam asked. His hands still rested on her shoulders.
She allowed the contact, thinking how nice it was to share this with someone else. Her fiancé barely even listened to her talk about her environmental concerns. He rambled on and on about his cases, or about something one of his colleagues did, yet when it came to her work, he remained tuned out. “I don’t know,” she replied, finding stark truth in the simplicity of her words, “but I’m going to try my best.”
Chapter Four
Sarah jolted awake. Night sounds surrounded her. She heard the rustling of leaves in a slight breeze. Wrapped in her sleeping bag, she tugged it higher over her cold nose. Sometime during the night, the comforting presence of Liam nestled in his sleeping bag had gone. Turning her head, she looked at the empty space beside her. His sleeping bag was still there, as was his gear. She breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t left her alone.
From outside the tent she heard low chanting. The melodic cadence soothed her, though words were spoken too low to be discerned. Shifting quietly in the sleeping bag, she peered through a corner of the mesh window she’d left uncovered so she could see outside. Liam squatted by the cold ashes of their fire circle. He held some kind of blade, she thought, in his hands. Dark liquid—blood—dripped down the han
dle and covered his bare arm. She followed the rivulets as they crossed his naked chest. Her mouth went dry.
Wild. Primal. If she were to be stranded in the woods with one man, she’d want that man to be Liam Phillips. He tilted his face to the moon, his lips speaking in a chant. Shivers darted down her spine. Her body tingled, a sense of otherness in the air that she’d never experienced in the concrete and urban jungle of Washington, D.C.. Her breath came in pants. Awareness darted through her body.
His chant rose to a crescendo. She heard words like “mother” and “stars”. He lifted a carcass above his head. In the darkness she couldn’t discern what it was, other than a mass of blood and bone. Her stomach rumbled. She swallowed hard, torn between looking away and watching him finish this ritual. With a knife he set the beast back on the ground, then sliced off a slab of meat and ate it. Raw.
Her gorge rose. What kind of man was he? Some kind of demented Grizzly Adams? It looked very ritualistic, beautiful in a stark, life and death sort of way. The thought of sharing the tent with him after that had her heart hammering in her chest. What if he— She shook her head. No, he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d had plenty of opportunity to do so. He could have left her to the bear if he wanted. He hadn’t.
Breathing shallow breaths through her mouth, she watched as Liam stood. Still chanting, though softer now, he lifted the carcass overhead. Had there been a moon, he would have been illuminated. Instead, stars twinkled overhead, far more than she’d ever seen in the city, and it was in their light he stood. She made out the Big Dipper almost directly overhead, and somehow, it felt right to be in the shadow of the great bear in the sky. She breathed a sigh as Liam ended whatever ritual he performed and carried the carcass away from the camp. For a moment she debated about crawling out of the tent and following him, but the knowledge that it was night and there were bears in the woods kept her inside the tent.
She burrowed back into her sleeping bag so just the top of her head emerged from the opening. Laying there, she thought about the ritual, about the way Liam attacked the bear. She’d heard men in Alaska were larger than life. She certainly couldn’t imagine Walt taking on a full-grown grizzly bear. As if sensing Liam’s absence, the sounds of night built once more. Something scurried not far from the tent. An insect buzzed just outside.
Sarah waited for Liam to return. When he didn’t, she poked her head from the sleeping bag and stared at the roof of the tent. How long did he intend to leave her alone? And what kind of ritual was he performing? The researcher in her longed to answer questions. She thought longingly of the notepad and pen in her pack, but she’d need to turn on a flashlight in order to get to it and write down her thoughts. She shook her head. That’d undoubtedly be seen. Somehow, she knew she didn’t want to let Liam know she’d witnessed his private ceremony.
The sound of something entering camp pulled Sarah from her thoughts. Larger than the smaller woodland creatures she heard earlier, she hoped it was Liam returning. She lay completely still until she heard the rasp of the tent’s zipper.
“Liam?” she softly called out.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he said as he sat. She heard him fastening the tent flap and removing his shoes before climbing into his sleeping bag. Suddenly, the tent seemed much warmer, much cozier, than it had a few moments ago.
“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t a bear,” she said.
He chuckled. “Don’t think they know how to work zippers.”
“That’s good to know.” Of course, one swipe of their paw would shred this canvas tent. She kept her morbid thought to herself. “Good night, Liam.”
“Good night, Sarah. Don’t worry. You’re safe here with me.” His husky voice was an aural caress.
If only it were that easy. A man who wrestled bears and had strange moonlit rituals in the dark of the night. A man whose voice sent liquid heat through her body, and who she knew, if it came down to it, would jump in front of a savage creature for her. A man so unlike her fiancé it was like comparing the tundra to a California beach. Yeah, safe. She swallowed hard and tried not to wonder who would protect her from him.
Morning came far too soon for Sarah. After Liam’s return, she’d drifted into a fitful sleep, her dreams filled with images of bears, bloody knives and carcasses. If Liam noticed her discomfort, he said nothing. After a quick bath with a pre-moistened wipe, she emerged from the tent to find Liam packing up camp.
“We’re leaving so soon?” she asked as he pointed toward her pack. She retrieved an energy bar, her stomach not up to much more.
“I want to head back to the lodge. You’ve gotten your taste of the wilderness.” Liam didn’t even look up from his work.
Sarah stared at him. She couldn’t believe he’d send her packing back to Washington so soon. “One night isn’t enough to tell me what I need to know. I haven’t been that big of a burden to you, so it’s not like you can say I’m holding you back.”
“You were nearly attacked by a bear. It’s dangerous out here.” Liam grunted and straightened. He double checked the straps on his backpack frame and satisfied with his work, leaned it against a log. “Get your gear out of the tent. We’re taking it down.”
“Wait a minute! I didn’t come all this way so you could have me camp one night in a tent and send me back. There are thousands of miles to explore out here. I’m not saying I want to hike every one, but I certainly need more than a single night.” For a moment she wondered if Liam might be in collusion with her employer in trying to skew the results of her report. She bit savagely into the energy bar. If her employers hired someone to give her false information. She shook her head. Surely that wasn’t the case. Her firm prided itself on being unbiased, and she couldn’t imagine Liam doing anything to harm the wildness of this place.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Liam said.
Sarah stopped chewing. She swallowed the lump of energy bar in her mouth and slowly turned to face him. His words, like watching the ritual last night, resonated through her body. “Not done with me yet?” she spoke slowly, as if afraid she’d misinterpret his words. An image of him bare-chested in the night, blood dripping over his skin, filled her mind. The urge to trace her fingers through the slick liquid, painting designs on his flesh filled her, and for a moment, she imagined herself doing just that.
Good Lord, she’d been in Alaska only a couple of days and already she’d started to shed the inhibitions she’d kept firmly in place back in D.C.. What kind of place was this?
A slow, masculine smile spread over Liam’s face. His gaze raked her from her hastily brushed hair down to her feet, then back again, lingering on all the curved places in between. “You thought I was sending you back to Washington, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah. You said it was dangerous out here.”
“It is. But there’s a lot I can show you from the lodge. Plus, I’ll check in with some contacts and see what info we have on grizzly movements. I don’t want to take a chance until I get more information.” He strode past her to the tent, pulled out her sleeping bag and what few things she had inside, and then started to dismantle it.
Sarah bundled her sleeping bag and placed everything into her pack. “So long as you’re not sending me away, because I’m not going.” She double-checked everything, then leaned her backpacking frame next to Liam’s.
“You’ll go if I say you’re going.”
Sarah laughed. She couldn’t help it. Great guffaws loud enough to startle birds from a nearby tree burst forth. “That whole Neanderthal act may work out here. Me big man. You little woman. But it won’t work on me, buddy. I’m here to do a job. I won’t leave until it’s finished.” She dashed away the tears her laughter had caused and shook her head. If Liam thought he could order her around, he had another thing coming.
Liam stopped and looked at her. With a shake of his head, he returned to his work. “You’re not one of those feminists, are you?”
“And what if I am?” She wasn’t radical about it, bu
t she believed in her job and in her abilities. If Liam said it wasn’t safe, she believed him. She also expected he’d find out what they needed to be safe and take her back out into the woods again.
“Well, then, I might have let the bear eat you.” He punctuated his words with a wink.
Sarah liked this new, teasing side of her guide. She read his concern for her in his body language, in the efficient way he packed up camp as if he wanted to get them out of there as soon as possible. She wondered what he knew that she didn’t. Yeah, she’d seen the bear, had come close to being injured by it. However, she considered that an isolated incident.
“I’d hope not.” She hurried around camp, taking care of a few last minute things. Soon, the tent had been stowed away and they were ready to leave. She hefted her gear over her shoulder and fastened the belt around her waist. Checking her canteens and finding them refilled, she wondered how long Liam had been awake.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. He shrugged into his frame, and led her back down the path toward the small building where he’d stored the ATV. “We’ll be coming back right?” She needed to hear him reassure her.
“We will. Let me get some information. Bears don’t usually roam this close to the lodge. I’d like to see if something is driving them in this direction before we head back out.”
She opened her mouth to counter his words. This was Alaska, the wild, untamed wilderness. Bears went wherever they wanted to. Who was going to stop them? It didn’t sound right, but something apparently spooked Liam and he knew this place better than she. Trusting in his judgment, she followed him back to the ATV, thankful that at least tonight she’d sleep once more in a soft bed.
~* * *~