Wild At Heart (Wild 2)

I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest as I survey the trees, searching for whatever just moved within them. It’s the second time in as many minutes that I caught motion from the corner of my eye. The first time, I dismissed it as my unease playing with my imagination. But when it happened again …

There’s something out there, in broad daylight, shifting among the shadows, and every hair along the back of my neck is standing on end.

Fumbling with the can of bear spray attached to the holster, I pull it out with shaky hands and grip it tightly. I march along the driveway toward home, the bells jingling with each step, blood pulsing in my ears, my head on a swivel as my eyes dart this way and that. I struggle not to run, in case whatever it is would prefer to give chase.

I’m so tense that when the satellite phone rings in my coat pocket, I yelp with surprise. “Jonah!” I yell into the phone.

“Hey. Landed in Unalakleet. What are you up to?” His voice is a bit distant and distorted. And I don’t know if I’ve ever been so happy to hear it.

“I think I’m being followed,” I say loudly, hoping the sound of my voice scares whatever it is away.

“What?” I can picture him, his brow furrowed, his hand on his hip.

“There’s something in the trees. I went for a run and …” I give him the thirty-second explanation, my words rushed as I keep walking toward the house.

“Okay. Relax, Calla.”

“I’m trying to!” But I’m out here in the middle of nowhere, alone, with any number of wild animals surrounding me.

“Where are you now?”

“Halfway between the hangar and the house.” I can make out the green of our roof up ahead. Jonah drove the truck down to the planes this morning. I wish I’d jumped in and driven it back.

“Okay, you’re not that far. Keep walking. I’ll stay on with you until you get home.”

“Thank you.” While he can’t reach through the phone to protect me, talking to him has a calming effect.

“It’s gotta be that fox. It must have a den around us.”

“No. The fur wasn’t orange. It was brown or gray, something like that.” A fleeting blur of dull color. “And big.”

“Probably the moose, then.”

“Oh, yeah. Great. Did you know mama moose like to trample things?”

“Tell me about your run. Where’d you go?” he asks, steering me clear of that thought. It’s a distraction tactic but I gladly accept it.

Jonah listens as I walk and talk, filling him in on the resort down the road, Toby and his father Teddy, my voice shaky as I keep a steady pace. By the time I reach the door to our basement walk-out, my fear has abated some. “Okay, I’m home.”

“You good?”

“Yeah.” And feeling slightly embarrassed, to be so frightened by something I didn’t actually see. “I know there was something out there, Jonah.”

“Maybe it was a yeti.”

“Not funny.”

“Whatever it was, it’s probably already a mile away.”

“I hope so.”

His heavy sigh carries through the phone. “But you’ve gotta get used to this, Calla. You’re living in rural Alaska. You’re gonna see animals, especially if you’re out running. But as long as you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you.”

“I know. I just … I know.” Living at my father’s wasn’t anything like this. The threat of dangerous animals roaming around his house was low. You had to go up the river to find black bear and moose.

“’Kay. Gotta go. See ya in a few hours.”

I slide the satellite phone into my coat pocket, looking forward to getting inside. I’ve pushed the key in the lock when I catch the sound of crunching snow behind me. The hairs stand on the back of my neck as I whip around, a scream curdling in my throat.