“He’s just a cub.” Sarah said quietly, her eyes diverted.
“It doesn’t matter. Where there’s a cub, there’s a mother.” Her father shoved his arms into his jacket, grabbed the rifle resting by the door and stepped out onto the porch. He looked back at his daughter. “And you know a mother will do anything to protect it’s child. As will her father.” He smiled grimly at her before turning and heading down the steps into the yard.
The winter wind was biting and Sarah wrapped her arms around herself as she watched her father’s back retreat into the flurrying snow.
A few flakes rode the wind inside the house and landed in her hair before she could shut the door. As they melted, Sarah could feel their icy chill running through her hair and down the back of her neck.
Sarah walked into the living room where she stoked the fire and added more wood. It was the only source of heat in the small cabin so either her father or Sarah always made sure it was going strong if they walked through the room. Sitting on the rug before the fire, Sarah gazed into the flames and brooded.
A noise coming from the back of the house snapped her out of her reverie. It was a bumping, scuffling noise. Sarah rose from her position on the floor and stood still to listen. Something scraped across the floor in the utility room and bumped into the door. Fearing her father had been hurt and was crawling in the back door, Sarah ran to the hallway and threw open the utility room door.
“Father!” She cried, expecting to see his large form on the floor.
Instead of her father on the floor, a large black shape loomed in the doorway. The mother bear let out a loud roar and Sarah, unable to scream, fell backward onto her rump in the hallway.
~ Eileen 🙂