Mountain Fire (6 page)

As they waited for the cheque, June reached across and ran a finger over Alex’s knuckles as his hand rested darkly against the brilliant white linen. He met her eyes and she was dazzled by a sudden surge of attraction.

She made sure her voice was cool and friendly. “Thanks for a lovely meal.”

“Thanks for sharing it with me.”

He drove her home in his drab olive green Jeep. Its black hard top, sturdy frame and four wheel drive suited his personality perfectly—dependable, but ruggedly sexy.

He pulled up to the curb in front of her house. A streetlight behind him lit his profile sharply, accenting the strong lines of his face.

She wondered, ill at ease, what the next step should be. “Thanks again for dinner.”

“No problem.”

He reached across and sleeked a finger down her bare arm, grasping her hand where it lay loosely in her lap. He raised it to his mouth, brushing his lips over her palm, his eyes never leaving her face. “Good night, June.”

She heard herself say, “Do you want to come in? I mean, for coffee, or another drink, or something.”

His scrutiny was a physical thing, weighting down her limbs, pounding through her blood. “Oh, I’d like to come in for...something,” he said, a shameless glimmer in his eye. “But not tonight, I think.”

Disappointed, but also a teensy bit relieved, she sighed. “That’s probably best.”

She tugged her hand from his grip and slid out of the Jeep with her best attempt at gracefulness. He drove off, a small smile on his lips.

She backed cautiously away from the curb, as if she had been standing on the high diving board, and had decided to climb off the ladder at the last second.

Chapter Five

June had no chance to see Alex during the next few days. Although her heaviest workload of classes was done for the year, she was picking up credits by taking part in a summer session program that ran for five days straight. She spent a lot of the time at various field locations, studying the practices of forest management in regards to water resources. When all necessary reading and homework assignments were added to the hours on-site, she had very little free time. But five concentrated days gained her the same number of credits as a semester long lecture course, with the added bonus of being able to spend most of it outdoors.

The sunny weather she’d enjoyed while on Longworth Mountain held through the week, but Saturday night thunderheads rolled in, bringing high winds and slashing rain. By Sunday morning the worst of it had blown over. She stood sipping her coffee and peering at her backyard through a water pebbled window. Yesterday a few stubborn blossoms still clung to the old apple tree in the corner. Today the pink and white petals were scattered across the lawn.

The phone rang and she answered it with a cheerful hello.

“Hey,” Alex said. “How’d your course go?”

“Excellent.” She savoured the warmth curling low inside her at the sound of his voice. They’d managed to exchange a few brief text messages since the evening they’d spent together, and she was mildly surprised at how much she’d missed speaking with him. “How was your week?”

“Uneventful until late yesterday. I was on call, and we got a tip. Another grizzly.”

“Where?”

“McGregor area. A tree planting crew found it. I’m heading out right away. Want to come along?”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m taking the ’copter. I can pick you up on my way to the airport.”

“I’ll be ready.”

She packed her small rucksack with bottled water, granola bars, extra socks, and a polar fleece. Then she dressed in heavy cotton pants and short sleeved T-shirt under a light wind breaker. Pulling on thick socks, she thrust her feet into sturdy hiking boots. She was waiting on the sidewalk when Alex drove up. He unlocked the door, and she hopped in.

He was wearing his uniform, and looked sexily official, especially with the aviator glasses hiding his eyes. “So, where exactly are we going?” she asked.

“The supervisor of a tree planting crew gave me the coordinates from his GPS. This carcass was found about three miles from the other, as the crow flies.” He changed lanes to pass a lumbering motor-home with Texas plates. They crossed the Yellowhead Bridge over the Fraser River.

“Could it be the same poacher?”

“It’s certainly possible.”

When they arrived at the airport, Alex parked next to a yellow, metal sided building. He unlocked the padlock securing a gate in the chain-link fence, and they carried their bags to the helicopter sitting on the tarmac.

“You can stow your stuff in here.” He opened a small panel and moved aside to let her slide her pack in. “You can get in the other side while I do my checks.”

The dash was a maze of instruments, some of which seemed fairly straightforward, others whose function she couldn’t even guess at. A headset hung on a hook by her head. She put it on and adjusted the fit. Alex swung into the pilot’s seat, put on his headset, flicked switches, and twiddled knobs. The rotors started to spin, gradually picking up speed. Vibrations hummed through the hull.

After receiving permission from the tower, Alex began manipulating the two hand levers. The helicopter broke away from the ground with a small jerk. It was an odd feeling. Instead of the pressure she’d experienced in an airplane, which pushed passengers back into the seat, the sudden vertical lift gave the odd sensation of compressing her spine. She forced herself to sit up straighter.

The nose dipped toward the ground and they floated forward. Through the plexiglass bottom of the bubble the pavement slipped away underneath her feet. They rose higher in the air, leaving the cluster of buildings behind, and negotiated a range of small hills studded with microwave and cellular towers.

Alex controlled the craft using both hands and feet, his movements deft and sure. Once firmly on course, he looked over.

“What do you think?” His voice came directly into her ears through the headphones, the motion of his lips strangely disorienting.

She shouted back. “It’s fantastic!”

“We should be there in twenty minutes or so.” He went back to monitoring the various gauges, and June soon became engrossed with the view out the window. She’d only ever flown in large commercial jets before, and couldn’t believe how tremendous the range of sight was without a wing in the way. She spied a moose in an old clear-cut, and watched its long-legged, high-stepping stride with amusement.

They flew into a wide valley, and she spotted a haphazard collection of canvas coloured rectangles. As they closed in, the shapes sorted themselves out into eight to ten large tents, surrounding an even bigger structure with a green striped roof, reminding her of an old-fashioned circus big-top. A figure walked out from underneath it and waited in the grassy area outside the grouping of tents.

Her stomach hovered in her abdomen as the altimeter dropped. Alex, operating the hand levers expertly, lowered the craft into the alpine meadow and shut off the engine. The rotors whined down, and stillness settled over them. A faint buzzing filled her ears.

A tall, thin man wearing a grungy graphic T-shirt, khaki shorts sprouting a multitude of pockets, and a brightly striped toque, waved at them as they stepped out.

“Hello.” He extended a hand to Alex. “I’m Ryan Persson. You must be the Wildlife guy.”

“And you must be the Camp Manager.” Alex introduced himself and June.

Lank, dark blond hair streamed past Ryan’s shoulders and his finger nails were chipped and lined with dirt. But his eyes were bright with intelligence under the vibrant cap, and his teeth gleamed whitely in the light stubble on his chin.

“I suppose you’d like to get right out there.”

Alex nodded. “Yes. How far do we need to hike?”

Ryan cocked a thumb toward the camp. “I’ve got a couple of four-wheelers we can use. Beats walking any day.”

Soon Alex and June were buckling on borrowed helmets and flipping a coin to see who got to drive the ATV. As June plopped triumphantly into the driver’s position, Alex strapped their packs to the carrying grid and mounted behind. Ryan negotiated circumspectly through the camp on his own machine, then picked up speed on a barely visible dirt track.

Despite the serious reason for their journey, June enjoyed the adventure. The ATV wasn’t a smooth ride, but it manoeuvred the ruts and rocks with ease. She gave the throttle a burst, and Alex’s hold on her waist tightened. A growl of protest rumbled in his chest, pressed against her back. She laughed wickedly and gunned it again.

On the mountainside to her left a logging road zigzagged up the steep incline. This area had been recently harvested for timber, and now the tree planting crew was restocking the forest with native conifers. June had spent a couple of summers as a planter, and had nothing but respect for the men and women who did the work, which required great physical stamina as well as attention to detail.

They came upon one of the planters’ temporary bases. A couple of sturdy four by four pickups and a large passenger van were parked at the bottom of a long slope. Dotted about the incline were perhaps twenty men and women. Each carried a shovel with a long, narrow blade, and slung over their shoulders were large canvas bags, rather like the kind old-time paperboys used to carry. The tips of tiny coniferous seedlings poked out of each sack. As the ATVs slowed to go past the vehicles, June had a chance to watch one woman move fluidly through the motions—place shovel, step on blade to sink it into the earth, bend to insert seedling, straighten, press with boot heel to ensure correct planting. The best planters did hundreds of trees in a day.

Once past the workers, they picked up speed, and it wasn’t long before Ryan came to a stop near a still, black form. They swung off the ATVs and stood over the desecrated body.

****

Alex sat back on his heels and wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“Well,” he said, “it’s like the other.”

“Can you tell if it’s the same poacher?” June hunkered down beside him. As disturbing as the sight and smell was, it was nowhere near as bad as the other carcass they’d found in the crevasse.

“There are definite similarities, but there’s no way to say for sure.” Alex gestured at the remains. “Head, paws, gallbladder. I tell you, from their point of view, these guys aren’t wasting a thing. They’re taking everything they’ll get paid for.”

“The same poacher?” Ryan Persson had been standing out of the way while Alex inspected the body. Now he moved closer. “You mean you’ve found other bears?”

Alex told him briefly about the previous discovery. “The thing is, for every body we find, there could be many others out there we know nothing about. I went through our files and found a couple more illegal kills in this area last fall. But just because we’ve learned of four in the last few months doesn’t mean it’s the same poacher. This area is full of blacks and grizzlies and will attract more hunters willing to break the rules. Odds are there’d be more to find.”

He returned to his work, snapping photos and jotting down notes. June let the mountain stillness wash over her. A raven’s call echoed faintly off the far wall of the valley.

He straightened up from the body, snapping off his latex gloves. “This one’s a female.” Bitterness tinged his voice. “I wonder what...”

“Quiet,” June commanded.

Both men looked at her in surprise.

“Listen,” she said.

“What is it?”

She shushed Ryan with an abrupt motion of her hand.

“There,” she said. “Did you hear that?”

Alex tilted his head. “Over there.”

They turned toward a small thicket a few metres away. It was a stand of young birch, no more than ten feet tall, at whose feet a number of shrubs huddled. Something hidden in the shadows caused the brush to rustle and sway. June heard again the fretful sound that had first caught her ear.

“What do we do now?”

Alex turned to Ryan. “I need a length of rope, about three metres long. And a blanket or piece of tarp, something like that.”

“I’ll check in the four-wheeler.” Ryan walked to his ATV and lifted the lid of the plastic case strapped on the back. He came back with a long piece of yellow nylon rope and a ratty old plaid blanket.

June didn’t take her eyes off the subtle movements. Ryan handed the rope to Alex, who wound it in generous loops and hooked it on his elbow. He threw the blanket over his shoulder.

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’m going to make a wide circle far around the bush. When I close in behind, I want you both to rush up. We’ll roust him out.”

They waited, motionless, as Alex strolled casually away. He took up position, unfolded the blanket and held it in front of him, rather like a matador’s cape.

Ryan watched June. She nodded, and the quiet of the wilderness shattered with their screams and yells. They ran wildly toward the bushes.

The bear cub’s nerve held until they were practically on top of it. Then it shot out the far side, a black ball of fur, squealing and bawling, staring white-eyed over its shoulder. Alex made a diving tackle, and miraculously managed to wrap the cub in the blanket on the first try. Ryan and June ran up and helped him hold the wriggling, squiggling bundle. Piteous whimpers and squeals rent the air.

“Now what?” June asked breathlessly. Despite the cub’s small size, it put up a valiant effort to get free, sharp little claws scrabbling at her through the blanket.

“Hold him.” Alex pulled the rope off his arm. “I’ll get him secured.”

After more hectic minutes, they had the cub safely tied up inside the blanket. Alex left its head free, but dropped a noose over its muzzle to stop it biting, causing the cub to growl and hiss in frustration. June had added another scrape to her healing collection, Ryan’s toque had come off in the battle, and Alex’s neatly pressed uniform was scuffed and bedraggled. They paused for a breather.