17. Poke the Bear

Chapter 17

Poke the Bear

O akleigh had already planned everything she wanted to say to her mother, intending to unload every ounce of her frustration. To her relief, Maeve climbed into the Jeep beside her before Harper could take her seat, no doubt an intentional move to keep the peace. Harper took her place in the back, where she folded her arms and scowled, looking away out the window.

Snowflakes softly pattered the windshield as they pulled up to the ranch house. The wheels of the Jeep had hardly come to a complete stop before Harper stepped out and headed straight for the front door. Her arms were folded close to her chest, clearly fighting for her life in the cold weather.

Oakleigh bounded up the porch steps. Hooking her arm through Maeve’s, she pulled her to a stop in the entryway.

“She’s gone, right?” Oakleigh pleaded, lowering her voice to a desperate whisper. “Tell me she’s leaving today.”

Maeve put her hands on her hips and glanced down at her feet like she was preparing to break some terrible news. “I talked to her this afternoon, and —” she paused momentarily as though collecting the required confidence.

“She’s staying.”

“You can’t be serious, Maeve,” Oakleigh snapped, her volume rising. Clenching her fists tightly, she felt the urge to pound it into the nearest wall.

“Oakleigh, lower your voice — please.” Maeve calmly requested, putting her hands up as though she were creating a barrier between Oakleigh and her mother.

Harper casually looked up from the sofa where she was scrolling her phone. “You know I can hear you, Oakleigh,” she commented, glancing over her screen.

“Good!” Oakleigh shouted, seeing red as she dared to push past Maeve. “Then I’ve got a few more things to say.”

“Oakleigh, stop,” Maeve implored, reaching for Oakleigh’s arm in a last-ditch effort to bring peace to the increasingly volatile situation.

It was too late.

Oakleigh pulled herself free.

Storming into the living room, she towered over her mother, ready to unleash a lifetime of unresolved resentment.

“Don’t you ever talk to my boyfriend again,” Oakleigh threatened. “Or me, for that matter — I’m done with you, do you hear me?”

“Really, Oakleigh,” Harper deflected with false tranquility. “For the life of me, I don’t know why you’ re so upset.”

“Oh, you’re about to hear why,” Oakleigh exclaimed, knowing she was simply feeding into her mother’s calculated manipulation. Before she could utter another word, the front door opened and slammed shut, shuddering the walls of the living room.

Sawyer swept in, his cheeks red from the biting cold. He was out of breath and visibly flustered.

“Mom, I’ve been calling you,” he fumed.

“I’m sorry, Sawyer, I’ve been dealing with this!” Maeve’s exasperation had reached its peak as she motioned to the battle unfolding in the living room.

“First Oakleigh’s nonsense and now her, ”he barked through clenched teeth. “We have serious problems here, and you’re letting these idiots distract you.”

Maeve’s eyes narrowed.

“Sawyer.”

It was all she needed to say.

“I need your help, Mom,” he said, correcting his tone.

Maeve pulled on her aviator sunglasses and tucked her beanie cap over her ears.

“Oakleigh, let’s go.”

She took a breath and slowly forced the air through her lips, regaining control of her emotions. Following Maeve outside, Oakleigh cringed as the stinging cold air hit her once again.

Maeve saddled up the horses while Sawyer tossed Oakleigh a set of keys.

“You’re on the sled,” he ordered. “And take it slow for once. ”

She would have fired back a snarky comment, but she could sense that Maeve was at her limit. Knowing that she was sensitive to harsh yelling in the house, Oakleigh was already regretting the escalation with her mother.

Discovering the sled she would be towing was loaded with tools, wire, and posts, she now understood why Sawyer had been so stern. Losing control and veering into a tree would definitely not be a cute way to go.

She straddled the snowmobile and hit the gas, following the two on horseback at a distance until they reached the far end of the East Pasture.

Oakleigh pulled the sled up close, noticing immediately that the fresh, pure white snow was stained crimson red. Steeling her nerves, she joined their side, finally laying eyes on the clawed remains of one of their prized cattle.

“It’s not one of the Slims —” Oakleigh stammered, barely getting the words out. She gulped hard, resisting the urge to add the contents of her stomach to the horrible mess.

“No,” Maeve confirmed. “Thank the Lord.” She stood to her feet, swiping the snow off her pants with her gloved hand. “But we’ll need to bring in the herd.”

“Agreed,” Sawyer said, mounting his horse. “Leave the supplies, Oakleigh. I’ll get the boys to take care of the fence and clean up.” He tugged on the reins, guiding the horse down the fence line.

The mare’s ears flattened, whipping her head toward a dense cluster of trees .

“What is it, girl,” Sawyer asked, cutting his words short as a low growl came through the brush.

The frightened horse began to sidestep, buck, and rear.

“Woah girl, woah,” he said, gripping the reins, struggling to maintain control. Even Sawyer’s prowess in bronc riding couldn’t have kept him in the saddle as the horse bucked him high in the air.

Sawyer hit the ground hard.

Stunned by the fall, he hadn’t realized his boot had caught in the stirrup. The panicked mare charged down the fence line in a flash, yanking the cowboy behind her. The soft, fresh powder did little to cushion the jagged rocks or sharp brush as he was whipped across uneven ground.

Even amid the chaos, Sawyer’s expertise was unmatched. He finally shimmied his boot free and slid to a stop facedown in the snow.

It all happened in a blink.

Arriving at Sawyer’s side, Maeve slid to her knees in the slick, icy slush.

He was out cold.

“What do we do?” Oakleigh choked out, struggling to keep pace. She gasped to fill her lungs with the sharp, frigid air.

“Get the radio, and call for Crew,” Maeve ordered. “Dump everything off the sled and bring it over.”

“You want Crew to meet us here?” Oakleigh stuttered, her mind going blank .

“That bear is going to circle back,” Maeve shook her head. “We have to get out of here.”

Oakleigh felt cemented to the ground, the familiar scene bringing back the haunting images of Crew’s horrific accident with Big Slim.

“Quick now, Oakleigh,” Maeve commanded. “Move!”

Her loud voice snapped Oakleigh to attention. She scrambled to her feet, her boots crunching through the snow as she ran back for the sled. The horses were nowhere in sight, undoubtedly galloping at full speed back to the safety of the barn.

Following Maeve’s strict orders, Oakleigh unzipped her pack and located the radio. She squeezed the button, pulling the walkie to her lips.

“Crew, we need you,” she exclaimed, trying to keep her voice steady. She impatiently waited for a response through the hiss of the radio static.

“Crew, respond, please!”

There came a sharp crackle.

“Well, give me a chance, love,” Crew finally replied. “Everything okay?”

“We’re in the East Pasture, and Sawyer’s down,” she informed him, doing her best to stick to the facts and keep her anxiety from exaggerating the details.

“Are you okay?” he asked quickly. “Maeve?”

“We’re good,” she informed. “Call the doc.”

“Roger that. ”

Going to the sled, she gripped the heavy spool of wire and heaved it into the snow. She shoved off the fenceposts and what remained of the tools until there was a clear space for Sawyer to lay. Throwing her leg over the snowmobile, she revved the engine and brought it as closely as she could through the dense trees.

In the time that it took for Oakleigh to return, Maeve had somehow successfully rolled Sawyer onto his back. She was gently patting his bearded face, doing everything she could to rouse him.

“Come on, son,” she insisted. “It’s time for you to come to.” She looked up, connecting with Oakleigh. “We’ve got to get him out of the cold and back home.” Her tone was steady, but her eyes had an uncharacteristic dash of worry.

“I need you to be strong, Oakleigh.”

Although Oakleigh had gained some physical strength with her years of ranch work, she doubted she could lift Sawyer’s dead weight off the ground.

“Maeve, there’s no way,” Oakleigh faltered with a shake of her head.

“We don’t have a choice,” Maeve demanded, her eyebrows pulling together as her calm exterior began to crack.

Oakleigh knew better than to challenge further. She nodded, and went to Sawyer’s side.

Maeve put her arm under his shoulder, and instructed Oakleigh to do the same .

At the count of three, the young woman hoisted with all her might. Despite all the squats she had performed while hauling heavy hay bales, she was wholly unprepared to deadlift a cowboy out of the snow. She glanced at her counterpart, who was doing fractionally better.

Maeve was admittedly stronger than her, but even she was struggling to gain more than an inch.

“We’ve got this, Oakleigh,” she encouraged.

“We don’t, Maeve,” Oakleigh replied, dousing her delusion with a dose of reality.

With one last heave, Maeve’s boots slipped from under her, sending Sawyer slamming back to the ground.

“Bear,” Sawyer groaned.

Maeve exhaled in relief, choking down the emotion in her voice. “You alive, son?”

The Callaways were the only ones who could seem to find humor, even during a crisis.

“I’m alive,” he strained, clutching his ribs. “There’s a bear off in those trees,” he grunted. “The horse spooked.”

As though the bear had been summoned by Sawyer’s call, another deep growl resonated through the trees. Oakleigh’s eyes went wide, feeling vulnerable and exposed as the menacing sound vibrated through her bones.

The firearms were packed on the horse’s saddles, but they were likely miles away by now, safely tucked away in the corrals.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Maeve instructed. “Sawyer, can you get to your feet? ”

“Well, if you think I’m going to let you drop me again,” he muttered. He groaned as he rolled onto his knees, holding his arm tightly across his midsection. “My shoulder’s out.”

Maeve put her support again firmly under him, stifling a wince as she bore his weight. She patted him on the chest when he found his feet. “You ready?”

He acknowledged with a nod.

Oakleigh slipped in beside him, doing her best to assist. The deep, echoing roar of the bear came again, starkly reminding them that there was no time to waste. They stumbled through the trees to the snowmobile, and Sawyer lowered himself on the back of the sled with a painful moan.

“Hold on back there,” Oakleigh called out, throwing her leg over the seat.

“Don’t drive like a maniac, and I’ll be fine,” Sawyer fired back. His snark reassured Oakleigh ever so slightly that, despite his injuries, he would be just fine.

She revved the engine while Maeve mounted the sled behind her, keeping a close eye on Sawyer.

“Hit it,” Maeve shouted.

Oakleigh did as she was told and hit the throttle. She didn’t bother asking if she was driving too fast or taking the turns too sharply. Her goal was to get them back home as quickly as she could. The snow felt like shards of glass hitting her face as they sped across the uneven pasture. When they finally arrived at the house, she brought the sled to a quick stop.

“You all right back there?” Oakleigh flung over her shoulder .

“It’s a miracle that I’m still back here at all!” Sawyer griped, taking a labored breath.

The family doctor had already arrived, waiting patiently for them to assist Sawyer into the house and up to his room. Maeve took the lead while Crew bore the brunt of the battered cowboy’s weight. Oakleigh trailed behind, raising a hand to steady them from tumbling backward down the stairs. With their strengths combined, they managed to help Sawyer to his room. He crashed down hard on his bed with an audible, anguished cry.

They stepped quietly into the hall while the doctor went to work. Crew wrapped his arms around Oakleigh, pulling her into a much needed hug. She leaned into his sturdy frame and buried her face in his firm chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Even though her heart was still pounding, Oakleigh was determined to remain strong. “I’ve just never seen him like that.”

Maeve crossed her arms and leaned her head back on the wall. Closing her eyes, she appeared to be taking a moment to collect herself.

“Crew,” she finally spoke up. “Grab a rifle and head out to fix that fence. There’s a grizzly out there defending its kill, so be careful.” She turned her attention to Oakleigh, clearly noticing the dash of fear in her eyes at her instructions. “Oakleigh, he'll be fine."

Crew gave her a squeeze. "I'll be careful, I promise."

She took a fortifying breath, nodding in agreement. He was strong, trained to handle these types of situations, and on alert.

He'll be okay.

"We’ll head out at first light," Maeve continued, "and bring the herd closer to home."

Knowing that Maeve wouldn’t leave Sawyer’s side, Oakleigh offered the only solace she could.

“I’ll make some coffee.”

Maeve’s eyes glossed with grateful tears. She exhaled her leftover nerves as she added one more item to the list.

“Let Bethany know that Sawyer won’t be leading worship for a couple Sundays,” she shook her head. “He won’t be doing much of anything if I have any say.”

Oakleigh knew that Maeve not only had a say but the final word on the matter. She descended the stairs while dashing off a quick text to Bethany.

Less than a moment later, her phone chimed with a response.

Bethany — typing…

Is he okay?? Can I come over??

Oakleigh considered Bethany’s request. The timing wasn’t ideal, yet she had no doubt that her presence would lift the injured cowboy’s spirits. She couldn’t deny that they all could use a dose of Bethany’s positivity .

Oakleigh — typing…

Sure. You’re always welcome.

She tapped send while rounding the corner into the kitchen. Looking up from her screen, she felt a jolt of dismay as her eyes landed on her mother perched at the island, tapping her fingers impatiently on the marble countertop.

“Now that you’re back,” Harper announced. “I think it’s time for us to finish our little discussion .”