“He blamed the mauling on himself.” Dodge took another sip of his coffee. “He ran his dogs right into the sow as she and her cubs were feeding on a moose. If Sheldon Starr hadn’t happened to be flying overhead, Charlie would be dead instead of the bear.”

As the story went, Sheldon chased the bear away, set down, and still had to shoot the animal when it charged again.

The story was legendary, mostly because Charlie had survived, his arm nearly torn off, deep wounds in his legs and torso, his scalp nearly severed from his head.

Dodge still remembered flying out with his father to rescue Echo, who’d been left behind with their dogs. He’d mushed the dogs back to her house, his first time alone with them. “The cubs needed a home, and Charlie took them in.”

“Elsa and George,” Mal said. “We used to go ’round their place when they had dog litters. Got a number of dogs from Charlie, but really, we were there to see the bears. I’d never gotten that close to a grizzly, never mind petting them.”

Dodge finished off his pot pie and was contemplating an order of those chili fries to take home. “Reminded me of that television show—the one with the tame bear.”

“Gentle Ben?” Nash said.

Malachi frowned at him.

“Hey. My dad had every episode on VHS. What can I say? We loved it.”

Dodge shook his head. “Not Gentle Ben. That’s in Florida with a black bear. I’m talking about the one with the grizzly.”

“Idaho calls Charlie Grizzly Adams,” Mal said.

“That’s the one,” Dodge agreed. Yes, definitely he’d need the fries.

“Charlie tagged the bears and freed them into the wild a few years ago,” Mal said. “Rumor is that George is lost, but Elsa is still around. Charlie has some research grant to study her and her cubs. People say he goes out into the bush and tracks her. That they have a connection.” He finger-quoted the last word.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have a wife,” Nash said, and Dodge gave him a look.

“What? My dad said Charlie went a little crazy after Effie left. He and Echo all alone out there—”

“They weren’t alone,” Dodge said and got up. He didn’t need the fries.

Silence, then Nash smirked. “Right. I forgot. They’re the closest homestead to your outfit, aren’t they? No wonder you and Echo were so tight. Hard for a guy to wedge between you two.”

Huh. Hadn’t been that hard for Colt. Dodge dug into his pocket. “That was a long time ago. Water. Bridge.”

Mal said nothing, and Nash had the decency to turn to the bar and order. That’s what Dodge got for venturing back into a town that couldn’t forget.

He pulled out a ten and dropped it on the counter. “Thanks, Vic.”