“You’re as good as your father now. Maybe even better.”
“I don’t know about that. I was going to practice a lot more this summer.” She sent him a smile. “But I’ve been distracted. The brush, the boulders. That’s what she’d stick to if she was hunting. And I’m not sure…” She stopped, and eased her horse to the right. “Scat. It’s cougar.”
“I think it’s good tracking to be able to tell one pile of shit from another.”
“Tracking 101. It’s not real fresh. Yesterday, the day before. But this is part of her territory. Or if not hers, probably another female. Their territories can overlap.”
“Why not a male?”
“Mostly they steer clear of females, until mating season. Then it’s all, Hey, baby, you know you want it. Of course, I love you. Sure, I’ll respect you in the morning. Get it, then get gone.”
He narrowed his eyes as she grinned. “You have no respect for our species.”
“Oh, I don’t know, some of you are okay. Besides, you love me.” The minute the words were out, she straightened in the saddle. Couldn’t take them back, she realized, and shifted to look him in the eye. “Don’t you?”
“I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do about you.” He gave her an easy smile. “And I always respect you in the morning.”
There was a nagging thought at the back of her brain that it wasn’t enough. She wanted the words, just the power of those words. But she’d be damned if she’d ask for them.
She continued on, aiming for the high grass shelf where she’d seen the cat take down the calf. She found other signs, more scrapings. Cougar and buck. Brush trampled down by a herd of mule deer.
But when they reached the grass, nothing roamed or grazed.
“Nice spot,” Coop observed. “Is this still your land?”
“Yeah, just,” she replied as she gazed across the vista.
She started across the grass toward the trees where she’d once watched the cougar drag her kill. “My mother said there used to be bear, but they got hunted out, driven out. The cougar and the wolf stay, but you have to look to find them. The Hills are a mixing bowl, biologically speaking. We get species here that are common to areas in every direction.”
“Like a singles bar.”
She laughed at him. “I’ll take your word. Still, we lost the bear. If we could… There’s blood.”
“Where?”
“On that tree. On the ground, too. It looks dry.”
She swung her leg across the saddle.
“Wait. If this is a kill site, she could be close. If she’s got a litter she won’t be happy to see you.”
“Why is it on the tree? So high on the tree.” Drawing out her camera, Lil walked closer. “She could’ve taken out an elk or deer, I guess, and it fought, or it hit the tree. But it just doesn’t look like that.”
“And you know how that would look?”
“In my head I do.” She glanced back, saw he had the rifle. “I don’t want you to shoot her.”
“Neither do I.” He’d shot nothing but targets, and didn’t want to shoot the living, especially her cat.
Frowning, Lil turned back to the tree, studied it, the ground. “It looks like she dragged the kill off that way. See how the brush looks? And there’s more blood.” She crouched, poked at the ground. “There’s blood on the ground, on the brush. I thought she took the buffalo calf that way. More east. Maybe she had to move her den, or it’s another cat altogether. Keep talking and stay alert. As long as we don’t surprise her or threaten her or her young, she won’t be interested in us.”
She inched her way, trying to follow the signs. As she’d said, the trail was rough here, steep, rocky. It didn’t surprise her to see some signs of hikers, and she wondered if the cat had moved to avoid them.
“There’s more scat. Fresher.” She looked over and just beamed. “We’re tracking her.”
“Whoopee.”
“If I could get a shot of her and her young…” She stopped, sniffed. “Do you smell that?”
“Now I do. Something’s dead.” When she started forward, he took her arm. “I can follow it from here. You stay behind me.”
“But-”
“Behind me and the rifle, or we turn back. I’m stronger than you are, Lil, so believe me when I say we’ll turn back.”
“Well, if you’re going to get all macho.”
“I guess I am.” He walked forward, following the stench.
“West,” she directed, “a little more west. It’s off the trail.” She scanned brush, trees, rocks as they moved. “God, you wonder how she can stomach anything that smells like that. Maybe they abandoned the kill. Chowed down, moved on. Nothing picked clean is going to smell like that. It looks like a lot of blood around here, and then into the brush.”
She stepped over. She didn’t move in front of him, but beside him. It wasn’t her fault the signs were on her side. “I see something in there. Definitely something there.” She strained to see. “If she still considers it hers, and she’s around, she’ll let us know quick. I can’t see what it is, can you?”
“Dead is what it is.”
“Yes, but what was the prey? I like to know what… Oh, my God. Cooper. Oh, my God.”
He saw it as she did. The prey had been human.
LIL WASN’T PROUD of the way she’d handled herself, the way her legs had buckled, the way her head had gone light. She’d damn near fainted, and certainly would’ve gone down if Coop hadn’t gotten hold of her.
She managed to help him mark the spot, but only because he’d ordered her to keep back. She made herself look, forced herself to see and remember what had been done before she’d gone back to her mount for her canteen to drink deeply.
She’d been steadier, and able to think clearly enough to mark the trail for those who would have to come for the remains. Coop kept the rifle out as they rode back home.
There’d be no final tryst by the stream.
“You can put the rifle away. It wasn’t a cat that killed him.”
“Her, I think,” Coop said. “The size and the style of the boots, and what was left of the hair. I think it was a woman. You think wolves, then?”
“I don’t know about that. I was going to practice a lot more this summer.” She sent him a smile. “But I’ve been distracted. The brush, the boulders. That’s what she’d stick to if she was hunting. And I’m not sure…” She stopped, and eased her horse to the right. “Scat. It’s cougar.”
“I think it’s good tracking to be able to tell one pile of shit from another.”
“Tracking 101. It’s not real fresh. Yesterday, the day before. But this is part of her territory. Or if not hers, probably another female. Their territories can overlap.”
“Why not a male?”
“Mostly they steer clear of females, until mating season. Then it’s all, Hey, baby, you know you want it. Of course, I love you. Sure, I’ll respect you in the morning. Get it, then get gone.”
He narrowed his eyes as she grinned. “You have no respect for our species.”
“Oh, I don’t know, some of you are okay. Besides, you love me.” The minute the words were out, she straightened in the saddle. Couldn’t take them back, she realized, and shifted to look him in the eye. “Don’t you?”
“I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do about you.” He gave her an easy smile. “And I always respect you in the morning.”
There was a nagging thought at the back of her brain that it wasn’t enough. She wanted the words, just the power of those words. But she’d be damned if she’d ask for them.
She continued on, aiming for the high grass shelf where she’d seen the cat take down the calf. She found other signs, more scrapings. Cougar and buck. Brush trampled down by a herd of mule deer.
But when they reached the grass, nothing roamed or grazed.
“Nice spot,” Coop observed. “Is this still your land?”
“Yeah, just,” she replied as she gazed across the vista.
She started across the grass toward the trees where she’d once watched the cougar drag her kill. “My mother said there used to be bear, but they got hunted out, driven out. The cougar and the wolf stay, but you have to look to find them. The Hills are a mixing bowl, biologically speaking. We get species here that are common to areas in every direction.”
“Like a singles bar.”
She laughed at him. “I’ll take your word. Still, we lost the bear. If we could… There’s blood.”
“Where?”
“On that tree. On the ground, too. It looks dry.”
She swung her leg across the saddle.
“Wait. If this is a kill site, she could be close. If she’s got a litter she won’t be happy to see you.”
“Why is it on the tree? So high on the tree.” Drawing out her camera, Lil walked closer. “She could’ve taken out an elk or deer, I guess, and it fought, or it hit the tree. But it just doesn’t look like that.”
“And you know how that would look?”
“In my head I do.” She glanced back, saw he had the rifle. “I don’t want you to shoot her.”
“Neither do I.” He’d shot nothing but targets, and didn’t want to shoot the living, especially her cat.
Frowning, Lil turned back to the tree, studied it, the ground. “It looks like she dragged the kill off that way. See how the brush looks? And there’s more blood.” She crouched, poked at the ground. “There’s blood on the ground, on the brush. I thought she took the buffalo calf that way. More east. Maybe she had to move her den, or it’s another cat altogether. Keep talking and stay alert. As long as we don’t surprise her or threaten her or her young, she won’t be interested in us.”
She inched her way, trying to follow the signs. As she’d said, the trail was rough here, steep, rocky. It didn’t surprise her to see some signs of hikers, and she wondered if the cat had moved to avoid them.
“There’s more scat. Fresher.” She looked over and just beamed. “We’re tracking her.”
“Whoopee.”
“If I could get a shot of her and her young…” She stopped, sniffed. “Do you smell that?”
“Now I do. Something’s dead.” When she started forward, he took her arm. “I can follow it from here. You stay behind me.”
“But-”
“Behind me and the rifle, or we turn back. I’m stronger than you are, Lil, so believe me when I say we’ll turn back.”
“Well, if you’re going to get all macho.”
“I guess I am.” He walked forward, following the stench.
“West,” she directed, “a little more west. It’s off the trail.” She scanned brush, trees, rocks as they moved. “God, you wonder how she can stomach anything that smells like that. Maybe they abandoned the kill. Chowed down, moved on. Nothing picked clean is going to smell like that. It looks like a lot of blood around here, and then into the brush.”
She stepped over. She didn’t move in front of him, but beside him. It wasn’t her fault the signs were on her side. “I see something in there. Definitely something there.” She strained to see. “If she still considers it hers, and she’s around, she’ll let us know quick. I can’t see what it is, can you?”
“Dead is what it is.”
“Yes, but what was the prey? I like to know what… Oh, my God. Cooper. Oh, my God.”
He saw it as she did. The prey had been human.
LIL WASN’T PROUD of the way she’d handled herself, the way her legs had buckled, the way her head had gone light. She’d damn near fainted, and certainly would’ve gone down if Coop hadn’t gotten hold of her.
She managed to help him mark the spot, but only because he’d ordered her to keep back. She made herself look, forced herself to see and remember what had been done before she’d gone back to her mount for her canteen to drink deeply.
She’d been steadier, and able to think clearly enough to mark the trail for those who would have to come for the remains. Coop kept the rifle out as they rode back home.
There’d be no final tryst by the stream.
“You can put the rifle away. It wasn’t a cat that killed him.”
“Her, I think,” Coop said. “The size and the style of the boots, and what was left of the hair. I think it was a woman. You think wolves, then?”
