No, what could be wrong?”
“Well, you’ve never...I don’t know. Never mind. It’s okay.”
“No, go ahead. If something’s bothering you...”
“Nothing is. It’s okay. Never mind.”
Whistler never claimed to know much about women, but he knew that “never mind” never meant “never mind.” Whatever it meant, he thought he’d probably find out before this latest visit was over. She said, “Let’s go someplace quiet. Just us.”
She said that she’d like to drive up into the mountains. They’d park and they’d walk a trail that she knew that offered some fabulous views. He took that to mean no interruptions.
She hadn’t said much while on the way up. Perhaps she was saving it for one of the views. He began to worry that she’d heard something somewhere and wasn’t sure whether to confront him with it. They parked and started up the trail that she’d mentioned. Still nothing, but she seemed quite distracted.
Her distraction, and his own, almost got them both eaten. They had rounded a blind spot on the trail they were following and came upon a cougar and two cubs. The mother mountain lion had just caught a rabbit. She hadn’t killed it; the rabbit was still kicking. She was probably teaching the cubs how to hunt. Occupied by that task, she hadn’t heard their approach, or perhaps the scent of fresh blood had masked their own. The startled cougar snarled and braced for a charge, but seemed torn between going after these intruders and staying to protect her cubs and her lunch.
Whistler, on instinct, went into a crouch, first pulling Claudia behind him. He looked for a rock, a stick, any weapon, but there were none within reach. All he could think of was to slip off his jacket, maybe use it to blind the big cat if she charged.
He heard Claudia hiss, “Stop that and stand still.”
She was at his side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the jacket that he had removed to keep him raising or flapping it.
“Don’t crouch,” she said. “Stand up straight so you look big. Now back away slowly and stare, stare her down. Don’t look at the cubs. Only her.”
Her voice, more than calm, had a cooing sound. She could almost have been singing a lullaby.
“Now turn, really slowly, and we’ll walk down the trail.”
“Turn our backs?”
“Do it, Adam. She just wants us to leave.”
Whistler had no intention of turning his back, but he did start down the trail at her side. The cougar, in response, began to ease off as well. The mother cat’s snarls and threatening feints settled down into something like muttering. She hissed at her cubs. The hiss was telling them to leave. The cubs hesitated, then scampered away. The mother grabbed the rabbit and followed.
Claudia was silent for several minutes as they made their way back down the mountain. Whistler was watching her, admiring her, while keeping one eye on the trail behind them lest the cat reconsider its menu.
When Claudia spoke, she said, “You weren’t afraid.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell that to my pulse.”
She stopped and put a hand to his chest to feel its beat. “That’s not even seventy to the minute,” she said, “and we’re hiking eight thousand feet up.”
He thought that all she was trying to say was that she thought he’d been fairly brave. He said, “Back there? You’re the one who took over. All I did was what I was told.”
Another odd silence. She was walking very slowly. “Adam, will you answer a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you carry a gun?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“When you moved in front of me, you reached one hand behind you. You were reaching for the small of your back.”
“I was not.”
“In movies I’ve seen, that’s where men carry guns. You’re not carrying one now, but you reached for it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
She reached behind his waist and felt for his belt at the spot where she’d seen his hand go. “Your belt is worn down there. No, the leather is flattened. What
“Well, you’ve never...I don’t know. Never mind. It’s okay.”
“No, go ahead. If something’s bothering you...”
“Nothing is. It’s okay. Never mind.”
Whistler never claimed to know much about women, but he knew that “never mind” never meant “never mind.” Whatever it meant, he thought he’d probably find out before this latest visit was over. She said, “Let’s go someplace quiet. Just us.”
She said that she’d like to drive up into the mountains. They’d park and they’d walk a trail that she knew that offered some fabulous views. He took that to mean no interruptions.
She hadn’t said much while on the way up. Perhaps she was saving it for one of the views. He began to worry that she’d heard something somewhere and wasn’t sure whether to confront him with it. They parked and started up the trail that she’d mentioned. Still nothing, but she seemed quite distracted.
Her distraction, and his own, almost got them both eaten. They had rounded a blind spot on the trail they were following and came upon a cougar and two cubs. The mother mountain lion had just caught a rabbit. She hadn’t killed it; the rabbit was still kicking. She was probably teaching the cubs how to hunt. Occupied by that task, she hadn’t heard their approach, or perhaps the scent of fresh blood had masked their own. The startled cougar snarled and braced for a charge, but seemed torn between going after these intruders and staying to protect her cubs and her lunch.
Whistler, on instinct, went into a crouch, first pulling Claudia behind him. He looked for a rock, a stick, any weapon, but there were none within reach. All he could think of was to slip off his jacket, maybe use it to blind the big cat if she charged.
He heard Claudia hiss, “Stop that and stand still.”
She was at his side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the jacket that he had removed to keep him raising or flapping it.
“Don’t crouch,” she said. “Stand up straight so you look big. Now back away slowly and stare, stare her down. Don’t look at the cubs. Only her.”
Her voice, more than calm, had a cooing sound. She could almost have been singing a lullaby.
“Now turn, really slowly, and we’ll walk down the trail.”
“Turn our backs?”
“Do it, Adam. She just wants us to leave.”
Whistler had no intention of turning his back, but he did start down the trail at her side. The cougar, in response, began to ease off as well. The mother cat’s snarls and threatening feints settled down into something like muttering. She hissed at her cubs. The hiss was telling them to leave. The cubs hesitated, then scampered away. The mother grabbed the rabbit and followed.
Claudia was silent for several minutes as they made their way back down the mountain. Whistler was watching her, admiring her, while keeping one eye on the trail behind them lest the cat reconsider its menu.
When Claudia spoke, she said, “You weren’t afraid.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell that to my pulse.”
She stopped and put a hand to his chest to feel its beat. “That’s not even seventy to the minute,” she said, “and we’re hiking eight thousand feet up.”
He thought that all she was trying to say was that she thought he’d been fairly brave. He said, “Back there? You’re the one who took over. All I did was what I was told.”
Another odd silence. She was walking very slowly. “Adam, will you answer a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you carry a gun?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“When you moved in front of me, you reached one hand behind you. You were reaching for the small of your back.”
“I was not.”
“In movies I’ve seen, that’s where men carry guns. You’re not carrying one now, but you reached for it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
She reached behind his waist and felt for his belt at the spot where she’d seen his hand go. “Your belt is worn down there. No, the leather is flattened. What
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