Cassie knew she’d been unfair to Cody, but as she sat alone at the lake after he left, she was awash in a bewildering mix of emotions. She took slow, long sips of beer, fizzy and light on her tongue, trying to focus on what she could taste and see and hear. The meditation didn’t work as well as it usually did.

As she sat at the most scenic, vibrant spot she’d ever been, all she could think was, How the hell did I get here?

She’d been a model student her whole life, gotten into the best graduate journalism program in the country, and excelled at the first internship opportunity she had. Then some malevolent freak completely changed the trajectory of her life’s path. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t the life she was supposed to be living—Cody notwithstanding. He was a blessing. A gift. A glimpse into the sort of life she’d never imagined for herself and didn’t know she might want. She felt the same about the city of Golden Falls, where the people were friendly and the living was true, pure in some essential way that the big city drowned out.

At the same time, everything bad she experienced—all her feelings of missing out on big city life and being separated from her friends and having to witness an awesome creature shot and killed right in front of her eyes—all that, she blamed on Stalker Doug. If he didn’t exist, Cassie never would have moved to Golden Falls and met Cody, never would have needed Alaska lessons, and never would have gone moose hunting. Yes, Cody would have hunted on his own at some point, but that particular mama moose lying dead a short distance away was dead because of Stalker Doug, and therefore dead because of her.

As remote as they were, she still didn’t feel entirely safe from him, although she knew she was. Even out there, he invaded her thoughts. She was as far away from him as she could get, but if he did find her … if he was stalking them now just as they’d stalked that moose … there would be no one to help her. No one to hear her scream. She couldn’t help looking to the lengthening shadows of the forest and imagining a figure lurking there.

Get a grip, she told herself. For one thing, the only access to the cabin was via the lake—the shoreline at the bend was impassable on foot, a large prow of rock. They would have seen and heard anyone approaching from miles away.

Still, Cassie’s breathing had increased and she took a moment with her eyes closed, hearing the peaceful sounds of the water lapping on the rocks and the birds chirping, before she felt in control once more.

The minutes turned into an hour, at which point she gathered kindling for the fire they’d have that night. Her mind cleared of negative thoughts and the quiet was so thick Cassie felt she could hear thoughts in her head and the beat of her own heart. There were birds, of course, and the wind moving through the trees. But behind it all was the deep and abiding presence of the wilderness itself, pure space between her and any other human being—except Cody.

Missing him, she felt bad for getting so upset. She resolved to make it up to him when he got back. Just thinking about him made her smile. All the little details she loved about him, like the cowlick on the back of his head. The creases around his eyes that gave him a friendly look even when he wasn’t smiling. The exact angle of his chin. The slightly loping gait that reminded her of an animal or an athlete. And the way he smiled at her when he thought she wasn’t watching.

The hour turned into two. The sun didn’t set until after nine, but as deep shadows formed against the snowy peaks to the west and Cody wasn’t back, Cassie grew increasingly nervous. She brushed off the comforter and put it back on the bed, moved the food cooler inside, and then the camp chairs. Her anxiety was split between fear for Cody’s safety, fear of being alone when it got dark, and fear of having to relieve herself when there was no bathroom. All three fears were resolved instantly and simultaneously when she heard the approach of the motorboat. The sound cut through the natural stillness like a beacon of safe harbor.

She ran down to the boat, waving as she ran. Cody smiled, clearly glad for her welcome.

“I have to pee!” she called as she ran. “Will you look out for bears for me?”

Laughing, he climbed from the boat. “Go, go!”

She stopped running toward him and looked around. “Where? Where do I go? What do I do?”

“Just find a tree,” he said.

“Any old tree?”

“Any old tree.”

“And then what?”

He grinned. “And then you squat. Hold onto the tree for balance.”

“And toilet paper?”

“I’ve got some in my backpack. There’s a garbage can behind the cabin. Just make sure to lift the bear latch. Then there’s a bar of soap on the big rock right there.” He pointed. “You can use that to wash your hands.”

“I wash my hands in the lake?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, don’t look!”

“I won’t,” he said. “Just stay within hollering distance.”

Cassie got his backpack, since she was closer to it than he was, and then dashed off behind the cabin, just out of his sight. She finagled her clothing, squatted, and for the first time in her life answered the call of nature outdoors. While primitive, she decided it was a lot less gross than some of the restrooms she’d used at New York nightclubs.

“Doing okay?” Cody called from a distance.

“All good!” she called back.

And it was.

* * *

“Are we okay?” Cody asked her later, when they were sitting in the camp chairs in front of the small, merry fireplace in the cabin.

Cassie had helped him hang the moose, which he’d tied, quartered, and wrapped in cheesecloth, from log trusses he’d built in the cool shade of the forest, using nylon paracord to pull them up so they hung high out of the reach of animals. She was no longer bothered by the dead animal, as she’d seen worse in New York’s meatpacking district.

He’d made dinner for her, simple but delicious quesadillas. He made it look so easy: fried the onions and set them aside, put a tortilla in the pan, added cooked pulled pork, grated cheese, and the onion, and folded the tortilla in half to create a half-moon shape. It was like magic to Cassie, who could barely make scrambled eggs. Not for the first time since moving to Alaska, she felt a touch of annoyance at her parents, who’d prepared her for life in Manhattan but not for anywhere else in the world.

“We’re okay,” she said him. “I just had more of an emotional reaction than I anticipated.”

“Emotional because of the moose?”

“A little bit.” Mesmerized by the fire, she couldn’t take her eyes off it. Didn’t want to, either, because of what she was about to say. “But mostly because of you.”

“Hey.” Cody looked closely at her. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never had trouble leaving a man before, but it’s going to hurt like hell when I have to leave you.”

“I guess we should be grateful our paths crossed at all.”

Cassie watched the flames dance in his blue eyes. She half-hoped he’d say something dramatic like he’d leave his life behind and go with her, or that she should stay in Golden Falls and embrace the small town way of life. The fact that he didn’t made her sad.

“I’m getting tired,” she said.

He smiled sadly. “Me, too.”

“Let’s sleep together.”

As she lay in bed beside him, wrapped in his safe arms, her heart ached at the thought of saying goodbye to him.

“Hey, Cody?” she whispered when his soft snores told her he was asleep. “I love you, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

* * *

Cassie woke to her breath fogging around her. The fire had died down to weak coals in the night, and the chill penetrated the cabin. Beneath the cozy comforter, though, she was warm—despite being stark naked. Cody had held her in his arms all night as if he was afraid she might vanish if he let go, and she was glad for that, because it was like he was saying something with his actions that he was unable or unwilling to say with his words.

Beside her, Cody stirred, mumbled something, and held her tighter. She turned onto her other side, still wrapped in his strong arms, and looked out the small cabin window. The sight made her gasp.

Pink alpenglow illuminated the peaks to their west as the light from the rising sun touched them. The sky was clear, not yet blue but a fading shade of lavender. A few stars still twinkled above the mountains.

Wide awake, she decided to use the skills she’d gained from Cody’s lessons and get the coffee going for them. Coffee was the one thing she knew how to make expertly. Cody was always so nice to her, always took such good care of her; now it was her turn to take care of him.

She pulled the blankets back and felt a rush of shockingly cold air. She grabbed fresh clothes from her backpack and dressed silently, pausing a few times to drink in the sight of Cody’s peaceful sleeping face.

She scooped the perfect amount of coffee grounds into the French press, poured fresh water into a pot, lit the propane stove with a lighter stick—which started with a pleasant hiss—and headed outside to wash her face and hands in the lake.

The morning was fresh with frosty dew, wildflowers, and birds singing. The sun was stronger, now filtering through the trees and glinting off the lake. It was a million-dollar view, Cassie had to admit, and she wondered if this could be her life. The thought was tantalizing but unsettling at the same time. It was hard for her to think straight amidst the raging torrent of desire for Cody, her deepening respect for him as a man, and her own sense of living some bizarre alternate reality so far from her imagined life.

The lake water was so cold Cassie almost bit her tongue when she first splashed it over her face. She giggled at herself; if it weren’t for the icy discomfort, the setting could have been that of a Swedish face soap commercial.

She dried her face and hands with the towel and turned. As she did, movement in the forest caught her attention, and she stopped.

Stared.

Everything was silent and still except for the thundering of the heartbeat in her ears and the heavy, numbing wash of terror that came over her.

A massive grizzly bear ambled toward her. Its nose was tilted upward, sniffing the air, nostrils flaring. With every huff of breath she could see the gleaming white points of its teeth. Its black, beady eyes held a cold animal intelligence.

The bear stopped, stood on its hind legs, and looked directly at Cassie.

“Oh fuck,” she said in a tiny, breathless gasp. She wanted to scream but was afraid to agitate the bear. Was she supposed to make noise? Or stay silent? Not look it in the eye? Or wave it away? All the possibilities swam through her head and she felt more helpless than she’d ever felt in her life.

“Cody,” she croaked in a pathetic whisper he couldn’t possibly hear. “Cody, help me!”

The bear sat on its haunches, looking at her, arms hanging at its sides. Its paws were the size of dinner plates, and its claws arced downward in lethal parallel. If it charged her, she had maybe five seconds before it reached her. She knew bears could climb trees. Could they swim? Of course they could swim. Still, should she make a dash for the lake? She thought she probably shouldn’t run, and besides, even if the bear didn’t follow her into the frigid water, she doubted she’d last long before hypothermia set in. She glanced desperately at the cabin, her only chance at safety. To get to it, she’d need to go towards the bear, and she didn’t think she could bring herself to do it. Her legs felt rubbery, as if they might collapse at any moment.

When the bear dropped down to all fours, Cassie thought for sure she was about to die. She thought about how much it was going to hurt. She was about let loose a scream when the cabin door opened and a shirtless Cody stepped out.

He halted when he saw her and noticed her posture, cocking his head in a question.

“Cody,” she whispered again. “Bear.” She made a short, unobtrusive, pointed gesture in the direction of the trees.

He looked over and saw it. Without a moment’s hesitation he reached backward into the cabin, pulled out his hunting rifle, and descended the steps.

“It’s okay, Cassie,” he said. “I’ll chase it away. Go back inside.” He walked quickly and he put himself between her and the bear, gesturing with his hand that she should move inside. “Go ahead. I’ve got this.”

The bear looked at Cody curiously as Cassie hurried to the cabin. She got to the door and clung to the frame, watching as Cody raised the rifle over his head.

“Hey!” His tone was calm but firm. “Hey, you. Get out of here. Yeah, you! Go on. Get!”

The man walks toward danger, she thought, in awe of his bravery.

The bear snorted and shuffled its feet, backing away a few steps toward the forest. Cassie could hardly believe it. Cody walked toward the bear slowly, still holding the rifle over his head. As he went, he reached down, picked up a handful of rocks, and then started throwing them at the bear. When one well-aimed rock almost hit the bear, it shied its head away, brought a paw up to cover its face, and then loped away in the opposite direction.

Cassie stepped out from the cabin door. A numb, panicky buzz gave her a sensation of slight remoteness, as if she were an automaton in her own body. She could still feel the bear’s gaze and the way it had looked into her eyes. The bear might have been watching her from the woods, a monster in the shadows. Just like Doug. Fear rushed at her in full roaring color, the same heart-in-her-throat terror as she’d had in New York when she’d realized she was locked in a car with her stalker.

She wasn’t safe here. She wasn’t safe at all.

“They’re just pests, really,” Cody said as he came over to her. “Most bears are timid. Yell at ’em, and they go away.” He set the rifle against the side of the cabin and gathered her into his arms. “Are you okay?”

“I …” She looked over her shoulder at the place in the woods where the bear had run away. “I can’t, Cody.”

He held her so tenderly. “Can’t what?”

“I can’t be so afraid.” She was shaking, she knew, and vaguely aware that she was crying. “I can’t be helpless. Can’t be a victim.”

“Hey, hey.” He tried to rock her back and forth, tried to soothe her. “It’s no big deal. I’ll get you some bear spray for the next time it happens.”

Bear spray? That’s his solution?

“There’s not going to be a next time!” She pulled away from him. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want bear spray. I want to be safe, Cody—safe! I’m not about to be stuck out here in the wilderness with bears ever again! This is crazy! It’s ridiculously dangerous.”

His eyes flashed both concern and impatience. “And the city’s not dangerous? You just told me your mom was held up at knifepoint. Nowhere’s completely safe, Cassie.”

“Have you ever been afraid of anything a day in your life?”

She already knew the answer—no. Cody could handle anything. He could fight fires and save lives and chase off bears. A real live day-to-day hero, he had no idea what it felt like to be a victim, and he never would.

“Take me back,” she said.

“Cassie—”

He said it as if she were overreacting. As if her feelings weren’t valid.

“I don’t want to be here anymore. I’ve tried living your way, Cody. I’ve really tried, but it’s not for me.”

“If we could just stay here for a few hours, and you could calm down and see how peaceful it is—”

“No, Cody!” She stood firm, glaring at him, feeling trapped. “When a woman doesn’t want to be somewhere, she should leave. Isn’t that what you said about your mom? What you hated about her? That she stayed even though she was miserable? Well, I don’t do that kind of thing. If I don’t feel safe somewhere, I get the hell out. And I don’t want to be here anymore. With moose and bears and—”

“Me,” he said. “Just say it.”

Her whole argument, all her anger, deflated, and she was left feeling broken. “We’re so different.”

“That didn’t stop you before.”

That’s because I didn’t love you before.

“Will you please just take me back?”

“Yeah,” he said, and sighed. “Back to the city we go.”

Cassie had the sense he wasn’t talking about Golden Falls at all.