“What a day it’s been for momentous announcements,” he said.
“I wonder if Tyler’s brother convinced him not to fight it. After all, the police caught him inside our house with the security alarm blaring. It’s not like he could say he wasn’t here.”
She felt Rob’s head nod against her face. Her heart felt full. He was always here for her. She thought about Jethro’s difficulty. She’d be there for him, too. They’d figure things out together.
Amazing, she realized later as she lay in bed next to the man she loved. They had become a team. Whether they were taking care of Maverick, taking care of each other, or taking care of friends, they were better together. Romance and sex were great, but standing together and being there for each other? That’s what love was really all about.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“C’mon, Maverick,” MJ called to the Belgian Malinois as she headed toward the barn. She couldn’t believe all the changes in their lives since Rob became the manager of Mountain View Ranch. Jethro had finished rehab and had come home, but his cardiologist limited him to the things he could handle physically and for which he had the stamina.
Rob handled the heavy physical tasks, and Jethro met with him regularly to discuss the ranch business. She and Rob worked together most weekends, but still made time to date. She smiled at the thought of what she had planned for their date tomorrow. Now that warmer weather was around the corner, they could hike the trails in the national park.
Maverick spent days at the ranch with Rob, and MJ loved how acclimated the cattle and horses were to him. The chickens, not so much. The hens and roosters chased him every chance they got, and Maverick seemed genuinely afraid of them. Usually, he tried to give them a wide berth. This morning was no exception.
“It’s okay, boy,” she reassured him as he eyed an old rooster. “I’ll protect you.”
Rob was meeting with Jethro, and she’d agreed to take the Gator into the farthest pasture to check on the herd. Tyler had seen bear scat close to his ranch. Hibernation must be over.
Maverick rode well in the utility vehicle, alert and watchful as they headed toward the herd. She could see them gathered up near a stand of trees along the fence line.
This herd consisted primarily of heifers that would breed later this spring. They seemed restless. She pulled the machine to a stop so that the engine noise wouldn’t upset them further. She hopped out and called to Maverick to follow.
He moved to her side, ears erect, and eyes focused on the herd. “Looks okay to me, Maverick.”
The hair bristled on his neck and back, and a low-throated growl told her he didn’t agree. “What is it, boy? I don’t see anything.” She strode closer, squinting into a patch of fog and watching the reaction of the cattle.
Suddenly there was a roar, and a black bear came out of the woods, breaking through the fence and charging into the herd of anxious cows. “Oh, hell,” she said, as she pulled herself upright as big as she could. She yelled in her deepest, loudest voice. “Go on! Get out of here!” She ran back to the Gator for the shotgun, pumped it, and shot into the air.
The herd scattered, but the bear took off after one of the smaller heifers. “No, damn it!” she screamed. “Leave her alone!” She raced toward the cows, waving her arms, hoping to scare him away.
She realized her mistake immediately as the bear turned to face her, the cow forgotten. Maverick growled deep and loud and put himself between her and the bear. The bear hesitated and then charged. The war dance was on between them. Maverick circled, barking and snarling at the predator. The bear charged and swiped at the warrior dog with his curled claws. Maverick dodged and weaved, staying outside the bear’s reach initially, but as the fight moved closer to MJ, Maverick swept in closer, snapping and biting at the angry bear.
“Oh, God,” MJ whispered, as she watched the fight, unsure how to stop it. How could she send the animal back into the woods and protect the herd? Maybe if she shot into the air, she could scare him away. All of Maverick’s attention was on the fight, but he was panting heavily from exertion as he teased the bear into pursuing him instead of his mistress.
She pumped the shotgun again and pointed it up toward tops of the trees at the edge of the field. The report was loud, and the gun jumped in her grasp. She heard a yelp and saw Maverick somersault backward. “No!” she screamed. She couldn’t have hit him—
The bear was closer now, and the stench of him made her want to gag. She pumped the shotgun again and leveled it at the bear. He stared at her, and then at Maverick, who lay on the grass ten feet away. She reacted and fired, reloaded and fired again, until both the gun and her jacket pockets were empty of shells. The bear lay on the ground near her, unmoving.
She studied him carefully to make sure he was down and ran toward Maverick. He was alive, and his tail thumped weakly as she approached and squatted over him. His hip was bloody, and she couldn’t tell if he had any other injuries.
She ran to the Gator and drove it close to him, taking a deep breath. “It’ll be okay, boy. Just relax as best you can. I’ll get you home.”
He whined in response.
“Calma, Maverick. Va bene.” She took a deep breath and lifted him into the back of the ATV, struggling with his weight. She pulled the phone out of her coat pocket and called Rob.
“It’s me,” she said
