tried and tried but couldn’t reach me.”
Fargo glanced at the crushed vegetation below. That explained the grizzly’s tantrum. “We’ll do all we can to protect you.” He spread his arms and smiled. “Please come out.”
Suddenly she was pressed to his chest and sobbing anew. She clung to him with her face in his shirt, her small frame racked by violent shaking.
Wendy coughed and looked away.
Fargo held her until she became quiet and still. “Beth?” he said softly.
She didn’t reply.
Fargo leaned down. Exhaustion and hunger and sorrow had taken their toll; she was sound asleep.
“I’ll be,” Wendy said.
“This changes everything.”
Wendy nodded. “We can’t very well go off after the bear with her to look after. We’ll have to take her to town and come back.” He sighed. “It could be weeks before we find the bear again.”
“It can’t be helped,” Fargo said.
“Any idea who you can leave her with?”
“There’s a church. Maybe the parson will know of someone.” Fargo carried her down the knoll. He had Wendy hold her while he mounted, then the Brit handed her up. She was so small that he could hold her in one arm.
“Look at her,” Wendy said, smiling. “The little angel.”
Fargo reined around.
“You know,” Wendy said as they rode. “Since we’re going back anyway, we might as well spend a few days resting up. I can have that bath. Is there anything you’d like to do?”
Fargo thought of Fanny. “Yes.”
“We’ll buy more supplies and return to the fray refreshed. What do you say?”
By then they had reached the meadow. Wisps of smoke rose from the embers of their fire. The third horse was where they had left it, grazing.
Behind the horse, just coming out of the trees, was Brain Eater.
The very instant that Fargo set eyes on the giant grizzly, she roared and charged. The sorrel burst into flight. For a split second only the picket pin slowed her. But that moment proved costly. The pin came out and the sorrel was in flight but the bear was on her. Iron jaws ripped her flank. A front paw caught her rear leg. The sorrel stumbled and the bear was on her. The horse squealed at the impact. Meat-eater and prey crashed to the ground. Frantic, the sorrel tried to rise but the bear’s maw closed on her throat.
Fargo’s Sharps was in his saddle scabbard and he couldn’t grab it with Bethany in his arm.
Wendy, though, snapped the elephant gun to his shoulder. He took careful aim, saying, “I’ve got you now, you ungodly brute.”
Brain Eater hadn’t noticed them yet. She was tearing and ripping at the sorrel. Blood spurted like rain, soaking the bear’s head and hump.
Tiny fingers clutched at Fargo’s buckskin shirt. Bethany was awake and frozen in terror.
Fargo wondered what Wendy was waiting for; he probably wanted to be sure of a kill shot. But if he took too long and the grizzly spotted them—
Brain Eater looked right at them and let out a loud
Wendy fired. The two-bore boomed and bucked, and so did his mount. He grabbed at the saddle to keep from being thrown and almost dropped the elephant gun.
Fargo’s gaze was glued to the bear. She had stopped as if she’d slammed into a wall. He thought the slug hit her in the chest but he couldn’t be sure. She looked down at herself and then at them. Roaring, she charged.
“Hell,” Fargo said, and reined around. “Light a shuck!” he shouted, and galloped into the woods. Bethany flung her arms around his neck and bleated like a stricken lamb. Fargo glanced back.
Wendolyn was trying to turn his horse but it was giving him trouble. It saw the grizzly rushing toward them and wheeled on its own. Instead of following the Ovaro, though, it bolted in a different direction.
The grizzly stopped and looked after each horse and chose to pursue Wendy’s.
Fargo reined after them. The Brit was a good rider but it would take considerable skill to stay ahead of Brain Eater, as he had learned the hard way. He heard the bear roar and the crash of undergrowth. Wendy was shouting but Fargo couldn’t make out the words.
Bethany began crying into Fargo’s neck and whimpering.
Fargo couldn’t take the time to comfort her. He concentrated on riding and only on riding. He glimpsed a gigantic brown form and would have lashed the reins for the Ovaro to go faster were it not that he had to hold on to Bethany or she would fall.
Wendy had stopped yelling. Fargo lost sight of the bear. He continued in the direction they had been going and was startled a minute later when a roar split the wilds from off to the east. He reined down the mountain and after several minutes drew rein to listen and look.
Bethany had stopped crying and was gazing fearfully about with tear-filled eyes. “Where are they?” she whispered.
Fargo didn’t know. It was quiet—too quiet. “They have to be near here.” Scouring the terrain, he rode on. He was tempted to call Wendy’s name but the grizzly might hear and come after them.
Bethany pressed her cheek to his. “I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
“You are? But you’re a man and you have guns.”
“I bleed like anybody else,” Fargo said.
“Ma liked you,” the girls said out of the blue.
“I liked her, too.”
“She said if she didn’t have Moose she wouldn’t mind being your woman.”
“Did she, now?” Fargo was listening intently.
“Would you have liked Ma to be?”
Fargo looked at her. “Any man would.” He was rewarded with a smile.
The faint crack of what might be a limb put an end to their talk. Fargo descended another quarter of a mile but saw only birds and a squirrel. He began a broader search. They entered a stand of mixed pines, the trees so closely spaced that he couldn’t see more than a dozen yards. A groan caused him to draw rein.
“Did you hear that?” the girl whispered.
“Shhhh.” Fargo positioned her so she was on his left hip and he could get at his holster quickly if need be.
Another groan rose.
Fargo went past more trees. Suddenly the Ovaro shied. There, in the grass, lay the Brit, his hat gone and a deep gash on his forehead. His elephant gun was a few feet away. Fargo didn’t see his horse—or the bear.
Sliding off, Fargo lowered Bethany. “Stay close,” he cautioned. He needn’t have bothered. She glued herself to his leg.
“Wendy?” Fargo said, kneeling. He lightly slapped the hunter’s cheek. “Can you hear me?”
Wendolyn’s eyes opened and he winced and said, “Bloody hell.”
“What happened? Where’s Brain Eater?”
“Gone, I hope.” Wendy rose onto his elbows and gingerly placed a hand on the new wound. “The brute chased off after my horse.”
“You jumped off to save yourself?”
Wendy started to shake his head and winced. “I wish I could claim to be that clever. But no, I was knocked off by a tree limb.”
“It may have saved your life,” Fargo said. “You don’t look too bad off.” The gash wasn’t bleeding and there wasn’t any other wound that he could find.
“It didn’t do my head any favors.” Wendy sat up, with help, and hung his head in misery. “I feel sick. It wouldn’t surprise me if I had a concussion.”
“You’ll be all right, mister,” Bethany said. “We’ll fix you.”
