Max was already moving. I yelled after him. "Max, if I slow you down, keep going. Go! Keep the horses safe." He turned to argue, but I was right. The horses were the reason for us being there. "I can take care of myself. I shot it last night, I'll shoot it again. If it comes. But it won't, it's headed for the horses."
He nodded briefly, and then turned and in that ground-eating stride of his, half-walked, half-ran in the direction of the stable. He never looked back and was soon lost in the trees.
I waited for fear to descend like a dark cloak because Max had been my security, his presence the thing that had vanquished the nightmare of near death. So I waited, debating how best to get home in the grip of pure terror.
It never came. The surrounding forest didn't change from the familiar woods of my childhood into something sinister, the sky didn't morph from blue to gray and the usual sounds of the forest reassured me with the every-day chirps and scurries and muted songs I was used to. So after just enough time to make sure my return to normalcy was real and I wasn't likely to suffer a panic attack half-way home, I set off.
Half an hour later, I trotted out of the forest and into the Green Forest Stable clearing and bright afternoon sunshine. Max was already there and came to meet me. I stared. "You got him."
"No."
"You're bloody."
He pointed to a spot between the stable and the surrounding forest. "I dragged the deer carcass back."
"Bait?"
"Yep, and I'll be ready when it comes."
"It's awfully close to the stable. Why not at the edge of the woods?"
"I want that sucker to be where I can see it easily. Take aim. And send it out of this life." I studied the space, large enough to exercise the horses outside of the arena without taking them into the forest. "It's a big enough space for two or three shots if I miss the first time."
"You won't miss."
"I usually don't but this cat isn't behaving like most cougars and that fact has got me spooked. Judging from the size of the tracks I followed, it's huge. Two reasons to give myself extra time and space."
We backed into the open stable doorway as Max looked at the sun. "Now we wait."
"I hope it comes soon."
"Unlikely. This particular cat seems to prefer the dark."
I shivered. "It's hungry, its choices are narrowing and we stole the carcass it was saving. Time is running out. It might come during the day."
Max saw me shiver. "Don't worry. Day or night, we'll get it."
I took a deep breath but it was watching Max that steadied me. He was as unconcerned as if he were in a city park in the middle of the day in a peaceful neighborhood. Optimistic. Calm.
I stared through him, to his core. "You're enjoying yourself."
He tilted his head slightly and that half-smile I'd come to recognize flashed in his eyes. "In a way."
"You're a sadist."
"Tonight we make the world safer for all horses everywhere."
"That sounds like something Carlos would say."
"He's a good guy."
"When I left him in the hospital, he said you'd take care of things. He meant you'd kill the cougar."
"And I will."
"He wouldn't have stayed in the hospital if you weren't here. He'd have hobbled out on a leg that's now broken in three places."
"Then I'm glad I happened along."
We didn't talk much after that. We were too keyed up to eat more than a minimal meal as the day gradually darkened but we shut the stable door and went to the kitchen, telling ourselves we should eat. Once there, we pretended to down sliced lunchmeat, but the lengthening shadows took more of our attention than the food on our plates until finally, giving up all pretense of eating, we dumped the remainder of our meal in the garbage and settled for hot coffee in huge mugs on the porch that gave a better view of the deer carcass. We remained there until full dark settled like a mantle over Green Forest Stables.
"Should we return to the stable or stay here?" My voice was a whisper because it seemed right. "We can see just fine from here."
"Good idea. The stable is locked up tight. The puma won't try to get in it as long as there's an easier meal close by."
He strolled to the edge of the porch and settled along the railing, the thirty-ought-six cradled in one arm, leaning against a post, slowly becoming one more silhouette in the darkening world. His field of vision included the area in front of the barn. The deer carcass. The trees beyond. And the space where horses normally exercised. All faintly lit by moonlight that barely penetrated a thin veil of clouds. Why couldn't the sky be clear on this night of all nights so we could see the cougar if it came? When it came.
It was a quiet. Too quiet? I tried to think but I couldn't seem to remember what a normal night was like so I paced, back and forth, checking the moon each time I reached the edge of the porch. Making sure it was still visible and the clouds weren't growing thicker. Looking for stars through those thin clouds. A few showed, a good sign. I counted them. I wanted to know each and every one that would give enough light to show the cougar if it came. When it came.
Max was almost asleep. Seemed like it anyway. “They are the same stars you counted last time you checked.”
“I can't help it. I can't sit here and do nothing.”
“Yes you can. The cougar will come when it comes.” His eyes turned towards me. They shone in the dark. "I watched when you came home. Through the woods. You were scared when we started out this morning. Terrified. You changed in the forest, during the day, during the walk home. Somehow. You're not afraid any more."
So it showed. "Yes I am."
"But it doesn't control you any more. You control it."
"I grew up around here. The walk reminded me that this is my home and I've never been afraid in the woods." The forest of my childhood had begun the work of restoring the peace I'd known before the cougar appeared. "Besides, I knew the cougar wasn't close by."
"You'd know if it was." Because everything would go silent.
"Yes, I'd know." Because I knew more about dangerous predators than a few days ago.
He hefted the thirty-ought-six. “Maybe you should get the shotgun.” I hadn't realized I'd left it in the kitchen. "Two guns are better than one."
I returned to the kitchen and grabbed it, feeling the weight of it, thankful my dad had persisted until I knew at least the basics of using a weapon. Glad also that he’d had the sense to send me into the world with a shotgun that someone like me could shoot with a reasonable expectation of hitting what I needed to hit. Because of that training, I'd hit the cougar once. I'd drawn blood.
I moved the shotgun from one hand to the other, feeling the heft of it, knowing I could repeat the process tonight if necessary. If the worst happened. If I had to shoot. I could because I'd taken that walk and was no longer terrified. I could do it if Max missed. But he wouldn’t. Max always hit where he aimed and that knowledge was the most comforting of all.
He slipped casually from the porch and stepped into the night, sauntering into the yard and I followed.
The moon gave just enough light to know the cougar was nowhere near. We walked quietly to the arena and scanned the empty space, paying especial attention to the barrels at the far end and the low jumps at the half-way point but no cat eyes stared back.
Max turned restlessly and inspected the rest of the Green Forest property. "I'm going to take a stroll around the fence.” Along the edge of the forest, passing the deer carcass to reach it.
"I'm coming too."
He sighed in reluctant agreement and gestured for me to follow. I hung far back the better to see Max and everything around him. I watched him move. Past the deer carcass. Towards the trees. He walked with an air of competence. And he had that rifle, held loosely so it could be raised in an instant.
The cougar came out of the night so quickly I almost m