“For now.” She turned to Dodge even as she watched over his shoulder as her husband hiked back to the beach. “I’m ready, I think, to be done here.” She sighed, and one of the dogs slipped past her and ran out, barking. “It’s not just the bear. It’s the life. It’s beautiful and—”

“Exhausting. I get it.”

Archie returned, and Dodge lifted a crate from him and carried it in the house.

Spike was right about the smell. But Nola kept the place clean—a cast-iron stove sat in the center of the room, toasty warm, and separated the kitchen from the family room. A worn sofa and chair, clearly handmade with some craftsmanship, faced the stove, and along the wall, books filled floor-to-ceiling shelves. The dogs were mostly cordoned in a back room, whining to be freed. And above it all, a loft overlooked the main room.

“That would be our bedroom,” Nola said of the kennel. “We’ve been sleeping with the kids, so that’s fun.” She pointed to the loft. “I can barely get my nine-month big belly up there.”

“I’ll get Hank out here.”

“Spike tried to shoot it, but the bear seems unfazed. I know he’s wounded—we found blood.”

“He probably is, and that’s why he didn’t leave. Too much easy food around here. He’ll have to be moved, if not put down.”

“You could have killed him from the air.” She folded her arms over her belly.

“I could lose my license that way.” He put his hand on her shoulder as Spike came in with the last of the supplies. “Hang tight.”

“If the bear comes back, he’s dead,” Spike said.

“Fair enough, and probably for the best.”

“Stick around for lunch?” Nola asked with so much pleading in her eyes he couldn’t turn her down.

She needed gossip from the outside world, and he did his best to update her with Larke’s information. The Spam stew found the nooks and crannies of his stomach, and Spike updated him on the homestead and his plans to upgrade it.

He ignored a stab of envy—once upon a time, he’d dreamed of a future in this land.

Checking in with the homesteaders, giving the latest news, and even just assessing their mental health was as much of his job as ferrying supplies.

“I’ll be back in a couple weeks,” Dodge said as he stepped out of the house a couple hours later. He cast a look at the sky. Dark clouds hedged the horizon.

Running a quick check, he climbed back in the PA-14 and fired her up. Lifted into the air.

Angling out of the jagged valley, he circled back to where he’d last seen the grizzly.