Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2) (18 page)

BOOK: Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2)
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Watch out for the holes. No shit, Sherlock. If you

d been watching out for the
holes we wouldn

t have gotten stuck, and my ass wouldn

t be stinging like it is
right now!


I

m sorry, girlfriend. I told you to hold on.


I did, I was, till Superman Greg here climbs on the front
like the Hulk causing me to forget what I was supposed to be doing.


Like holding on?


Yep, like holding on. When you punched it I watched my life
flash before my eyes. One minute I was standing in the bed, the next minute I
was standing in the air before I landed on my rear. We have two more of these
to cross? No thanks, I

ll walk.

And
I did until I stepped off into a bottomless hole that didn

t stop until my aching butt
was on the ground again.

A little help here!

I yelled, watching these two grown men laughing their asses
off.

I
know, I know, watch out for the holes.


She worth it?

asked Greg.


She is. Let

s go get her. Vic, we

re coming. You hurt
anything?


Only my pride,

What else
could I say? First, D warned me to hang on. Then he told me to watch out for
the holes. I

m
batting a thousand today for all the wrong reasons.

After
a little maneuvering, Greg and I each took an arm and lifted Vic straight up
out of the hole that unwillingly held her leg.

Are you sure you

re all right?

No,
I

m not all right!

Hold on a minute, D. Steady
me please. I think this time I bruised my you know
 
... hoo-ha.

That

s a first.
Trying not to laugh,

Want me to take a look at
it? Greg has a first aid kit on his machine.


Shhh ... I will be fine,

I answered the little boy inside the man, grabbing his arm
and squeezing it to the bone to get him to hush.

Greg,
hearing his name, coupled with first aid kit, stopped and spun around.

Is she OK? Did she hurt
something?

If her grip on my arm could
kill, I

d
be dead.

Only her pride, Greg. Only
her pride.

Chapter
32

F
inally,
we were off again screaming through the woods, zipping across peat bogs,
climbing over logs and crossing the last two dams with ease. The last leg of
our journey flew by.

Greg
slowed his machine to a crawl, motioning for me to do the same. Then he made a
360
˚
turn and
stopped.

You

re on your own from here. Now you walk. About one hundred
and fifty yards up on the left there will be a timber cut. Follow it until you
see three orange flags on a Jack Pine. Go into the woods there and follow the
flags to the tree stand. I

m going to check more baited areas and will meet you back
here by seven. Any questions?

D
shook his head no. Of course he did
.

Excuse me, Greg. I have one. How far is it to the stand, as
you call it?


It

s another thirty minutes of brisk walking, Victoria. Why?


Just in case I have to, you know, go again,

I replied uncomfortably.


The two of you better take care of any business here. I don

t want you screwing up my
bait areas.


Copy that, Greg. That

s why I brought along extra
Ziplocs. Vic almost has the hang of it.

Greg
laughed? Damn him, and damn D, too, while we

re at it
.

I do have the hang of it,
thank you. It

s takes a whole lot of work to be a woman around boys when
they

re
playing with their toys.

Come
to think of it, even more so, when they

re playing with me...

Greg

s Ranger roared to life.

I

m outta here. If you

re gonna do that, do it
here. Not in my tree stand!

Well,
Vic knew just how to push his button and mine too, for that matter.

I

m not saying a word,
girlfriend. After we start walking in, you

ll have to be quiet as in no
talking. Whatever you need to get off your chest or out of
—”


I

m fine. I just don

t like you making fun of me.
I

m
doing this for you, you know.


That

s hilarious. I thought I was doing this for you, Victoria.


I still don

t know what

this

is,
D? You

re
carrying a rifle, a backpack and me into the woods. I can only deduce we

re going hunting.

Embracing
her in both arms, I whispered,

We

re
going exploring, trust me.

Why is it when men say

trust me,

I always find
myself catching my breath before thinking WTF is next?

Let

s do this. What are you
waiting on?

Women, we can

t live with
them, we can

t
live without them.

Nothing, absolutely nothing. Follow me.

Walking
quietly to the cut, we made the left into big timber where the undergrowth was
at least six feet high on both sides of the old logging road. Twenty minutes
into our trek with my mind thousands of miles away somewhere in Florida, I felt
a tug on my sleeve.

Mister
outdoorsman is clueless
.

D,
did you hear that? I think something is following us.


I

m sorry. What did you say, Vic?


I said, I think something or someone is following us. When
we stop, it stops. When we walk, it walks.

Trying
to allay her fears, I pulled the rifle off my shoulder and chambered a round
into the barrel.

There, whatever it is, we

ll be ready for it.

I motioned for Vic to follow me, then stop. Walk a few
yards more, then stop again. Nothing. Guess her imagination is in overdrive
right now. Then, off to my right I heard branches breaking in stride. Vic
closed up behind me, close enough that I could feel her breath on my neck.

I may not be a hunter, but I
am always aware of my surroundings.

I
told you, didn

t I? There is something out there.


You have a great sense of hearing, Vic, I

ll give you that. There is
definitely something following us. Let

s keep walking until I can
figure out what it

is.

Great.
... and he

s the one with the gun
.

A bear? I mean, what else
will stalk you up here?


It could be anything. The quicker we get to the tree stand
the more we

ll be able to see,

which sounded much better than the safer we will be. Over
the next rise, I saw a glimpse of the three orange flags dangling from the long
needled pine.

Vic, it

s not far now. See the flags. We go left there.

And
that

s supposed to give me some
sort of relief?

I see them. Does that mean the tree stand is close by?


It

s closer than it was when we started.

We were being tracked that

s for sure, but by the lack
of aggression it seemed more about curiosity than a meal. Reaching the Jack
Pine, I pushed Vic off the cut and onto the trail.

Wouldn

t you like to know what

s been following us?

I

d like to know
if it

s
going to eat us.

You

re gonna protect me, aren

t you?


Of course I am, unless it

s a grizz. Then all you have
to do is out run me.

Fat
chance in these rubber boots.

Wait,
there aren

t any grizzly

s in this part of
Saskatchewan. You said so yourself.


You

re a quick study. See you have nothing to worry about.

Taking her arm, I led her underneath the low hanging
branches of the pine just deep enough for us to watch the trail. Maybe five
minutes at the most passed before we heard loud snorting, followed by small
trees crashing to the ground, announcing the arrival of our tracker, aka
Bullwinkle. Stepping through the undergrowth exactly where Vic and I made the
left, an old bull moose appeared, shaking the brush from his antlers.

Oh
my. That moose is at least fourteen hands high. It

s big enough to ride.

Will it bite?

I mouthed to D, hoping in that instant he could read my
lips.

I
slowly put my forefinger to my lips, telling Vic to

Shhh!

We watched in amazement as the old guy sniffed and snorted
the ground around him, doing his best to pick up our scent. After a couple of
minutes, he caught wind of something else that raised his awareness, whereby he
tilted his head high and trotted off into the brush out of sight, but not out
of our memory.

Chapter 33

“M
ind
blowing, D. That was incredible. Did you see how big he was? Did you see how
wide his antlers were? Did you know it was a moose all along?” Question after
question rolled out of my mouth. “That was awesome.”

It
was impressive I had to agree.

Too many questions,

I whispered,

let

s go find the tree stand and
I

ll
answer them up there.

Making
our way down the trail, the forest enveloped us, its density obscuring the late
afternoon sun.

There, over there,

I directed Vic, following the flags along a line of sight
straight to a dark green ladder disappearing high into a tree.

You first.

Of
course me first, I wouldn

t stay down here by myself
.

Wait, what if there

s something up there, D?
Then what?

I
had to laugh.

Then you

ll tell me and I

ll come up and shoo it off.

The ladder rose a good twenty feet through the branches to
a metal tree stand built for two. Following closely behind her, I made sure Vic
knew I was there by the constant cheek pinching I administered each time she
stopped.

You

re almost there. Just a few more feet. Crawl on your belly
through the rail, then stand up and I

ll hand you my gun and gear.

Climb
the ladder, pinch my butt, crawl on my belly, suck my
...

I got it. Stop pinching my
butt. I

m
nervous to be this high in a tree. You

re good at barking orders,
aren

t
you? The next thing you

ll tell me to do is blow...


Stop with the drama. That

s not a bad idea though. I
could use a little stress relief.

I
smacked him on the head, his big one as he climbed up next to the stand.


Ouch! What was that for?


For wanting a blow job at a time like this. Remember, I

m only along for the ride.


You brought it up first, girlfriend. I was trying to
oblige. You have to chill out. Whacking something is bound to calm your nerves.
It sure works for me.

I
grinned ear to ear, the boy in me, anyway. Then, the man in me relented,

Want me to do you? Bet that
would calm you down.

You

re dreaming. Hey, if I could
unzip it and whip it out, I might take you up on that. Men!

Good luck with that. Taking
my clothes off and putting them back on would kill any mood enhancement
generated by your lips and tongue.

Ooh ...
I shivered,
on second thought, nothing ventured, nothing
gained...


Who said anything about lips, I was gonna
—”

Asshole, I was so close to
taking you up on your offer.

I thought this was about me,
remember?


It is about you, this is all about you. Here, take my
stuff,

I added,
passing it up to her waiting hands,

and don

t drop it.

Settled in on the six-foot wide stand with an aluminum
safety railing, I mounted the mini-tripod for the camera and assumed the hurry
up and wait position.

You might as well chill for a while, Vic. We

ve got at least an hour till
show time.


Just where am I supposed to be looking and for what
exactly?

Handing
Vic my binoculars,

look
through the man made cut out in the trees. What do you see 40 plus yards out?


I see a barrel chained to a tree, and a little bear and a
big bear. Oh, that

s so cool

real bears.


Here, let me see,

I stammered, taking the glasses from her, looking in the
direction of the bait barrel. Sure enough, there was a 300 lb. sow wrestling
around the molasses covered oats that filled the 55-gallon drum, but no cub.

Are you sure there were two
bears?

Hell-o
.

I am. The cub was a third of
the size of Mom.

Turning
the camera to video, I handed Vic back the glasses and began filming the momma
bear flipping the drum over and over trying to shake the food onto the ground
before settling down and licking out the grain through the two inch diameter
hole in the end.

Where did the cub go? You were so good at finding it the
first time, let

s see if you can find it again.


See, I am good at other things besides the obvious you
already know: gambling with other peoples

money, criminal law and sex.

Giving
Vic a fist bump, I concurred wholeheartedly, still wondering what happened to
the other bear as I searched right and left through the camera viewfinder. Her
hand was gripping my leg.

What? I complimented you, girlfriend. I

m sure you have many more
talents that I

ve yet to see.

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