Snowfall (8 page)

Jake kept his eye on the cougar. She watched him while she kept her those teeth like a vise on Poncho’s back. He didn’t know if Poncho was moving, he couldn’t take his eyes off the cat to check. He pulled the shotgun from the holster and slowly slid his backpack off his shoulders. In a voice as loud of a shout as he could make because he knew cougars hated loud noises, he told Ashley, “Run. Get to the dogs and let ’em loose.” When she hesitated, he gave her a push. “Go! They may be the only ones who can save him. Run!” Ashley made a wide berth around Poncho and the cougar and raced down the trail. It was a good half-mile to where they’d tied off the dogs and she didn’t waste any time getting to them.

Jake opened his arms wide, making himself as big as possible and continued to shout. The cat seemed unimpressed and started to tug backward, intending to drag Poncho away to eat in private.

“Oh, hell no!” Jake lifted the shotgun and shot in the air. She flinched, stilled, but didn’t let go. He shot again. When that still didn’t get her to release, Jake took aim just to the left of her and blew a foot of snow over them. That got her to jump back. She jumped forward again, in a crouch over Poncho with her ears pinned and a lip-curled snarl that warned him not to come closer. It was a warning he didn’t heed.

He lifted the shotgun again, aimed to her right and
BANG!
another foot of snow blew over them again. She snarled even more and took a swipe at the hole he’d blown in the ground next to her. But she still didn’t give up her position over Poncho. “Don’t make me do this, you stupid,” with anger and regret he brought the gun to his shoulder one last time, “stubborn,” he took aim, this time right between her eyes, “bitch.” His finger tensed to squeeze. Just then she leapt in the air and raced through the trees, Grover, Bernie and the girls hot on her tail.

With a vicious curse, Jake dropped the gun and raced to Poncho’s side. He was alive, because while Jake had watched the dogs chase off the cougar, Poncho had managed to turn over. Poncho’s shoulders were bleeding. Tufts of down were crimson with blood on both sides. One of the arms was lying at an odd angle that told Jake she’d wrenched it from its socket when she’d taken him down. His swarthy skin was pale and gray from pain, blood loss or both. Jake tore off one glove and felt for a pulse, dreading the worst. Poncho grabbed his hand with the arm he could move and limply shook his head. “It’s no use,” he coughed, weakly. “Don’t kill her. Prom—” another cough, “promise me.” He met Jake’s eyes, his fierce in passion. “Promise. Relocate. Not her fault.” A wave of pain hit him and he arched with a moan and went limp.

“Oh God! No!” Ashley collapsed next to them, tears streaming and breath coming in gasps. “Please, Poncho. No!”

He managed a small smile and said, “Shhh. Don’t cry. Shhh, no. S’okay. S’okay.”

Ashley shook her head, “No. It’s not. It’s not okay.”

Ashley looked at Jake. “I’ll get take the boys and get the mobile. The girls will stay with you.” She sniffled and tried to stop the quivering of her chin.

“I’ll run, and we’ll be ba-back.” She looked at Poncho, fire in her eyes, “You are going to be fine, and you be here when I get back. Do you hear me? You be here.”

“Wait, Ash,” Jake said softly. He hadn‘t taken his eyes off of his friend. “Ponch, let me see what she did. I’m going to roll you just a little. Let me take a look.”

“S’no use, amigo.” Poncho tried to fight it but tears of regret filled his eyes. “I felt the pop. When she bit. I felt the pop of my spine.” Even now he felt the heat of the flood that had poured from the wound going cold underneath him. He was soaked with it. It was worrisome that he was cold so soon. He knew that was the first of the last things he’d feel before death took him.

If he had to die now, he was glad it was with them. The best friend he ever had and the only woman he knew that was good enough for him. “He loves you, you know.” Poncho told her, thinking it was a good last word. “He’s loved you since the first time he came down this mountain.” Jake tried to move him again and he arched and cursed, Ashley stopped him with a touch.

“Shhh. It’s fine. Don-don’t talk.” Tears overwhelmed her and he figured he should get it said quick, he was starting to go numb.

“S’true. He came down and told me.” He had to stop as fire shot through his shoulder, “he told me: ‘Ponch, I just got turned down by the best-lookin’ woman I ever met’ and I knew. You were difrn’t. See, he never said one word to me b’fore how a girl looked. So, I knew.” Hard shivers racked him then, and he couldn’t hold back the grunt of pain.

Jake bent close to his face—to say a fond farewell—Poncho thought, so when he heard, “Why don’t we just walk down and save on gas?” he was a little perplexed.

“Huh?”

“I can set your shoulder back in place here, then when we get to the cabin I can patch up the scratches.”

Then Ashley and Poncho both said, “Huh?”

Jake smiled. A big ear to ear smile and scooped up a handful of snow from under Poncho. He brought it up to show them. It was brown. It also smelled suspiciously like the hot chocolate Poncho had filled his camelback with. “That pop you heard, buddy, was the bladder on your camelback giving way. She had you by it, not your neck.” With relieved affection Jake threw the snow away and slipped his arm under to help Poncho sit. “Now, quit scaring my girlfriend and get up.”

Chapter Thirteen

The camelback was toast. It was an industrial-strength plastic bladder surrounded by insulation to keep the temperature of whatever fluid was in it consistent. It fit inside a snug backpack that rode high on the shoulders and was designed to fit close to the spine, to help either cool or warm the wearer. This particular model was made of neoprene, the same super-strong synthetic material that motorcycle gear was made of, and the cougar’s teeth had sunk through it with no more trouble than if it’d been made of latex.

“Well,” Ashley said, looking at the ruined pack spread out on her table, “it saved your life. So, even if it is ruined, I’d say it was worth it.”

“Yeah, well…” Poncho seemed to be having a hard time accepting the destruction of his pack. Ashley thought it had more to do with his embarrassment over the fact that he thought he was dying than the ruined equipment, but she kept that thought to herself.

“Thing cost me a lotta money. Damn cat,” Poncho mumbled, grabbed the remnants and tossed them in the trash with a grunt.

“Ahh, Poncho.” She wanted to say something sweet or encouraging, but instead trailed off when Jake shook his head at her and winked.

“So, buddy,” Jake spoke up. “I think you should save that and frame it. It’ll make a helluva conversation piece.” He plucked it out of the trash and held it up. “You could call it The Thwarted Good-bye.”

He lunged back when Poncho tried to grab it and held it out of reach. “Or, how about something with a double meaning, like Dead of Winter?” Poncho seemed to have a hard time keeping a straight face. Ashley had no luck at all and started laughing outright.

Relief was rich and heavy in the air, making the three of them as giddy as drunks. It had been too close. They had come too close to losing him. The euphoric rush at finding themselves all still alive was buzzing through their systems like crack. Poncho’s mortification just didn’t stand a chance against it.

“Ooh, I know,” Ashley joined in and waved her hands for the toss. She caught the mangled pack just as Poncho jumped in front of her, but since his arms were bandaged and sore she got away easily. “Let’s call it The Cougar-pellent-cocoa-pack.” They continued tossing the pack between them while Poncho laughed and cursed. The dogs even got in on the action, barking and dodging in between their legs as they ran around the house like kids in a schoolyard. All in all it was the most fun Ashley could remember having in a very long time.

That night Ashley was quiet when she crawled between the sheets. Jake was stoking the fire in the fireplace in their room. She watched as the light in front of him flared a deep orange glow. It highlighted his form and made him look like the warrior brave of her fantasies. He knelt in front of it on one knee, his hair in that leather tie he always wore and raining straight as an arrow down the middle of his strong bare back. His slender hips and muscled legs were encased in flannel sleep pants that looked tailor-made for him. As he used one log to poke the fire around, the muscles in that arm rippled and flexed. It made everything below Ashley’s belly button warm and tingle.

He was smart. Professor smart. Well, to be technical he was doctor smart and that was even better. He was endlessly kind, funny and he was an animal activist whose entire career was focused on saving wildlife. Ashley teetered on the edge of admitting that to herself when Apollo ambled up to him. The dog gave him an affectionate head butt to the shoulder. Jake looked at him and ruffled his scruff as he asked, “And how was your day, Apollo? Huh? You tired of being cooped up and missing all the action?” Then he looked over to Ashley and smiled at her. The fire behind him, her dog in his arms—Ashley didn’t just fall off that edge. She leaped.

Her expression must have shown what she was feeling because the smile warmed to something altogether different on Jake’s face. He gave a last pat to Apollo then stood and walked to the bed. As soon as he got to the side, before he could sit down, Ashley rose to her knees and reached a hand out to his waist. Her fingers lightly raked over the ridges of muscle there and then teased under elastic. She pressed a gentle kiss on one small dark nipple and smiled when his breath hitched. She bestowed the same to the other nipple and his breath hitched again. She looked up at him without taking her mouth off his skin, so the breath of her words could tease as much as the meaning of them.

“Tell me something, Doctor,” she started, kissing and nipping across his chest. “In your scientific opinion. How long—” she let her teeth scrape just a little harder, “—does it take to fall in love?” Her tongue licked in a delicate swirl while her eyes never broke contact with his, and she saw the flare of reaction on his face. “Scientifically speaking, do you think three months of very little contact followed by six weeks of very intense close contact is enough?”

She could have melted on the spot at the look on his face when he replied, “Well. Scientifically speaking. I believe there was a study done in the high ridges of the Cascade Mountains where a man actually fell in love in under one hour.” She smiled, bright and full, her whole being lighting up from within. “In fact, it could be argued that from the moment he set eyes on the green-eyed blonde, he fell.” His hands cupped her face, and he bent to bring his lips to hers. “Even when she was holding him at gunpoint he was helpless to resist.”

The kiss they shared was full of wonder and joy. Ashley ran her hands over his back and around his sides, nails digging just a little, just enough that his breathing picked up speed.

She slipped the flannel from his hips then cupped his already firm flesh. It was hard as steel and soft as velvet, and it was all for her. He hummed into her mouth when she cupped the heavy sac beneath and gently kneaded while her other hand gripped tight and strong on the base of him. She pulled from his kiss, his hands tangled in her hair, and lowered to him. His eyes flared when she slipped out her tongue to lap at the head, and his fingers clenched reflexively. She opened her lips and took him in. His groan was music to her ears, an erotic melody that guided her rhythm. She swirled her tongue, sucked hard and never let her hands or mouth stop moving. Before long his thighs were quivering and the gentle hands that before had merely cradled her head as she moved on him were now clenched into fists, tugging on her scalp with a delicious bite of pain that only thrilled her more.

She still had one hand cupped on his sac, gently molding, when she felt his balls draw up tight. She knew he was close, and she knew just what she wanted to do to send him over that edge. She smoothed her fingers up, to play in the moisture that was gathered at the base of his shaft, made sure her fingers were coated and slick. Then smoothed her hand back down, pressing in firm strokes over the patch of skin just beneath his scrotum. Next, she circled his rim, his moan turned to a full-out groan when she dipped her middle finger past that tight ring of muscles and into him.

He didn’t stand a chance. His entire body locked, head back and face carved in a grimace of passion as her mouth was flooded with burst after burst of his release. She let it slide and drip down his shaft as she continued to stroke and bob. Her finger continued to pump in time and his groan turned to guttural shouting as she kept him on that edge and dragged his orgasm out as long as she could.

Eventually, he became too sensitive and she eased back. She was a mess. They both were so she reached for the bedside table and the hand towel that was lying there. She first wiped her face and then before she could start on him, he pounced.

She gasped in shock, giggling as he fumbled to get under her clothes and rained kisses over her face and neck. Before long, she was as naked as he was and it was her turn to moan. She sighed as he entered her, said, “My, my, Doctor, quite a recovery time you’ve got there,” and then sighed again as he started a slow sweet dance over and into her. He loved her softly, gently, with words too tender to speak above a whisper and touches that gave new meaning to the word caress. As the peak rolled over her like an ocean wave, she went under with his name on her lips.

Chapter Fourteen