Burned (17 page)

Back away slowly,
he instructed.

If he comes öfter me, you run, you hear me? Run toward the road.

Then he pulled himself up very

tall and strode toward the lion, screaming at the top of his lungs.

I could have run then, probably

should have run then. Instead, I picked up a sizeable rock and screamed too.

At our noisy advance, the cougar

paused, glancing warily back and forth between Ethan and me.

Every hunter gets a moment.

This was mine. I took dead

aim, heaved the rock.

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It flew straight to its mark, hit the cat in the rib cage with a tremendous
thunk.

The animal
yeowled
in protest, and Ethan hefted the branch like a batter waiting for a pitch.

But the cougar Turned on his haunches and retreated up the hardscrabble hillside.

We waited a few minutes, making sure he didn't

change his mind.

Finally, Ethan relaxed his batter's stance, grinned.

Not bad, for a girl.

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T
hen He Laughed

And I did too, because his eyes

held admiration. Adoration.

Evaluation.

Has anyone ever told you how great

you look with your shirt off?

I glanced down at my chest, covered

only by a thin sports bra and a sheen of sweat.

Not bad,

I thought, before a sudden wave of nausea

made me sink to my knees.

My stomach churned around a knot of confusion.

Had my hunters moment been insane or

Courageous?

Ethan rushed to me, pulled me into his arms.

Don't worry. He's gone. And you were
incredible.

Still, we'd betterfind our clothes and head for home. We've got a really long walk . . .

He didn't say it, but I thought it--the addendum

we both worried about. Had the cat had

enough for one day? Or would he follow along?

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Either Way, We Had No Choice

But to put one foot in front of the other, and hope we

might come across the horses, grazing somewhere along the trail.

We plodded together in silence for quite a while. Finally Ethan said,

I wish I would've brought my gun.

Normally I would have.

"I wish you would have

too. Why didn't you?"

I thought it might upset you. Some gir--

some people don't much care for guns.

"You should have asked, Ethan.

So happens I like guns fine."

Really?
He tugged me to a halt.

You are füll of surprises.

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I smiled. "What's more,

I'm a pretty good shot."

He laughed.
I'll bet you are,

I'll just bet you are.

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We Started for Home Again

And once again feil quiet, both of us lost in thought about the day's events.

Around then it hit me

that I had been ready to give Ethan the most

personal part of me, and give it happily, without a Single worry about cause and effect.

Ethan was troubled too.

Pattyn, you knoio I love

you, and I want to make

love to you so much it hurts. But hurting
you
is the last thing I want.

Phase don't say yes

just to make me happy.

It has to be something

you want to happen too.

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"Oh, Ethan, I do. I thought

I'd
be scared, but I'm not, with you. The only thing

that worries me is getting

pregnant. I could never

have an abortion. And

I don't want to have a baby. Not now. And my

dad is crazy. Crazy

enough to kill us both."

We'll be careful, Pattyn.

I would never expect you to have an abortion. I do

want children someday, maybe even with you, but
now is not the time. And

I would never put your life
in danger. Not from
your father. And never again
from a mountain lion.

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Never Say Never

But that story is yet to come.

We had probably walked

two hours when a cloud of dust, heading our direction, signaled probable rescue.

Aunt J braked the old Ford, jerked her head out the window.

There you are, thank the Lord.

I was hoping I wouldn't have to call in the troops. Search and Rescue hates these hills.

Seems Aunt J had once taken a tumble, not far away, on a wooded bluff. Brake her leg in several interlocking places.

Stan didn't even statt to worry until it got dark. By then it was too lote to staut a search. I spent a cold, helpless night up there.

Which led us to the reason for our own dilemma. Ethan

told the story, minus the naked

part, about the cougar.

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Don't like the sound of that.

Tomorrow I'd better go up and check on the herd. I'm

afraid of what I might find.

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Journal Entry, July 1

What an incredible day.

So much happened, it's hard to write it all down, so here are the highlights, in semichronological order:

I rode Paprika, first in the paddock, then on the trail.

Ethan and I came really, really

close to making love.

We would have made love, except for the cougar.

" I splatted the cougar with a rock, right in the side.

The horses holted, so Ethan and I

had to walk most of the way home.

Aunt J is afraid the cougar is killing calves.

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" Tomorrow we'll ride up and check on the herd.

After dinner, Ethan and I talked.

Talked and kissed. Kissed and touched. Touched.

Why is that so much

better now that he told

me he loves me?

He loves me.

And all I can think of, lying here in bed, despite all that happened

this incredible day, is 1 wish

Ethan was lying next to me.

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After Paprika

Poncho was a piece of cake, a rather bland slice. I actually

felt envious, watching Aunt J

sashay along on Paprika.

We hit the trail early and rode at a quick clip, anxious to locate the herd. Howie and Maizie scouted

ahead and barked an alarm around noon.

The longhorns were scattered across a grassy hillside.

Belying the otherwise peaceful

scene, buzzards circled overhead.

Aunt J urged speed. Paprika and Diego responded. Poncho and I did our best, but as usual

couldn't keep up.

When we finally caught them,

Aunt J and Ethan were kneeling beside a tattered calf carcass.

Only the belly was missing.

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The cat isn't killing for food,
observed Aunt J.
He 's killing for fun. And it won't stop until he's stopped.

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Ethan Agreed

Some cats get a thrill out of killing

just to hear an animal scream.

Some people are the some way,
said Aunt J.
Gotta stop them, too.

You can't lock up a lion,
Ethan

said.
It will take a bullet.

I'm afraid you're right. Better round
up a hunting party.

Ethan said he'd draft a couple of friends and come along.

The sooner the better. Early

tomorrow, if possible.

Think we should call Fish and Game first?
Ethan asked.

Too many questions will slow us down.

Besides, the outcome will be the same.

Part of his turf is private land,

Ethan said.
We can Start
there.

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Aunt J nodded.
No one needs to know

where wefinaüy bring him down.

I wasn't about to get left behind.

"Can I go too? Please?"

I know you shootfor sport, but have you ever hunted an animal

wilier than you?

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I Had to Admit

That rabbits were about as as wily it got. But I wanted to hunt

that cat with a desire so bold it surprised me. The new

Pattyn was more than a coffee

addict, more than a budding

sex fiend.

She was a blossoming

thrill seeker, enchanted by each new

high to happen her way.

Tracking a mountain lion, senses screaming, no guarantee who the victim, or the prey, would

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ultimately

be? The new and improved

Pattyn was definitely up for that.

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It Wasn't Hard

For Ethan to find a crew

eager for a cougar hunt.

He and two friends arrived

early the next morning.

Mike was tall and round,

Mark was wiry and short, and they both carried custom

firearms, guaranteed deadly.

Ethan had a well-used 30.06.

Slide-bolt actions and large-

bore barreis only vaguely

familiär, I felt the odd man out.

Aunt J handed me a 30-30, showed me how to load the chamber, and warned,

Careful now, it's got a kick.

The gun wasn't as heavy as I'd feared, and it had a great

little scope. I figured I could

deal with a bit of a recoil.

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She only carries six bullets, so you'll have to make your .

shots count,
said Aunt J.

You won't have time to reload.

Six bullets? No problem.

It would only take one.

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We Took the 4x4s

Drove to the site of Ethan's and my

debauchery, set off on foot in the direction of the mountain lions hasty departure.

We crossed the stream, located his tracks on the muddy bank.
That's ajim-dandy

cat,
obseryed Mark, squatting to take a better look.

With no proper trail, we scrambled up over granite boulders, slipping on slides of shale.

The 30-30 thumped against my ribs.

The top of the hill was almost treeless, only solitary evergreens to break the gray monotony.

Mike nodded his slightly balding

head.
Lion country, all right. You

can see clear to Caliente.

A slight exaggeration, but disquieting

nonetheless. Still, I felt no fear.

There was safety in our numbers.

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We're looking for scat, prints, maybe
his leftovers,
Ethan explained.

Spread out, but stay in each other 's sight.

We all feil silent, knowing the cat

would tune in to unusual sounds.

Softly, we moved apart and forward.

It wasn't easy, searching for clues across an expanse of desert stone.

I bent low as I walked, squinting for signs.

July sun pounded my back, raised a sweat to sting my eyes. Finally,

I stoöd to mop it away.

Where had everyone gone?

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I
Didn't Want to Shout

I knew they couldn't be far.

I was still moving north, assumed they must be too.

Glancing around, I discovered the source of my dilemma--

I had wandered up a narrow channel.

It cut between monolithic slabs of ancient granite, gray and time-polished änd tall.

It wasn't a dead end. I could

see clear through to the far

side, so I stayed on course.

I walked slowly, hugged the shade of the giant rocks.

Still, I rained Perspiration.

Suddenly, I sensed movement above my head. I looked up, saw nothing. Heard no sound.

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A shiver of fear traveled the length of my spine, though

my eyes could find no reason.

I scooted back against one side.

Opposite me, gravel trickled down the face of the rock.

Something was up there, all right. Should I run?

Freeze? Scream for help?

Not twenty feet away, the cougar

slunk into view, assessed his prey, snarled a promise of battle.

I opened my mouth, but the shout

stuck fast in my throat. A single

thought entered my brain. The rifle.

The cat snarled louder, maneuvered

himself into a better position as my right hand reached for the gun.

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I willed myself not to panic, lifted the rifle, tried to sight, but my shaking arms denied me.

Above and slightly in front of me, the lion, all tooth and sinew, tightened his haunches for the pounce.

My finger squeezed, the rifle belched, the bullet ricocheted off the rock, well below my would-be assassin.

He didn't even flinch as he leaped.

I'm going to die,
I thought, my eye

catching a glimpse of four-inch claws.

Suddenly, a loud
crack
shook the rock walls. Ethan's shot caught the cat midair, dropped him at my feet.

I stared, horrified, as he moaned and twitched. I swear he stared at me as he stuttered his last breath.

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My arm ached from the rifle's recoil, my ears rang from the echoed report, and my heart pounded in my brain.

I watched the cat's life ebb away, and didn't know whether to feel

relief, satisfaction, or remorse.

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