Montana Sky

from its perch.
    For a moment Tess just watched from the doorway. She was too stunned to do much more as she saw the grisly heap growing on the floor, and her sister muttering oaths as she muscled the towering grizzly out of its corner.
    If she hadn’t known better, Tess would have said Willa was locked in a life-and-death battle, with the bear in the lead. Since she did know better, she wasn’t certain whether she should laugh or run away.
    Instead of either, she pushed the hair back from her face, cleared her throat. “Wow. Who opened the zoo?”
    Willa whirled, her face contorted in rage, her eyes alive with it. The bear lost the edge of gravity and toppled like a tree. “No more trophies,” Willa said, and panted to get her breath. “No more trophies in this house.”
    Sanity seemed called for. Hoping to instill it, Tess leaned negligently against the doorjamb. “I can’t say that I’ve evercared for the decor in here, or elsewhere. Field and Stream isn’t my style. But what brought on this sudden urge to redecorate?”
    “No more trophies,” Willa repeated. Desperation had cemented into conviction. “Not them. Not us. Help me get them out.” She took a step, held out a hand. “Help me get them the hell out of our house.”
    When realization came, it was sweet. Stepping forward, Tess rolled up her sleeves, and there was a gleam in her eyes now. “My pleasure. Let’s evict Smokey here first.”
    Together they heaved and dragged the stuffed and snarling bear to the doorway, then through it. They’d made it to the top of the steps before Lily came running up them.
    “What in the world—For a minute I thought—” She pressed a hand to her speeding heart. “I thought you were about to be eaten alive.”
    “This one had his last meal some time ago,” Willa managed to say, and tried for a better grip.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Redecorating,” Tess announced. “Give us a hand with this bastard. He’s heavy.”
    “No, screw it.” Willa blew out a breath. “Back off,” she warned, and when the stairs were clear she began to shove. “Come on, help me push.”
    “Okay.” Tess made a show of spitting on her hands, then put her back into it. “Push, Lily. Let’s dump this big guy together.”
    When he went, he went with a flourish, tumbling down the staircase with the noise of a thunderclap, dust puffing, claws clattering. At the din, Bess came rushing out from the kitchen, her face red with the effort and her hand on the .22 Baretta she’d taken to keeping in her apron pocket.
    “Name of God Almighty.” Huffing for air, Bess slapped her hands on her hips. “What are you girls up to? You’ve got a bear in the foyer.”
    “He was just leaving,” Tess called out, and began to whoop with laughter.
    “I’d like to know who’s going to clean up this mess.”Bess nudged the trophy with her toe, considering it every bit as nasty dead as alive.
    “We are.” Willa swiped her palms over her jeans. “Just consider it spring cleaning.” She turned on her heel and marched back into the office.
    Now, with the first thrust of fury deadened, she could see clearly what she’d done. Heads and bodies were strewn all over the room like bomb victims after a blast. Wooden mountings were cracked or chipped where she’d thrown them. Eerily, a loosened glass eye stared up at her from the beautiful pattern of the carpet.
    “Oh, my God.” She let out one long breath, then another. “Oh, my God,” she said again.
    “You sure showed them, pal.” Tess gave her a light thump on the back. “They didn’t have a chance against you.”
    “It’s—” Lily pressed her lips together. “It’s horrible, isn’t it? Really horrible.” She hiccuped, turned away, pressed her lips tighter. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. I don’t mean to laugh.” She struggled to hold it back by crossing her arms hard over her stomach. “It’s just so awful. Like a wildlife garage sale or something.”
    “It’s hideous.” Tess lost her slippery hold on composure and began to giggle. “Hideous and morbid and obscene, and—oh, Jesus, Will, if you’d seen yourself when I first walked in. You looked like a madwoman doing the tango with a stuffed bear.”
    “I hate them. I’ve always hated them.” Her own laughter bubbled up until she simply sat on the floor and let it go.
    Then the three of them were sprawled on the floor, howling like loons amid the decapitated heads.
    “They’re all going,” Willa