Don't Cry for Me. Шарон Сала
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himself.
Determined not to make an issue out of this, he went straight upstairs and into the shower. By the time he came out, the scent of heating meatloaf brought him down the stairs double-time. Mariah was at the sink washing her hands. He walked up behind her.
“Something smells good,” he said.
“Your sister’s cooking. Meatloaf and roasted potatoes. Do you want a salad or a vegetable? I can open a can or chop up some lettuce.”
Quinn put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry I was such an ass. I don’t know what made me do that.”
She hesitated. “I do. This whole thing is awkward. We have a history, right?”
“Yeah, I’d say that’s a fact.”
“Only it was nothing but sex, right?”
This time Quinn didn’t answer.
She turned around. “Quinn?”
“I vote for salad.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You asked me if I wanted a vegetable or a salad. I vote for the salad, but if you want, I’ll chop it.”
Mariah sighed. Maybe he was smart to avoid discussing their past. Not when she was like this anyway—crippled in both body and brain.
“Fine. No onions in mine,” she said, and turned away too fast to see the disappointment flash across Quinn’s face.
* * *
The bear had managed to kill a small doe that morning, which had given it a brief burst of strength that had carried it nearly two miles farther down the creek. But the wound in its hip was like a sore tooth—the pain never went away. And it was hungry again. By the time it was dark, the bear had stopped.
As it sat, the water was just deep enough to wash over the infected wound and work a bit of medicinal magic. The cold, swiftly moving water both numbed the pain and flushed the running pus from the still-open flesh.
An owl hooted from a nearby tree.
The bear uttered a soft woof.
The owl took flight.
The bear sniffed the air, sensing a change in the weather.
Clouds were gathering to the southwest. A storm would blow through before morning. Minutes passed as the forest came alive with the creatures of the night.
Somewhere off in the distance, a dog howled. The bear lifted its head and sniffed the air again—anxiously this time. Nearby, a calf had become separated from its mother and bawled in a long, plaintive cry. Moments later, the cow answered back.
The bear’s belly was empty. The calf was near. Without hesitation, it stood up, waded to the creek bank and, grunting in pain as it climbed up and out, disappeared into the dark.
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