Chapter 12
L auren strained to pull the black spandex bicycle shorts up over her butt. Once the tight material reached the bottom of her ribcage, she let out her breath and ran her hands over her hips. The material smoothed her out, but it wasn't something she'd wear in any of her videos.
She left her phone on the table. All her cameras, tripods, and filters were in her bag.
Mac's words yesterday had stung— You're not outdoorsy . He hadn't said it outright, but it was there, tucked beneath his tone, folded into the way he looked at her, as if she didn't belong.
She wasn't doing this for him.
She was doing it for herself.
She emptied her gear bag, the one usually packed with battery lights and lens cloths, and filled it with cheese, crackers, summer sausage, and two bottles of water. She added a small trash bag, because she wasn't a savage, and slung the pack over her shoulder.
At the lodge, the woman who worked there had warned her that the trail to the ridge was steep, winding through thick trees and uneven ground. But it would only take her an hour to reach the top.
She left, making sure the door shut behind her. The family staying in the cabin beside her was clustered around their car, packing bags into the trunk.
"Leaving already?" She smiled.
Glen—she couldn't remember his last name—brushed his hands together. "We both have to work on Monday, so it's off to the airport we go."
"Well, it was nice to meet you. You have a beautiful family." She watched one of the young girls drag a stick in the dirt, trying to write her name.
"Thanks." Glen lifted his chin. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation."
"I will." She walked down to the common trail that would take her to the lake.
Children squealed as they jumped off the dock into the swimming area. She'd considered swimming instead of hiking, but she noticed that's where families gathered all day. She didn't want to intrude.
Twenty minutes into her hike, her calves were burning, her shirt was clinging to her back, and sweat gathered beneath her cap. But she kept going. Step after step. Huff after puff.
Two men jogged down the trail. She stepped to the side to let them pass. They both stopped in front of her.
"Going to the top?" The dark-haired man thrust his fingers in his hair, sweeping the strands off his forehead.
"Attempting to." She laughed. "Am I at least halfway there?"
"More than that. If you keep walking, you'll get to the ridge in about fifteen minutes, give or take a few." The other man pointed. "You'll see a marker in about fifty yards. Stay to the right on the bigger path. There's a narrower path that veers to the left that's an animal trail."
"Sweet. Thanks." She waved as they jogged by her.
She blew out her breath. Let's hope the deer used the animal trail, as she forgot the bear spray she bought at the lodge.
"Come on. Get your butt in gear and get to the top," she muttered, trying to motivate herself.
Twenty minutes later, she reached the top, and the view stole what little breath she had left.
The lake stretched below, a mirror of sky and forest. The campground looked tiny from here, like a toy village tucked into the trees.
She lowered herself onto a flat rock and sat, taking off her backpack.
It really was pleasant up here. She was higher in elevation and away from the noise of the campground.
She pulled out her lunch and ate slowly, savoring the silence.
Without her phone, there were no notifications.
No comments. No messages. Just the wind, birds, and the distant ripple of water.
There must be a small stream nearby. Although, she had no plans to explore off the trails.
Avaline had warned her about the dangers of venturing too far away from the campground.
She was proud of herself for making it all the way up to the ridge. The physical activity gave her an adrenaline boost. She felt stronger, as if she'd peeled back a layer of herself that she knew was there, but she had never gotten to enjoy. And other people never got to see.
Sure, her videos were all about traveling and the outdoors. But maybe her viewers were like Mac and assumed it was all pretend that she was performing for the camera. That every piece of creative content was carefully crafted and finely manipulated.
She stared down at the lake. Maybe in a way, he was right. How often had she taken time to create a scene? She spent more time getting the content than enjoying the moment. It was something she wanted to get better at doing.
Nobody saw her break a sweat or struggle out of her comfort zone. She always wore a sundress. Looking at her legs, she laughed softly. There was dust all over her. Nobody would even recognize her online if they saw her today.
When she finished eating, she packed up her trash, zipped her bag, and stood. She'd accomplished her goal. The hike up to the ridge was worth it in more ways than one.
Giving the lake one more look, she captured it in her memory and headed down the hill.
That's when she saw it.
She wasn't sure if it was the breathy growl or the stillness that grabbed her attention first.
Standing on two legs in front of her, blocking the path was a bear.
It stood at the edge of the trail, massive and frozen in place, its dark eyes fixed on her. Not aggressive. Not charging. Just freaking her out.
Her breath caught as panic set in.
She hadn't brought bear spray.
Her heart thudded in her chest, loud and fast. She remembered the instructions on the pamphlet in the cabin and on the poster in the lodge. Don't run. Don't scream. Make yourself big. Speak calmly but firmly.
If it's a black bear, she's supposed to make a lot of noise. If it's a grizzly bear, she's supposed to stand her ground.
Oh, Lord, she had no idea what kind of bear it was. It wasn't exactly black. What if she got the instructions turned around and did the wrong thing?
She swallowed hard. "Hey, Bear," she said, voice trembling. "I'll just stand back here. You can go on the trail first."
The bear stood on its back legs, growing bigger in front of her.
She took a slow step back. Then another.
A branch snapped beneath her foot, and the bear's ears twitched, and he landed on all four paws.
The ground shook. Lauren froze.
She wasn't a wilderness girl. Not really. She'd hiked trails in national parks, posed beside waterfalls, but always within sight of safety, always with a plan.
This was different.
This was dangerous.
Just her.
And the bear.
She was never going to survive if she couldn't even follow simple directions.
Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears.
She'd read about bear encounters. She'd skimmed the pamphlets.
But none of them had prepared her for the sheer size of the animal in front of her, or the way the scent of the bear made the air feel thick.
She wasn't even sure she could run if the animal charged her way.
Then, from behind the bear, a young voice said, "Hey!"
She blinked. Jetter?
Mac's son stepped to the side of the trail and stood calmly with his hands at his sides, looking like he'd just wandered into a grocery store and found the cereal aisle blocked.
"Jetter," she hissed. "Run!"
He raised his arms straight out to his sides. "I don't think that's a good idea."
Her panic spiked. "You're going to get hurt."
"Probably not." Jetter tilted his head. "You're the one standing between him and where he likes to take his afternoon naps."
Lauren stared at him. "Are you kidding?"
He shrugged, just like his father. "Not really."
She raised her arms high in the air. "Okay, bear." Her voice trembled. "Time to leave. Shoo."
The bear blinked and let out a wicked growl, baring its teeth.
Lauren glanced at Jetter. "What do we do?"
He stepped forward slightly, still keeping a respectful distance. "We wait. He hasn't done anything wrong. He's just being a bear."
She gaped at him. "What if he decides to eat us for lunch?"
Jetter laughed. "I have bear spray."
He held up his arm, and sure enough, a canister was strapped to his wrist like a badge of honor.
Lauren exhaled, half in relief, half in disbelief. "Why are you so calm?"
"Because bears don't want to hurt people," he said simply. "We're in his territory. He's deciding if we're a threat."
The bear, apparently tired of listening to them talk, snorted once and ambled off the trail. Its massive body disappeared into the brush, branches swaying behind it. Lauren watched until the vegetation stopped moving and she could no longer hear the rustle of leaves or smell the musky scent of fur.
She turned to Jetter, still stunned. "You're my hero."
He grinned. "I get that a lot."
Lauren laughed, shaky but genuine. She'd come up here to prove something to herself. She hadn't expected to be saved by a twelve-year-old with a can of bear spray and nerves of steel.
And somehow, that made her feel safer than anything else had in a long time.