The Spirit Bear Secret by Gayle Siebert

Author:Gayle Siebert [Siebert, Gayle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-14T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty-four

THE HORSES MOVE along single file through the snow. There must be a path through the trees, but in the dark it’s not obvious, at least not to Ivar. The horse’s huge feet send up showers of powder with every step and clouds of its breath billow in the cold to mingle with his own. His eyelashes and moustaches are getting coated with frost. He rubs his glove over his face to clear it. “Hey!” he yells, “hold up.”

Mitch, on the lead horse, reins in and turns the horse to face the lagging Ivar. “What the fuck, Ivar,” he hisses, “you gotta yell? Want everyone to know we’re comin’?”

“Everyone?” Ivar’s horse comes to stand next to its teammate. “Who’s everyone? We’re out in the middle of the fuckin’ bush in the middle of the fuckin’ night. No one in their right fuckin’ mind is up at this hour, let alone out here.”

Mitch mumbles something Ivar can’t make out.

“What?”

Mitch’s head snaps around and he hisses, “what about hunters?”

“Hunters? What? Are we safe out here?”

When Mitch answers with a harumpf, Ivar continues, “this was only supposed to take 15 minutes. How fuckin’ much longer? You know I’ve never been on a horse before. Couldn’t you at least give me the one with the saddle? I just about fuckin’ slid off going up that rise back there. How about we trade?”

“Chopper don’t slide off and he don’t even have hands,” Mitch growls. He spits his snoose into the snow, kicks his horse and heads off.

Ivar gives Mitch’s retreating back the middle finger salute and thinks about turning back, but his horse starts after the other one at a brisk trot. He winds both hands in its thick mane and concentrates on staying on.

He wonders when the weird little guy got such a big opinion of himself. He wouldn’t have given him a second look even though they were cell mates. But when he started talking about his cabin and that it was where Ivar planned to go when he got out, Ivar took an interest.

With his shaved head, he didn’t look like a wild man then. Skinhead wannabe! The skinheads let him hang with them as long as he did their bidding, which included handing over his commissary chits and bending over in the shower on demand. Stupid bastard didn’t even realize they were laughing at him. Everyone was. Even the screws. Now just four years on, he’s a skinhead no more. Instead, he’s a hairy mountain man. Aggressive, an animal, as if that stinking bear robe is somehow claiming him.

Ivar admits he’s mildly curious about the woman, though. One trip to witness her crazy ritual might be worth it. If she really is putting on a show, maybe there’s a way to get with her and have some fun for a while. But no one in their right mind would take a woman to that stinking cabin. Think any woman would agree to sleep on the floor, with the dog licking his

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