She'd gone back to the guard station at Elf Creek, but it didn't work. She dreamed of the man's cries and the bear, the smell and hugeness of it, teeth meeting in her hand, the double glint of the lighter in those eyes as it lunged, making the trap ring like a shattered bell. She woke bathed in sweat, clutching the blankets and groping for her headlamp, Gris frantic, licking her hand as she reached out.
Good dog. It's alright.
But it wasn't. Not even fucking close. Going to the outhouse she had flashes of that night, that would freeze her to the ground, immobile. Sometimes she'd just stand still until she caught her breath. Other times, her eyes would leak tears and they'd flood down past her lips and she could taste them. Once, late on a moonless night, she peed her pants.
When her hitch was done, she dropped Gris at Cogwill's, then parked her truck at the S. O. and went straight to Betsey's office. Betsy took one look and shut her office door. They hugged and both of them started crying.
"They said it might be bad," Betsey held her at armslength and they both sniffed back tears. "So I guess they were right."
"I hate it— It just hits me and I feel so helpless. I love the place, but. . ."
"Better not to stay there right now. Especially alone."
They drew apart and Mary slumped in the gray, government-issue chair while Betsey leaned back against her desk. Also gray.
"Is there another guard station open?"
Betsey looked away. "Not at the moment. But I've been thinking. We need someone to work the Fire Cache here. Everts is a flake, Batson's got a new baby, and things aren't even close to ready for the fire season. Could you stand being indoors?"
"Could I go on fires?"
"Of course. We need someone to go with the trucks, to set up supply areas and do air liaison at fire camps. You'd probably get more OT than you do on a handcrew, and wouldn't have to dig line and sleep out in the dirt. There's an Air Ops session at Biff-C next week. Still time to get you in."
Mary mopped her face with a red bandanna and smiled.
"Yeah. That sounds good. I owe you."
"You do not. Good Lord!" Betsey teared up and couldn't talk for a while. "You're worth a lot more to us than we are to you. Seriously. One thing: you'll be on call and you need to line up someone to watch your dog. Short notice."
"Dog? What dog?"
YOU ARE READING
Sowing on the Mountain
Mystery / ThrillerA Consolata Mary Browne mystery, the second in a series. (To get the most out of it, first read The Feral Strut, which establishes the main characters and background.) After her near-fatal encounter with a grizzly bear, Mary goes to college in Sa...