Trout Recipe by Ellen Carey

Author:Ellen Carey [Carey, Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Lesbian, Romance, General, Social Science, Humorous, Gay Studies
ISBN: 9781450067256
Google: AgOKzyVs9ikC
Amazon: 1450067263
Publisher: Xlibris Corporation
Published: 2010-06-16T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

“If I told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, Gwen! You can’t mess with a mother bear, especially a grizzly! It doesn’t matter how old her cubs are either! Now crawl out of that burrow right this second! How the hell did you get yourself into such a small hole anyway?” Claire was livid. She had been out searching with every single one of my ranch hands, including both cooks, Bo and Jake’s grandson, Jake Jr. She was frantic. She had been waiting thirty minutes for me after I had told her I’d go fetch a fresh bucket of milk. Claire was in the process of cooking up some shortbread. Fresh strawberries were waiting in the wings as topping. She assumed I was struggling with the cow, and she tried to be patient. When her patience ran out, she started looking for me in the barn, paddock, corral, tack room, and front pasture. She became extremely alarmed when she noticed an overturned bucket of spilled milk in Jezebel’s stall and claw marks on the locked feed bin outside the tack room.

I crawled out of my trusty hole looking around nervously. Claire poked and prodded me until she was satisfied I was not seriously injured. I only had a few cuts and bruises, although she was not fond of the cut on my upper lip. When I was trying to avoid the bear, I made a mad dash for a burrow under a rotted Juniper Tree and, in doing so, I may have avoided the bear, but I smacked my mouth hard on a jagged root that was sticking out of the ground. The hole was long and narrow and the grizzly had no chance of reaching me or digging her way to me because of all the protruding roots. Claire grabbed me roughly and pulled me in the direction of the main ranch house. “You’re coming with me, so I can clean you up and sterilize your lip!” I knew exactly what that meant. Some form of stinging alcohol was going to be applied to my wound along with some type of abrasive contact. No thank you, I thought. I pulled away from Claire complaining, “I’m fine, Claire. You don’t need to worry about the little scratch on my lip. It’s fine! I need to finish my chores and get you a bucket of fresh milk. Now leave me be!”

Claire released me, took one step back, and lashed out like a bobcat. “Do you really think I’m going to let you get away without cleaning that cut on your lip? Do you not understand that if you don’t let me clean that cut, it will more than likely get infected?” And if it gets infected, then you’re off to the docs for a painful lancing! And if it gets lanced, it will be so sore you won’t be able to kiss me for at least a week or two!” God, I loved to quarrel with Claire. I touched my lip and groaned.

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