Northern Lights

his companion.
    "I'm going to give him a couple of shots here." She took out a hypo, tapped it with a steady hand, squirted out a small stream. "Hold him still."
    "We can take him in to Ken."
    "It's not that bad. He wouldn't do any more than I can do here. Going to give him this, make him groggy so I can stitch up the deeper cuts. We'll give him an antibiotic after, wrap him up, let him sleep it off."
    She pinched a hunk of fur, then slid the needle in. Bull whimpered and rolled his eyes pitifully up at Nate. "Just relax, big guy, you're going to feel better in a minute."
    He stroked the dog while Meg started to suture. "You keep all that stuff around the house?"
    "Out here, you never know. Maybe you slice your leg or whatever cutting wood, power's out, roads are blocked, what are you going to do?"
    Her brows were knitted as she worked, her voice calm and matterof-fact. "Can't depend on getting to a doctor for every damn thing. There now, baby doll, nearly done. We're going to keep you nice and warm. I've got this salve here. It'll help it heal and keep him from gnawing at it 'cause it tastes foul. Gonna bandage him up. Take him in tomorrow, have him looked at, but it's not too bad."
    When the dog was sleeping under a blanket with Rock curled beside him, she picked up the wine bottle and drank from it. Now her hands shook violently. "Jesus Christ."
    Nate took the bottle from her, set it carefully aside. Then he gripped her elbows and jerked her an inch off the floor. "Don't you ever, ever do anything like that again."
    "Hey!"
    "Look at me. Listen to me."
    She hardly had a choice as his voice was booming, and his face, rigid with fury, engulfed her vision.
    "Don't you ever take a risk like that again."
    "I had to—"
    "No, you didn't. I was here. You didn't have to go running out of the house, half naked, to take on a grizzly."
    "It wasn't a grizzly," she shouted back at him. "It was a black bear."
    He dropped her back on her feet. "Damn it, Meg."
    "I can take care of myself and what's mine."
    He spun back around, his face so full of rage, she backed up a step. This wasn't the patient lover; it wasn't the cold-eyed cop. This was a furious man with enough heat blasting out to boil her alive.
    "You're mine now, so get used to it."
    "I'm not going to stand around and act helpless because—"
    "Helpless, my ass. Who wants you to act helpless? There's a big fucking difference between acting helpless and running out of the house in your underwear when you don't know the situation. There's a big damn difference, Meg, when you try to shove me aside by ramming the butt of a rifle in my gut."
    "I didn't . . . did I?" Oddly enough it was his full-blown temper that cut hers down to manageable, that allowed her to think again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That was wrong."
    She pressed her hands to her face, took several deep breaths until the fear, the anger, the shaky aftermath of both eased.
    "Some of the other stuff was probably wrong, but I just reacted. I . . ." She held out a hand, palm out for peace, then picked up her wine again. She sipped slowly to soothe her raw throat.
    "My dogs are my partners. You understand you don't hesitate when your partner's in trouble. And I did know the situation. There wasn't time to explain it. And I haven't taken time to tell you it felt . . . all kinds of good and different things to know you were beside me out there. Even if I didn't act like it, I knew you were there, and it mattered."
    Her voice thickened so she pressed the fingers of her free hand to her eyes until she had it under control. "You want to be mad, I won't hold it against you. But maybe you could wait to finish yelling at me until I get some clothes on. I'm cold."
    "I guess I'm finished." He stepped toward her, pulled her into his arms and held on like fury.
    "Look at that. I'm shaking." She burrowed into him. "I wouldn't be if you weren't here to hang on to."
    "Let's get you dressed." He kept an arm around her until they were in the living room, then he walked over to put another log on the fire.
    "I've got a need to take care of you," he said quietly. "I'm not going to drown you in it."
    "I know. I've got a need to take care of myself, but I'll try not to shove you away with it."
    "Okay. Now, explain about the baiting."
    "Bears like to eat. That's why you bury or seal your scraps when you're camping, why you carry any food supplies in sealed containers and hang them up, away from camp. That's why you build a cache for supplies