Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,34
attempt to redeem myself, the crunch of crumbling brush under approaching footfalls has me searching our perimeter. In the shadows cast by branches, a red fox slinks in our direction. His scampering approach is stealthy as fuck. Sly as these creatures are, that’s no surprise.
Blakely follows my line of focus, zeroing in on the scavenger. “Oh, what a cutie.”
I grunt. “I guess.”
She cocks her head to the side, gaze still latched onto our visitor. “He’s harmless, right?”
“Yeah, mostly curious. Probably hungry. He’s small and poses no threat to us other than stealing our scraps.”
“But feeding him will attract his friends?” Her tone holds a hint of hope that the opposite is true. Not enough to make me feel bad for confirming her assumption, though.
“Correct. If we ignore him, he’ll go elsewhere. We’re scary enough that he won’t dare getting too close.”
And that’s exactly what happens. After doing a thorough sniff of our general area, the little guy wanders off the way he came. Blakely stands and stretches once we’re alone again.
She gestures at my dish. “I’ll clean these out.”
I study her smooth movements as she bends toward the shallow waters. Is this a rustic spin on domestic bliss or what? That has me jostling the loose screws inside my brain. I’ve probably had too much fresh air. That’s been known to do strange things to a man’s proper functioning. I force my attention elsewhere and gather an armful of logs. Tending to the fire will reinstate my man-card.
“Um, Halder?”
I don’t turn from stoking the coals. “Yeah?”
“We have company.”
“Another fox?”
“This is a bit bigger. And by bit, I mean quite a lot.”
The shaking edge to her tone gets my full concentration. I peer over my shoulder and freeze. Where the inquisitive scrounger was lingering five minutes earlier, a massive gray wolf now waits.
“Shit,” I spit. My muscles flex at the sight of this dangerous predator. When I glance at Blakely, her face is pale, and she’s visibly trembling.
She covers her ghostly cheeks with quaking hands. “What should we do?”
The wolf prowls forward another step. I’m no coward, but this beast will rip us apart. “Find a hiding place.”
“Aren’t they scared of us?”
“More like indifferent, unless they’re hungry enough. Come here.” I wave at the space between her and my side.
She inches toward me on wobbling legs. “Should we run?”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. Can you climb a tree?”
“Will that work?”
“Either that or take our chances trying to scare him off with fire.”
That doesn’t sound safe. The lone intruder puts one menacing paw in front of the other, looking ready to attack. Blakely’s gulp is audible. “Okay, tree it is.”
I sling the bag with our food over my shoulder and clasp onto Blakely’s hand. Her grip is white-knuckled and rattles my arm. I do a quick scan of the available options within close sprinting distance. A sturdy spruce with low branches snags my gaze. I point at our chance for escape. She bobs her head while blinking away tears.
“Ready?”
Another nod is all it takes for me to propel her on a fast getaway. Blakely slips on the first gnarly limb, and my stomach crashes to the icy floor. A thundering whoosh slams into my ears, thrashing with the force of a hurricane. I lift until her feet hover above the ground. When she whimpers, I give her a boost onto the next accessible bough. Sap and bark stick to my palms. Twigs whip my face with fiery lashes, but I hardly feel a sting.
Our upward jaunt isn’t graceful, but we get out of danger’s way all the same. Watching Blakely’s ass shimmy up the trunk is almost hypnotizing enough to make me forget my own name. The threat of a killer savage is ancient history. But the rumbling growl from below slaps me into the right frame of mind.
Once we’re out of grabbing range, I guide Blakely onto the nearest branch large enough to support her weight. I choose a spot farther up on the left. After testing the strength, I prop my ass on a forked section and sit backward so she remains in full view.
Blakely’s eyes are blown so wide that more white than blue shows. “Holy shit.”
I wrench off my hat for some much-needed relief. The blast of frosty air singes my sweaty flesh. “That was too fucking close.”
“You saved my life.” Her panting exhales steam up the space separating us.
“We’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Close enough for me.”
We glance down, tracking the wolf as he stalks around our