His Colt Dragoon was in his hand a second later. He aimed for a spot a foot in front of the bear and pulled the trigger, dirt flying in front of the bear as the blast echoed around the clearing. A roar was the bear’s only response before it did an about-face and bounded off into the tree line.
A blink of an eye later, Owen was swinging from George and breaking into a run, reaching Camilla as she pushed herself to her feet. She took one look at him, then took him by complete surprise when she launched herself straight into his arms.
Twenty-Four
The moment Owen felt Camilla trembling, he pulled her closer, holding her until she drew in a shaky breath and stepped away, sending him a wobbly smile.
“Forgive me, Owen,” she began. “I certainly wasn’t intending on throwing myself at you, but I feel those tender feminine sensibilities you’ve remarked on a time or two have definitely decided to make an appearance.”
He smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Since I know better than to remark on feminine sensibilities these days, allow me to simply say that I bet male sensibilities would’ve come out as well if a man had just been chased by a bear.”
“Iwas chasingituntil it cornered Gladys, and all the arm flapping you told me to use wasn’t working, which is why I had to resort to shooting at the tree in the hopes that would scare Teddy, which didn’t work, and just as an aside, Teddy’s not nearly as friendly as you led me to believe.”
He winced. “That, ah, wasn’t Teddy.”
“What?”
“I find I must now beg your pardon, Camilla, because I should have warned you that Teddy’s not the only bear around theseparts. There are a lot of mama bears out there right now with cubs. You and Gladys, I’m sorry to say, just tangled with an angry mama bear.”
Camilla turned her attention to where Gladys was running into the trees with Cleo and Calamity, El Cid slinking through the tall grass behind them. “It doesn’t seem as if Gladys is experiencing any ill effects from her tangle.”
“It doesn’t, and she’s a smart dog, so I don’t imagine she’ll be trying to befriend additional bears, because I’m sure that’s what she was trying to do at first. However, it seems she’s heading back to the cabin, so we should probably follow her, just to make sure she doesn’t find more trouble on her way down the hill.”
After sending Owen a smile, one that left him losing his train of thought for a second, Camilla walked over and retrieved the rifle that had flown out of her hand after she’d fired it, releasing a bit of a huff when Owen held out his hand.
“I’m perfectly capable of carrying this down the hill,” she said.
“I’m sure you are, but given how you said your tender feminine sensibilities are currently in play, I think it’s best if I carry the rifle for you.”
“You said you weren’t going to mention anything about feminine sensibilities,” she grumbled, handing the rifle to him.
“Which means I’ll need to revisit that chapter in the latest etiquette book you told me to read—the one centering around knowing when a lady wants to address a subject with you, and when she doesn’t.”
“There’s nothing in your latest etiquette book about that.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll find me one that covers that topic,” he countered before they began walking across the clearing.
After sending a whistle to George, who immediately headed Owen’s way, he waited for Camilla to scoop El Cid out of some tall grass, the meow of protest she immediately garnered suggesting El Cid had been about to pounce on a field mouse and was none too happy to have been interrupted from his pursuit.
Before Owen could do more than give El Cid a scratch under the chin, earning a purr, Gladys gamboled back into view, Cleo and Calamity flanking her. The poodle immediately circled Camilla, gave her a nudge with her nose, then dashed off again, evidently having circled back just to make sure Camilla was okay.
“For a pedigreed dog, Gladys is unusually affectionate. Most of the purebreds I’ve encountered are more on the distant side,” he said.
“She wasn’t affectionate with me until we came here,” Camilla countered. “In fact, she spent most of her time sleeping and refused to walk with me in Central Park. She’d simply sit down on our way there and refuse to budge until I told her we were going home, and even then seemed less than interested in ever moving faster than an amble.”
As Gladys bounded around some trees, Owen smiled. “She’s evidently turned over a new and rather rambunctious leaf.”
“Beulah thinks that’s because Gladys has finally found her true place in the world, meaning West Virginia.” Camilla dusted some leaves from the front of the apron she was wearing. “She also believes that even though my poodle has a fancy pedigree, Gladys was never meant to be a pampered pooch, but more along the lines of a mongrel that loves nothing more than rolling in the mud with Esmerelda and letting her fur down as she frolics around with Cleo and Calamity.”
“Meemaw’s usually right about these matters.”
Camilla abandoned her dusting. “She thinks I’m like Gladys.”
“She believes you’d enjoy rolling in the mud with Esmeralda?”
“Probably not that,” Camilla returned, her eyes beginning to twinkle. “Although now that I think about it, since I’ve become acquainted with you,covered in mudhas literally taken on an entirely new meaning for me.”
“You do seem to be covered in it quite often, but if not the mud, what do you think Meemaw means about you being like Gladys?”