The small brown cabin blended into the backdrop of forest, and she almost missed it. Braking hard, she took the turn too fast, fishtailing in the gravel. She recognized the black truck as the one in front of his log cabin survival school. Judgment was minutes away.
She’d spent a small fortune on her evil plans. Not only paying Bennett for his services but also outfitting herself. “Outdoorsy” wasn’t a word that described her wardrobe. Lying out on the beach had never held any allure, and while the inlets were pretty, she’d never had the urge to explore farther than the dock. She preferred to hole up in her room for hours with stacks of books. The hazard of being a librarian’s kid.
She parked next to his truck and gathered her courage. With the car off, it didn’t take long for the cold to seep through cracks, driven by the whistling wind. Spending the night outside might not be bad if there was a fire to huddle next to. Or would it be like the one miserable camping trip she went on in Girl Scouts? Cookies be damned, she’d dropped out after the trip.
Her new water-resistant hiking boots squeaked as she got out of the car, pulled a backpack over the console, and swung it over one shoulder. His email—to her mom’s email address, which had been fun to explain—had laid out exactly what she’d needed to bring. A tent hadn’t been included.
The wind cut through her layers of clothes in the short walk to the door. She debated the merits of turning around. A woof at the window ruined her retreat. The door opened and a stranger in a brown park ranger uniform greeted her warmly.
“You must be Gail Frazier. I’m Seth. Bennett will be right out. Come on in.”
A smile was difficult in the face of her mom’s name. Denials and excuses would be upon her soon enough, so she took Seth’s hand in a shake.
“Hey, Jack.” The dog’s tail whipped back and forth as he bumped her hand for a pat. The dog was way friendlier than his owner, that’s for sure.
“Ah, you’ve met the beast.” Seth gestured toward a small kitchen. “Can I get you some hot tea or coffee before you head out into the wilderness?”
“Coffee would be great. Black is fine.”
He poured from a stained pot into a chipped mug with The Great Dismal Swamp written across the side in fancy script. She thanked him on the handoff. “Have you been the ranger here long?”
“Two years.” He had a thick beard a few shades darker than his hair, which made it difficult to pin an age to him, but unlike Bennett, no gray hairs peeked out. The twinkling good humor in his eyes landed him in his midtwenties at a guess. “I couldn’t ask for a better gig. It’s less about public relations and more about science collection. Marshes and swamps like the Dismal have amazingly diverse ecosystems. Big predators and—”
“How big?” Her hand tightened on the mug.
“Black bears are common. And then there’s the—”
“Common?” She riffled through what she knew about bears, which was dominated by Ben’s Winnie-the-Pooh bedtime stories and Goldilocks’s encounter. “But it’s winter. They’re in hibernation, right?”
The excitement of a zealot vibrated Seth’s voice. “Black bears don’t hibernate; they enter torpor. They’re lethargic and sleep more than usual but will come out and snack.”
“Snack on people?”
Seth’s laugh reverberated through the room. “I doubt it.”
A door in the back opened, and Bennett backed into the room, maneuvering his pack. It was considerably bigger than hers. A black toboggan covered his head, but the ends of his hair flipped up at the bottom. A dark-green Henley stretched across his broad shoulder and was half-tucked into black pants with more pockets than any reasonable person could fill. But, damn, they fit him well. The heartbeat before he turned, she forced her gaze off his butt to meet his eyes.
She wasn’t worried about a black bear eating her like a fruit roll-up anymore. She was worried about the very real Grizzly making the room feel small.
“Ms. Frazier, I hope the drive was—” The smile on his face morphed into a grimace. “What are you doing here? You’re not Gail Frazier.”
“Gail is my mom. I’m here in her place.”
Bennett stared her down. The anger roiling through the silence generated its own energy. All directed at her. Seth glanced between them, then shuffled to the nearest window and pressed his nose to the glass like a kid trying to spot Bigfoot.
She made a sweeping gesture between them. “I realize how this looks—”
“You lied.”
“No.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Okay, well, I sort of misled you—”
“Lied.” He barked the word like an epitaph.
“You wouldn’t have seen me otherwise, would you?” She set her mug on the counter with a small clatter. Damn her shaking hands. He was trained to exploit weaknesses.
“No. Because I have nothing else to say to you.”
“Fine.” Obviously, a direct assault was impossible, but she could flank him. “That’s not why I’m here anyway. I’m here because I need to learn survival skills.”
“Why?”
“Because…” She bobbed her head and harrumphed. “You know, the apocalypse is coming. The end is nigh and all that.”
“When did you turn into a bible-thumper?”
“I’ve always thumped the Bible. It’s how I was raised.” If her mom could hear the nonsense coming out of her mouth, she would have taken Harper over her knee for a different kind of thumping.
“No, it wasn’t.” His absolute confidence stoked a flame of anger in her chest.
“You don’t know—” The realization that he might indeed know hit her like a punch to the throat. “How do you know that?”
He’d already admitted Noah had talked about her. How much had he shared with this bear of a man who had been undeniably kind but refused to give her what she wanted the most—the truth?
“It doesn’t matter how. This”—he waved his finger between them—“is not happening.”
“Wait. I’ve already paid. And … and … if you don’t take me then I’ll be forced to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau.” It was an empty threat, but he didn’t need to know that. Throwing more fuel on her pretend outrage, she added, “Is this because I’m a woman? Are you discriminating against me?”
“For the love of…” His eye roll was epic. He shuffled his feet farther apart and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s going to drop below freezing tonight with a chance of snow. The night will be bleak unless you can get a fire started.”
“But you’re the guide.”
“Instructor, not guide. The first thing you need to learn about survival is that there are consequences when you can’t get the basics done. You have to put the work in. It’s what you paid for. And you’ll need the skills to survive the apocalypse, right?”
A teeny-tiny spark of humor in his face threatened to set off an explosion of maniacal laughter in her. She’d won the skirmish.
“When do we get started?” She tried not to look smug.
“Right now.” He glanced toward the door. “That your pack?”
“Stuffed full of everything on your list.” Plus the makings for s’mores, which in retrospect might have been a tad optimistic. Or delusional.
He examined her head to foot, shook his head, but didn’t say anything. “Let’s hit it. Thanks, Seth. Will you be around on Sunday?”
Seth had turned and was half-sitting on the windowsill, watching them. “If the weather clears I’m scheduled to inventory the geese population. You two take care out there. If the front moves farther south than predicted, it’s likely to be a rough couple of days.”
“You can still cancel and get a full refund.” Bennett shot her a side-eye.