Black Hills

Boris can book when he wants. It’s strong, and can carry a prey of, say, a hundred pounds and still leap a six-foot fence. Man isn’t its usual prey, but according to most accepted records, tigers have killed more humans than any other cat.”
    “You seem to be making my point for me, Lil.”
    “No. No. Listen.” She dragged at her hair. “Most man-eaters are older—which Boris is—often going for a man because they’re easier to take down than larger prey. It’s solitary and secretive, like most cats, and if interested in man meat would hunt in sparsely populated areas. Its size and its strength mean it can kill smaller prey instantly.”
    Desperate to make him understand, she squeezed her hand on his on the table. “If I’d waited, that cat could’ve been miles away, or it could’ve wandered into my parents’ backyard. Your grandparents’ front pasture. It could’ve roamed to where the Silverson kids catch the bus for school. All while I was sitting inside, waiting for someone to help.”
    “You wouldn’t have had to wait if you hadn’t been alone.”
    “Do you want me to admit I underestimated this bastard? I did.” Both passion and apology shone in her eyes. “I was wrong. Horribly wrong, and that mistake could’ve cost lives. I never expected anything like this, never anticipated it. Damn it, Coop, did you? You know damn well I was taking precautions, because I made a point of telling you about the security systems I’d looked at.”
    “That’s right, when you came by to make sure I knew you’d have Farley here, so I wasn’t needed.”
    As her head started to pound, she dropped her gaze. “It made sense for Farley to be here, since they were leaving from here this morning. That’s all there was to it.”
    “Bullshit. For Christsake, Lil, do you think I’d put wanting you in bed above wanting you safe?”
    “No. Of course I don’t.” She looked at him again. “I don’t. Coop, I called you. I called you even before I called Willy.”
    “Because I was closer, handier, and you didn’t want your parents scared.”
    She heard the bitterness, and couldn’t blame him for it. “That’s all true, but also because I knew I could count on you. I knew, without any question, I could count on you to help me.”
    “You can, and to make sure you don’t forget it, sex is now off the table.”
    “Sorry?”
    “ You’re sorry?” Some of the temper—at least its sharp, leading edge—seemed to have dulled when he shook his head at her.
    “Yes. No. I mean I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Simple. Sex is out of the equation. I won’t touch you. I won’t ask you. And I’ll be here from dusk to dawn, every day. If I can’t be, someone else will be. I’ve got to go get caught up,” he said as he rose. “You’d better talk to your parents about this before someone else does.”

15
    He could’ve taken her out as easily as he had the elk calf, just aim and down she’d go. The tiger would’ve gone for her then, oh, yeah. A shot in the leg, he mused, playing it out in his head. Not a kill shot, just something to take her down. Would the tiger have traded elk for woman?
    He’d put money on it.
    And wouldn’t that have been something to see?
    But it wasn’t the game of choice. Plus it had been so interesting and entertaining to watch her. She’d surprised him, he had to admit it, even with what he knew of her. What he’d observed. He hadn’t expected her to act so quickly, so decisively, or to stalk the cat so expertly.
    He’d left her—life and death—and the rest of the game up to fate. And the cat.
    She’d shown courage, which he admired, and a cool head. If for no other reason, those traits, and his interest in them, had kept her alive for another day.
    Most of the others he’d hunted had been pathetically easy. The first had been an accident really. Just an impulse, just circumstances. But the incident had, in a very real sense, defined him. Given him a purpose he’d never had, and a means to honor his bloodline.
    He’d found his life with death.
    Now this last phase of the hunt raised the stakes considerably. This added such a zing. When the time came, she’d give him some real competition, some real satisfaction. No question about it. Better, certainly, than the couple of countrified deputies tromping around trying to follow his trail.
    He could take them out, too. So easily. He’d backtracked, circled around behind, and studied them as he might study some