The Curvy Astronomer and the Cowboy (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) (10 page)

It sounded great. It sounded
too
good. I’d been running for so long, and objects that are moving have a tendency to
keep
moving. This was like having a huge, iron anchor suddenly offered to me--I’d be going from running full tilt to stopping dead.

I bit my lip and shook my head.

“Is that ‘no’?” he asked, concerned.

I shook my head again. “I don’t know,” I said. “I need to think. Can you give me some time? I want to--” Suddenly, the cosy little cabin seemed claustrophobic. I needed to be somewhere familiar. “I want to be outside. In the trailer. Just for a while, okay?”

He looked towards the window and I could see the worry in his eyes.

“It’s just snow,” I told him. God, he was so
worried
about me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone worried about me, and it nearly made me lose it and throw myself into his arms right there. But I needed to think. If I said
yes,
I wanted to know I meant it. “I’ll be fine.”

“You always say that,” he countered. But he let me go.

***

Outside, the air was crisply cold but not as bitterly chill as it had been the night before. The wind was gone, which helped. In fact, everywhere was very still, as if the world was holding its breath. And the softness of the snow deadened all sound. My sneakers crunching through the snow were the loudest thing for miles.
If I do stay out here,
I thought ruefully,
I’m really going to have to invest in some proper country clothes.

The snow was piled up thick around the trailer, but I was just able to get the outer shell hinged down. I slumped down next to the telescope to think.

The last few days had changed me in ways I couldn’t have believed before I came here. As I looked down at myself, my position wasn’t so very different to when I’d been sitting by the side of the road, but the feelings inside were. I didn’t hate myself. I mean, I hadn’t been suddenly transformed into someone who loved every inch of her curves, but I could dare to believe that maybe I was beautiful just the way I was. Every time I saw him looking at me, I felt better about myself. I was heading in the right direction.

But that’s what made it so difficult. I could feel my own self-worth getting tangled up in this. I’d been independent for so long--unhappy, sure, but independent. Stopping here with Troy would mean tethering myself to him. Breaking up with Rick had been devastating and I’d hit rock bottom. But being lifted up by Troy and then dropped again...that would be even worse. And could I really just
stop?
Just park the station wagon by Troy’s house and stay with him and start living in Mustang Falls? Get pregnant--if I wasn’t already? Raise a family with him?

It wasn’t as if there was anything waiting for me on the road, let alone back in San Fran. But it was such a sudden change. Mustang Falls was quaint and homely and everyone knew each other’s name. I was a city girl. Troy had found me lost and alone and was trying to walk me into town like an unbroken mare, and I loved him for it, but part of me just wanted to bolt.

I sighed, turning it over and over in my head. I was getting seriously cold, but I wasn’t ready to go inside and face Troy, yet--I didn’t know what I’d tell him. And then I remembered that there was something I could do out here that would make me feel better
and
warm me up.

I fired up the camping stove and huddled into the tiny nook behind it, the telescope and the lowered sides of the trailer almost hiding me from view. I’d sat there a million times on the road, snuggled in and safe. It was comforting even now, although…. My heart sank. Now that I’d experienced the warmth and security of the cabin, of another person’s arms around me, it didn’t seem quite as cozy as before.

I pulled out the frying pan and tore open the packet of bacon. The bread was freezing cold, but I warmed it over the pan while the bacon cooked. I’d fry the bread, if I had to. A bacon sandwich was exactly what I needed.

He’d talked about kids. And I’d let him take me without a condom. I put my hand instinctively down over my stomach. The idea would have seemed crazy even a week before. But now...I felt a connection with Troy I hadn’t felt with Rick, the whole time we’d been together. Rick, in a weird way, had been too like me--flighty and nervous, always looking ahead to the next thing, never living in the moment. He’d already been seeking something else, some
one
else, even when he was with me. Troy, though...he felt as real and solid as a redwood, as if he could continue on, unchanging, for a thousand years. Maybe that’s what I needed--someone solid to cling onto. Someone who would cling on to
me,
and never let me go.

The bacon was done. I turned off the stove. I knew I should get up and go inside and talk to Troy, tell him that I wanted to be with him. The more I thought about it, the more my doubts faded away...but there was just enough of a bone-deep worry that I held back.
Maybe I’ll stay here for just a few minutes more,
I thought, knowing full well I was procrastinating.
I’ll eat the sandwich. Then I’ll--

And then I heard the crunch of his footsteps through the snow. He was already quite close--the snow must have muffled his approach. I felt the trailer groan and tilt as he stepped up onto it.

“Okay,” I said, leaning forward out of my nook so that I could see him. “Okay, I’m coming, I’m coming….”

I looked up into the face of the bear.

Chapter 8

I knew exactly what had happened. I could see it all unfolding in my mind. The bear, plodding hungrily through the forest, the fresh snow confounding his search for food. The smell of the cooking bacon, wafting through the trees. Me in my little nook, hidden from view. The bear had thought he’d found a deserted campsite and had come right up to the stove to take the food...only for me to lean out into his face.

Troy’s words came back to me.
The most dangerous thing you can do is surprise them.

The bear’s face was maybe a foot from my own, its mouth open and its teeth shining whitely. It didn’t look in any way cute, up close. It looked terrifying.

I tried to scream, but my throat seemed to be locked closed. I gave a strangled cry instead, which probably saved my life because a scream would have panicked it even more. I shrank back into my nook, feeling the solid metal of the trailer behind me. There was nowhere to go.

The bear backed up a little--just enough to raise one massive paw. Gleaming black claws swept only a few inches from my face--a warning swipe.

He thought I was trying to take his food.

The trailer groaned again as the bear shifted its weight. It reared up on its hind legs, rocking a little, unused to the surface. The trailers wheels shrieked beneath us, unused to the extra load. The bear threw back its head and roared so loud my ears rang and the sound echoed around and around the plateau. I knew what would happen next. The bear would fall forward onto me, its claws tearing and slicing, its head lowered towards my throat.

“
HEY!”
A voice I recognized, but one that filled me with an even deeper dread, because I knew immediately what he was trying to do. It was followed by a loud, metal clang. “HEY!”

The bear turned and I managed to look past it and see Troy, standing at the rear of the trailer. His eyes were wide with fear and anger and he was smacking the edge of an iron skillet against the trailer’s side. He made a sudden lunge towards the bear--not actually touching it, but threatening it. Drawing its attention. Making himself the target.

“No…” I whispered out loud. But already, the bear was turning, lumbering towards him. The whole trailer tilted as the bear fell onto all fours and started towards Troy.

“
Run!”
he yelled to me. He backed up a few steps, still holding the skillet out towards the bear--a puny weapon against its might.

On trembling legs, I managed to stand up and climb awkwardly over the lowered shell and out of the trailer. I had a clear run to the cabin. But that would leave Troy on his own.

The bear was advancing on him, its huge muscles rippling under its fur, the ground almost seeming to shake under its paws. I knew Troy wouldn’t be able to outrun it, if it went for him.

“Emily,
go to the cabin!”
he yelled without looking at me. He sidled to the right. The bear did the same, the gap closing all the time.

I took a step towards the cabin, then another. Then I was running full tilt for the door. The bear didn’t even look up, completely focused on Troy.

I barrelled through the door and inside, holding it open for Troy. I saw him glance at me, making sure I was safe.

That glance was his undoing.

The bear lunged for him, slapping at him with one huge paw. Troy went sideways, the force of the impact tumbling him into the snow. The bear was on him in a second, ducking its head and pushing at him, then swiping with its claws.

Bright red blood splattered the snow.

I screamed long and loud, but the bear didn’t even lift its head. I saw Troy raise an arm weakly to ward it off, but the bear lunged forward and this time bit.

I spun around, eyes wild, searching for a gun, an axe, anything.
This is all my fault!
The range was full of burning logs. Could I shove one of those in its face? How would I hold it?

Then I saw the fire extinguisher.

A second later I was outside, tearing off the plastic safety tab, running straight at the bear in the hope it would turn around. And praying,
praying
that the thing would work.

The bear turned its head towards me. My legs wanted to collapse under me when I saw that its teeth were stained red, but I staggered on. We were only a few feet apart when I unloaded the extinguisher into its face.

The bear snarled and tossed its head, coughing, its face dusted with white powder. It coughed again and turned away, glaring but uncertain. I followed it with the nozzle, ready to spray it again if I needed to. But then it dropped back, coughing. I must have gotten lucky and hit it right when it was drawing in its breath.

The bear finally turned and lumbered away, shaking its head to rid itself of the powder. I fell to my knees beside Troy.

He’d gone almost as pale as the snow. Blood was coursing from bite marks on his neck and shoulder and his shirt was torn open in long, bloody rents across his chest. The snow around him was soaked red. I felt sick as I saw how much blood there was.
I have to get him to hospital. And I can’t. I trapped us up here.

The whole thing was my fault. My fault for cooking food outside. My fault for getting us stuck up here. My fault for walking into his life in the first place. He needed some local girl who knew about life out here, not a scared, broken girl on the run.

But right now, I was all he had.

I knew I had to stop the bleeding. I bundled off my jacket and one of my shirts, wadded them up and pressed it against his neck. He groaned at the pain, worryingly weakly. When I touched his arm, his skin was already cooling.
I have to get him out of here!

I got an arm under him and pulled him to his feet. I knew I wouldn’t be able to move him on my own, so I had to get him to walk, even though every step must have been agony for him. Together, we stumbled over to the half-buried pickup. God, I could barely even see the windshield!

Luckily, he’d left it unlocked. I got him into the passenger seat, scraped some of the snow from the windshield, found the keys and jumped into the driver’s seat.
Start,
I thought, hitting the button.
Please, please start.

The engine coughed but caught. I fumbled with the unfamiliar gears and revved the engine. We lurched forward, but then jolted to a stop.

I looked behind us. The trailer was still hitched to us and open to the sky. Even if I closed it up and took off the brakes, we’d never move its weight in the snow.

I jumped out, ran around to the back and unhitched it. When I got back in, Troy rasped, “You can’t just leave it here.”

“Yes I damn well can,” I spluttered. It was the first time I realized tears were streaming down my face.

I hit the gas. The wheels spun and spun, digging deeper and deeper into the drift...and finally gained traction.

Chapter 9

Our progress was achingly slow down the steep mountain roads. Every time I glanced to the side, I could see Troy’s blood soaking through the wadded shirt. He barely had the strength to keep it pressed to his neck, and however much I talked to him and yelled at him to stay awake, he kept drifting off. When we finally reached the road into town, it had been cleared of snow...but it was still treacherously icy. I should have been crawling along at twenty. Instead, terrified by Troy’s pale face and labored breathing, I gunned the pickup up to sixty. Twice, we skidded almost off the road. I was panting and sobbing, shouting at Troy to not pass out, to keep the shirt pressed on the wound. I was crying so hard my hands started to slip on the tear-wet wheel.

I had no idea where I was going. I doubt I would have been able to find the hospital. But Mustang Falls gifted me with one shred of fortune. Just outside town, the sheriff and one of his deputies were drinking coffee in a patrol car, watching out for speeding cars. When the pickup roared by them, skidding and weaving, they chased after us with their siren wailing. And when I screeched to a halt and they saw Troy’s limp body, they gave me a police escort right to the emergency room.