“Harper, Tara tells us that you’re working toward a degree to become a paramedic.”
Harper held the judge’s gaze. “Yes, sir, I am. I’ve already got the approval from the fire chief of Wind River FD to apply for a job opening they have waiting for me once I graduate.”
“Isn’t that dangerous work?” Joanna Dalton asked.
“Not compared to what I was doing in the military,” he said, trying not to smile. Harper understood that civilians didn’t understand the rigor and stress on those in combat. But maybe, in this case? They knew Tara was under a lot of pressure and wanted to know more about him. He wondered if they’d already picked up the fact that he and Tara liked each other. Were they doing some questioning of him to find out who he really was? Seeing if he measured up to Tara or not? Harper thought so but didn’t become defensive about it. He saw Joanna’s expression turn thoughtful at his answer.
“Can you tell us more about yourself?” Scott Dalton urged.
Okay, Harper got it. Clearly, Tara’s parents saw them as more than just employees working at the Bar C. He wondered if Joanna’s radar—that woman’s intuition—had tipped her off and she’d mentioned to her husband. More than likely.
He gave them the short version of his family history. They were working middle class, nothing fancy, and he wondered if that disappointed them. Was this going to turn into something of a comparison between the two families? Would they see his family as less than their own? Think he wasn’t good enough for Tara? All those fears moved through his mind at lightning speed. Harper didn’t want her parents set against him. Glancing to his right where Tara sat, she appeared at ease. Maybe he was gun-shy because he remembered meeting Olivia’s parents, who were very rich and didn’t think anything of him at all.
“I know they need a full-time paramedic over at the fire department,” Scott said. “How much longer before you graduate?”
“One more year,” Harper said. “I’m carrying an A in all my classes.”
“I would imagine,” Scott added, “that because you were a combat corpsman, you find the paramedic route a little boring?”
Grinning, Harper said, “In some ways, but saving lives is my focus. The teachers have already asked me to do a PowerPoint presentation on combat medicine and the golden hour. I can share some of my experiences from over in Afghanistan with the students because combat medicine is different in some respects from the paramedic/EMT medicine practiced here in the USA.” He saw Scott give him a pleased look.
“That speaks well of your teachers, to recognize that your skills are superior in areas they probably have never been taught about.”
Harper liked Scott Dalton’s understanding, and it surprised him. The man hadn’t been in the military, but maybe because Tara had been, he’d done his homework. “Yes, it does. I’m enjoying the classes at the college and they’re teaching me the way it’s done now, here, in this country.”
“Well,” Joanna piped up, “you’re such an asset to the valley, Harper. We’re all glad you’re here. There’s a real need for a full-time paramedic with our fire department. As it is now? We have to rely on helicopters to come from Jackson Hole to pick up a sick or injured person.”
“Yes,” Tara said, “and people can die en route on a fifty-mile helo ride. With Harper getting his degree, he’s going to be able to stabilize the patient so we can hopefully prevent tragedies from occurring.” She gave him a warm look filled with pride.
Harper realized all his fears about not being good enough for Tara were caused by his own anxiety. Scott and Joanna Dalton were looking at him with respect. It was such a huge difference between the way Olivia’s parents had treated him.
When Tara reached out, covering his hand on the table with her own, squeezing it, he wondered if she was reading his mind. But then, they did have this magical, invisible tie to each other. And she had to be picking up on his concerns and anxieties. Just the warmth of her hand for that brief moment quelled all his fears, saw they were turning out to be baseless.
“Well,” Scott said, “we’d like to have you and Tara over for dinner on Saturday. Are you available?”
Harper glanced over at Tara. “I am. How about you?”
She grinned. “I love having dinner with my mom and dad.” She turned to her parents. “We’d love to come over. What time?”
“Make it four p.m.?” Joanna said. “That way we can sit and chat for a bit beforehand.”
And ask me more questions, Harper thought. But now he wasn’t as wary because he felt Tara’s parents genuinely accepted him. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, that was important to him. He knew that, in part, Olivia’s parents had derided her, while he was deployed in Afghanistan, for marrying someone “out of her class.” He often wondered how much of her parents’ cajoling her had played a part in the final demise of their relationship. Harper realized he’d never know for sure. But at least now? Tara and her parents accepted him, admired and respected him. Another huge, invisible load slid off Harper’s shoulders that he hadn’t realized, until that moment, had been there all this time.
Chapter Nine
May 15
Tara was barely able to contain her excitement as she followed Harper up the Prater Canyon trail. The late-morning temperature was in the fifties, but the sky was blue, the sun warming her as they hiked the evergreen-clothed canyon. Up ahead, she could see snow-clad Prater Mountain, one of the taller ones in the Salt River chain. She wore her heavy denim coat, a bright blue knapsack on her back, plus gloves to keep her fingers warm. Right now, she appreciated the warmth of a knit cap over her head and ears. She had a hiking stick in her hand.
Harper, walking at her side, seemed impervious to the chill and was wearing a dark blue baseball cap that had US Navy embroidered on the front of it. He, too, carried a knapsack on his shoulders, as well as a hiking stick. The ground was thawing and so their heavy, thick-treaded boots were picking up the mud. This was a well-used, popular trail, one she’d hiked many times as a child and teenager. He carried a .30-06 rifle on his left shoulder because grizzlies were everywhere, and no one wanted to suddenly confront one and then get killed by it. The rifle was there as a precaution; Tara knew Harper didn’t want to kill a bear either. But at this time of year grizzlies were hungry after coming out of hibernation.
The day was incredible, the air fresh and cool, a blue jay in the distance squawking its warning that people were coming down the trail and into the deep canyon. She had her Canon camera around her neck, a 200mm lens on it. She hoped to see elk or deer, but it was pretty late in the morning for that. These animals were nocturnal and, by dawn, were usually bedded down to sleep during the day. Still, Tara held out hope of spotting one or two. Maybe even a fawn because this was the time of year when they were born.
The area was alive with life, birds flitting around them, nest-building materials in their bills, swooping up into the tall pine trees near the edge of the flat, open canyon floor.
Drawing in a deep breath, Tara had never been happier. It had been nearly two weeks since she’d kissed Harper. And he’d been so busy between taking classes at the college and getting his wrangler duties done around the Bar C that they’d had little time to sit down and talk at length. Today, he told her, they were going to get that time together or else. Tara had laughed, but she’d agreed. Her life was ratcheting up, too.
Last week, she’d loved going back to Jilly’s Wedding Shop in Jackson Hole to have Kira help them choose the bridesmaids’ gowns they’d wear for the wedding on June 16. Maud Whitcomb was there and insisted on paying for them. It was a wonderful gift, and they’d hugged the hell out of her for her continuing generosity.
Kira loved lavender and, fortunately, so did she, Dair and Shay. She was pleased that the dress design chosen was something she could wear after the wedding. The knee-length dress would be available should she want to wear it after that. Harper had seen a photo of it from her cell phone, but the dresses wouldn’t be ready until the end of May. T
he material was real silk, and Tara had marveled at the velvety quality of it. It felt good against her fingertips. Maud lauded the praises of silk to all of them, saying it was wonderful to wear. Tara wouldn’t know. About all she’d ever worn was cotton or polyester fabrics. Silk cost too much and her mother was practical. Silk wasn’t something she could ride in, or do barn work or anything else.
The look in Harper’s eyes when he’d studied the cell-phone photo of the dress had made her smile. He liked it for a lot of other reasons, she suspected. Was sex on her mind? Oh, yes. She’d enjoyed the stolen moments when they kissed. It wasn’t often enough, but Tara understood. They were too busy, there were too many demands from their jobs and his intensive college program. She was so glad when Harper had suggested this morning that they take off and go for a hike, have lunch at the old cabin above Prater Canyon and talk at length with each other.
Tara was so focused on her thoughts that she nearly ran into Harper. He’d stopped and was pointing to the right. There, along a group of pines, were three elk mothers with their babies.
She grinned a thanks to him, quickly lifting her Canon and took some shots. And then she took some more because the mothers and their babies didn’t duck back into the dark, shadowy pines to hide.
Keeping her voice low, she asked, “Why do you think they’re out at this time of day?”
“Grizzly,” he murmured, eyes squinted, looking down the canyon where the elk had come from. “They’ve just come out of hibernation. They’re hungry and they know there are fawns around to be eaten.”
Grimacing, Tara said, “These babies are so cute. I hate the idea some of them might be killed by a bear.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s survival of the fittest and you know that better than most. You grew up in this valley.”
“I try to avoid thinking of those things,” she murmured, kneeling in the wet grass, focusing on a tiny baby trailing her mama.
Lifting the cap from his head, Harper said, “I know. You’re a big softy, Ms. Dalton.”
Her lips lifted as she kept the camera focused. “I just don’t like killing.”
“And you were in combat. Does that figure?”
His teasing made her pull the camera away from her eye. Looking up, she felt the warmth of his look cascading around her. “No, it doesn’t. I’m glad to be back home, Harper. I never liked killing and I never will. I didn’t join the military to kill. Defend our country? Absolutely. But not to kill if I could avoid it.”
He leaned over, caressing her shoulder. “Anyone in their right mind doesn’t want to kill another human being, so you have lots of company on that one.”
Her gaze fastened on his mouth and her entire lower body went hot with need. Did Harper realize just how sexy he was? Tara didn’t think so. He wasn’t a braggart, arrogant or pushy like so many men. “I haven’t met a vet yet who doesn’t agree that peace is the answer. Anyone who’s gone into combat sees what war does. There are better answers than killing one another.”
“Hey,” he said, lifting his gloved finger, “take a look down there, about a tenth of a mile behind those elk.”
Swinging her head, she stood, frowning. There was a cinnamon-colored grizzly sniffing and following the small group. “Damn,” she muttered. “I was hoping to avoid this.”
Harper came to stand next to her, pulling the rifle off his shoulder, locking and loading it. “Me too, but it’s spring. They’re starving and they need to eat, so they’re going to smell out where the elk are laying down for the day and try to kill one of their fawns.”
Tara was no stranger to grizzlies, and Harper seemed to understand a lot about bear activity. “You’ve seen one this close before?”
“Yes, on horseback. I was riding fence line last spring and fixing a downed section when a huge male, about eight hundred pounds, popped out of the woods. Scared the living hell out of me,” and he hefted the rifle into position so it was ready to use in case the grizzly charged them.
“What did you do?”
“I carried a pistol on me. Bears have lousy eyesight. I wasn’t sure he saw me as much as he saw my horse, probably thinking it was his meal. I fired off three shots and the sound scared him and he hightailed it back into the woods.”
“Might have to do it with this one,” Tara said, taking photos of the approaching bear.
“That bear will eat four-legged before he’ll think about a two-legged meal,” Harper said. “Come on; time to move to the other side of the canyon. I don’t want to spook the grizzly, but I also don’t want to be standing where we are now. That’s way too close.”
Tara agreed, quickly moving with him. Harper put her in front of him, bringing up the rear, his gaze always on the approaching grizzly. She saw the bear was trailing the scent of the elk mother and didn’t seem to be looking around, his focus on getting food for his shrunken belly. She saw the elk begin to trot up the canyon, the fawns running to keep up. Above all, she didn’t want to see that grizzly kill one of the babies. She couldn’t stand to see it. Hurrying, she lengthened her stride. Harper kept up with her easily, staying at her left shoulder, the rifle ready in case they needed it.
Remaining silent, Tara tossed a quick glance over her shoulder; the grizzly was probably about three hundred yards from them. That was only six hundred feet. A bear could run at twenty-five miles an hour and cover that distance in a heartbeat. She heard Harper place a round in the chamber of the rifle, flicking off the safety. He, too, knew that the bear, should it decide they were his meal, would be on top of them in a blink of a human’s eye. Quite literally. They were that fast, that nimble and quick.
“Keep moving,” Harper said in a low tone. “The bear’s still on the elk’s scent. In a moment he’s going to smell our scent. I don’t know what he’ll do …”
“We have bear spray, Harper.”
“I know, but I’m not willing to risk our lives on spray if that bear charges us.”
She heard the grim determination in his voice. “We should stop if he decides to come toward us.”
“Yes. You stay behind me. I’ll shoot.”
Tara knew that if a grizzly charged, the first one was usually a feint. The second charge was for real. And there was no way to read the animal’s mind to know if he would feint on the first charge or not. She risked a glance over her shoulder again, seeing the tension and focus in Harper’s face as his gaze tracked the bear’s trek. He was coming up on where they had been standing near the path the elk had taken.
The grizzly halted, woofing and turning around in a larger circle.
“He’s picked up our scent,” Harper warned in a low tone.
Tara heard the disappointment in his voice. “Should we stop?”
“Not yet; he’s still sniffing. He’s not sure what he’s picking up.”
“He can still see the elk ahead of him.”
“Yeah. As bad as his eyesight is, I’m hoping he’ll leave our scent alone and go after something he knows for sure. He’s acting as if he doesn’t know the scent of us.”
“Good.”
“Let’s stop.”
Her heart started a slow bang in her chest. She stood near Harper’s left side because if he had to shoot, he’d be using his right arm. There was no way she wanted to impede him getting a bead on the grizzly because he’d only have a few seconds to lift that rifle and sight the bruin. The bear moved in a circle once more. Then he lifted his nose, whuffing and sniffing loudly into the cold air.
“The wind is in our favor,” Tara said quietly to Harper. “It’s blowing toward us. We’re upwind of him. He won’t catch our scent.” She saw Harper barely nod his head, his gaze riveted on the animal less than a thousand feet from where they stood. It was way too close, and Tara swallowed against a tightening throat.
Suddenly, the bear rose up on its hind legs, ten feet tall, looking directly at them.
“Oh, God,” Tara choked.
“Don’t move …”
She remained frozen. It was well k
nown that if a person tried to walk or run away from a grizzly, it would charge. The only thing they could do was remain like statues, unmoving. If they tried to turn to run, the bear would think them quarry and swiftly catch up to them, killing them. It brought back all the terror and anxiety that combat had caused her.
Tara didn’t move, wondering if she was going to die. That thought alone made her want to cry out because she’d just met Harper a short time ago. They had something good going between them. She wanted the time to get to know him, herself and deepen their relationship.
The bear lifted his nose, snorting and then inhaling.
Tara could feel a breeze against her face. “The bear might not be able to see us,” she squeaked, her voice off.
“… Maybe …”
The grizzly stood up so he could see more of the area where they were. Tara knew he was looking for movement. They remained statue still. Her heart was banging away in her throat. The sound was so loud, she couldn’t hear anything else, adrenaline pouring into her bloodstream.
Without warning, the grizzly suddenly dropped to all fours, and charged toward them.
Tara didn’t even have time to shout a warning.
Harper jammed the rifle into his shoulder.
The huge, booming sound made Tara’s ears ache. She winced, stepping backward, her gaze on the charging bear. It happened so fast!
The grizzly dropped, it’s front feet collapsing, his wide, wedge-shaped head plowing into the thick, green grass. His huge body was still moving forward. The animal flipped, went into a slow-motion roll and then flopped out on its belly. All four of his legs splayed outward.
Tara made another squeaking sound of disbelief as the bear collapsed fifty feet in front of them. The animal had been so fast, she didn’t think she’d been able to blink twice.
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