A lot of time may have passed since Rachel was young and on this ranch but one thing remains the same. She’s cute as fucking hell on horseback.

And a natural, too.

Even though we’d gone bareback riding the other day, now seeing her sit proudly on the back of Sybil, a slow and rather ornery mare (just like the Fawlty Towers character she was named after), as we ride up into the mountains, she looks just as she did back in the day.

“What?” she asks me, adjusting the brim of the black cowboy hat I’d given her.

“Nothing.” I smile.

“You keep staring at me. Am I doing it wrong?”

“You’re doing it great. You belong on the back of a horse.”

She snorts. “Yeah, well after we went bareback, I couldn’t walk very well the next day.”

“Kind of like the day after we’ve had sex.”

She narrows her eyes at me and lets out a puff of air in disgust. “You and your ego.”

I shrug. “Not ego, just the truth.”

I know it’s making her uncomfortable for me to talk about sex but I just had my head between her legs so I don’t think it matters all that much what we talk about. She can pretend that what happened was a mistake but I know that meant something to her, even if she won’t admit it.

“Don’t act like your other partners ever measured up to me,” I add. I bite my lip, watching for her reaction.

Her eyes roll far back in her head and she clucks at Sybil to pick up the pace, trying to get past me.

“You trying to escape?” I call after her.

She glances at me over her shoulder and then yells at Sybil, “Come on girl!” and starts kicking like crazy.

Sybil perks up and starts off at a canter, turning to a gallop as soon as the two of them find their rhythm together. I take a moment to watch Rachel fly across the grass like she’s sailing on top of a ghost. I can hear the freedom in her voice as she whoops and hollers over the hoofbeats, the big sky and mountain peaks stretched out in front of them.

I look over at Fletcher trotting beside me, his ears perked up and focused on Rachel as she gets a bigger and bigger lead.

“You ready cow dog?” I ask him.

He wags his tail.

And I join in the chase.

In a hot second, Polly is up to a gallop under my saddle and we’re flying down the slope after her. The reins are slack as I lean forward, one hand holding down my hat, Polly’s ears pinned back as she’s given ‘er.

I can’t wipe the smile from my face, the pure joy that filters through me like sunshine as I chase down my love. It’s all open spaces and heat and horses and heart. That girl has my fucking heart.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” I yell at her as I start to catch up. She may have had the headstart but Polly is as fast as a thoroughbred and streamlined like a whip. Soon we’re overtaking them and I’m laughing into the sky as I pull Polly around in a circle, going around them.

“Fuck you,” Rachel says but she’s smiling uncontrollably. “You’re literally riding circles around me.”

“Trying to ensure you won’t ride off again.”

“Don’t give me any reasons,” she retorts as we both slow to a trot, then a walk.

“Don’t spook so easily.”

“Spook?” she says. “Please.”

“What? You’ve been all jumpy ever since I tongue-fucked you.”

She balks at that, looking at me with an open mouth. “Shane.”

“What?”

“That’s no way to speak to a lady.”

I grin at her. “You ain’t no lady.”

“Fucker.”

“I stand corrected. Besides, I remember you used to like the dirty talk.”

Her cheeks flush and she pulls down at the brim of her hat to cover her face.

“You did say I’d gotten bold,” I add. “I reckon you might just like it.”

“Stop,” she says, sounding exasperated. “Let’s just put all that past us.”

“Why should we do that? You have something against orgasms? You used to never get your fill. Greedy little thing you were.”

Another sharp look. “Because. I told you. It’s complicating things.”

“Funny,” I say, gesturing between the two of us riding side-by-side, Fletcher loping on the outskirts and the wild land beyond, “this seems like the easiest thing on earth. Just you and me. Out here. It’s where we both belong.”

“It’s where you belong,” she says softly.

“And you belong with me.”

“Shane…”

I sigh. “Look, I know I’m coming on strong and I know you think things are getting complicated but…you need to give me a chance.”

“A chance?”

I gnaw on my lip, wondering how to proceed. How to lay everything bare. It seemed so easy last night but that was everything from the past. It’s the present that matters most.

“A second chance,” I tell her. “There’s nothing stopping you anymore.”

“Are you serious? Shane. I can’t just…uproot my whole life. Maybe Samuel and I broke up, okay fine. And maybe I’m not happy in Toronto or with my job and maybe I won’t even have a fucking job when I get back home but…I have to go back home.”

I shake my head, my heart feeling tight. “No. You don’t have to.”

“Shane.”

“Damnit, Rachel,” I tell her, bouncing a fist off the saddle horn as the frustration rolls through me. I shouldn’t be getting mad but I can’t help it. “This isn’t over. You know it isn’t. You can’t just come here and tell me that I’m not worth another chance. You can’t pretend that you don’t want me, need me. Fucking hell, I’ve been needing and wanting you every single day since you left and I refuse to believe that you haven’t felt the same way. Yeah, I fucked up but it’s over. You know the truth now and it’s over.”

“You think I can just turn it off?” she snaps. “While you’ve been so-called pining for me, I’ve been fucking hating you.”

Her words cut like paper, quick with a deep sting. “Ouch.”

“Well I’m sorry,” she says. “But you ruined me and I know we’ve been over this but I can’t just forget that it ever happened!”

“But you have to. You have to if you ever want to move on. You have to let it all go.”

“You try being in my shoes. I get it that you broke your own heart when you broke mine and I feel for you but you weren’t in my shoes. What you’re asking me to do isn’t easy.”

“I know it isn’t, I know. But aren’t I still worth trying for?”

She presses her lips together and looks off and my heart, it fucking sinks.

Maybe I’m not worth it in the end.

“You know what,” I tell her. “It’s fine. I get it. I’ll back off.”

She exhales, her shoulders slumping. “This was a mistake.”

Whether she means coming along on the ride or coming to North Ridge in general, I don’t know. All the options hurt.

We ride for the next few hours in silence, the air heavy and thick with tension that neither of us seem to shake. Even the horses are on edge, their ears flicking back and forth, giving nervous snorts.

As we approach September, the days are getting shorter. It’s seven o’clock and the sun will be going down in an hour or so. I’ve seen signs of the herd but haven’t actually seen them and it looks like we’ll be spending the night.

One long, awkward night, I’m betting. I only have one sleeping bag. Seemed like a good idea a few hours ago.

“We’ll ride for a bit more,” I tell Rachel as we skirt alongside a green lake, a forest of pine on the other side. The elevation here is higher and there’s a bit of bite to the air. “Then set up camp.”

I can tell she’s nervous about the whole thing and I don’t think it has to do with being alone with me. I’m not sure if she’s ever been out in the wilderness overnight. For me, it’s pretty much second nature.

“I need to go pee,” she says, pulling up Sybil to a halt and looking around. In front of us a patch of alder and shrubs lead into the hill of pine.

“I promise I won’t look,” I tell her, ready to shield my eyes.

But she dismounts and fishes some toilet paper out of the saddle bag I’d given her and heads out into the trees, not even looking my way. I don’t know how she’s still mad at me or even what for but time doesn’t seem to be helping.

I watch her disappear and look around. This isn’t a bad spot to camp but I don’t like the proximity to the forest. I’d rather keep riding and find another spot, maybe beside a creek so the horses have access to water, some place open so I can see from all angles. It’s not going to rain, so we just need a place to tie up the horses and some flat ground to spread the sleeping bag on and that’s about it.

I actually love camping under the stars. Sometimes I go on overnights just by myself. Usually there’s a purpose to them, like traveling to other ranch lands to meet with ranchers or just driving cows or checking fences and making repairs, but I’m always the one going. There’s something about lying beneath a blanket of stars, far from the comforts of home, that makes you feel immensely connected to the land. It’s that connection that keeps the love of the job going.

Polly shifts nervously underneath me, her ears flicking back and forth. Sybil does the same. Fletcher is looking alert in the direction of where Rachel disappeared.

A coldness builds in my chest and I straighten up, instinctively reaching for my shotgun at the back of my saddle. “Rachel?” I say loudly. “You doing okay?”

I wait, listen.

I hear nothing.

Then rustling.

Unease trickles through me.

“Rachel!” I yell. My hand grasps the gun and I carefully bring it forward.

No answer.

I look at Fletcher. “Go find Rachel,” I tell him urgently.

He springs into action, trotting off into the forest until I can’t see him either.

Something isn’t right.

No, not right at all.

Sybil’s head suddenly lifts and she starts backing up, as does Polly, spooked as fucked.

Fletcher starts barking and barking like crazy from somewhere in the trees.

A heavy rustling follows.

“Rachel!” I yell, ready to jump off.

Then, a growl.

No, a roar.

It makes all my hair stand on end, freezing me on the spot.

There’s a rapid onslaught of sounds.

Fletcher barks, growls, snaps.

And something large and menacing growls back, a low, guttural cry that nearly shakes the ground.

Sybil rears.

I keep Polly in place.

Fletcher keeps barking, twigs and branches snap.

So do jaws.

Snarls.

Another roar and then Fletcher’s high-pitched howl, a cry of absolute pain.

Fucking hell, not Fletcher. Not my dog.

“Rachel!” I yell. “Fletcher!”

There are no more barks.

The trees start moving.

The ground is shaking.

Yards ahead, a mammoth-sized grizzly bear comes thundering out of the trees, a big, scary fucker that comes to a stop a yard away, dirt flying around his massive body.

Sybil pulls her reins out of my grasp and gallops away and Polly wants to do the same, even though a grizzly bear can run as fast as racehorse for short distances and there’s no doubt he would charge and bring us both down. I do what I can to keep Polly in place because I’m not fucking leaving Rachel or my dog behind.

I aim the shotgun at the bear, trying to keep calm, keep steady.

The bear opens his mouth in a deafening roar, showing off a pink mouth, rows of sharp teeth, then rises up on his hind legs so he’s a beast of eight feet tall.

Jesus.

It’s the most horrifying and majestic sight I’ve ever seen. A true testament to power, to nature, to the wild.

And it can so easily kill me.

I keep the shotgun trained on his head, ready to pull the trigger.

I don’t want to. And I know that even with a shotgun blast to the head, grizzlies don’t always die on the spot and the chances of me taking him out before he can get to me are slim.

But so help me God, if he did anything to Rachel, I will blast his fucking brains out.

My finger touches the trigger but doesn’t pull it, Polly dancing back and forth beneath me as I try to keep the grizzly in my sights. The panic inside me wants to well up and scream but I can’t pay it attention, can’t feed it, I push it down and act instinctively. Having the gun in my hands like this brings me right back into the Waters’ kitchen, pointing it at Errol.

I stare at the bear. Deep brown eyes.

The bear stares back at me.

I might see my whole life in that look. Gone in a horrible flash.

The moment stretches forever and all that loss knocks at my door.

But this wasn’t like facing off with Errol.

This is something else entirely.

I take a deep breath.

Prepared. Determined. And ultimately torn.

Yet I will do what I have to do.

But, it changes. The bear lowers himself to the ground, huffing and slapping the earth with its paws, its long black claws raking the dirt before it gives another low growl.

And then, with a shake of its head, it lumbers off in the opposite direction along the lake, disappearing around the bend of the hill.

Gone.

I exhale and eventually lower the gun. Then as the reality comes back, I’m shaking, the adrenaline and fear ravaging through me.

“Rachel!” I scream and jump off Polly, running into the forest with the gun.

I look around, yelling her name over and over again but she’s nowhere to be found.

Then there’s a bark.

I whip around to see Fletcher limping toward me, tongue hanging out.

“Fletcher!” I cry out, dropping to my knees to examine him. I was so certain he was dead. Miraculously, he isn’t that hurt. He’s limping and the fur at the back of his neck is wet with saliva and blood and there’s a small wound but that’s about it. My guess is he attacked the bear and the bear got him by the back of the neck and threw him off. It could have been so much worse.

I stand back up, cupping my hands over my mouth, trying to ignore that panic but fuck it’s going to kill me. “Rachel!” I yell. “Can you hear me! Please?”

I look down at Fletcher. “Where is she? Where is Rachel?”

Fletcher whines and I’m not sure he understands but when I ask again, keeping my voice as steady as possible, he gets my intentions.

He lopes a bit further into the brush and I follow until he stops at the base of a tree.

And looks up.