Dawn Stewardson - Wild Action

“Well, Attila always worked better for Gus than he did for me. So I suspect he considers me just a backup trainer. And now he’s acting like a child who’s trying to see just how much he can get away with.”

“But if he worked better for Gus, then the two of you must have done things differently. Why don’t you try doing everything exactly the way he did?”

“I already do. We always used the same tone and commands and hand signals. You have to with animals or they get confused. So there’s got to be some thing else involved. Maybe something as simple as the fact that Gus was a lot bigger than me.”

Nick eyed her, doubting she’d weigh a hundred and fifteen pounds sopping wet.

“Or maybe it’s that bears find a deeper male voice more authoritative.”

“That’s a fact?”

“No, it’s just a possibility. Nick, the only real facts I have are that Attila responded better to Gus and that right now I can’t count on him to listen. So I can’t help thinking…”

Carly paused, then the rest of her words came rushing out all at once. “It would make a lot of sense to try another man working with Attila. Ideally, one who resembles Gus. And if you wore some of Gus’s clothes, his scent would even be mingled with yours.”

Nick simply stared at her, the words you and yours flashing like neon signs in front of his eyes.

She gave him a weak smile.

“Oh, no,” he said at last. “Absolutely, unequivocably no. You are the one who bottle-raised that bear. You are the one who figures he’s a pet. You are the animal expert here.

“ I , on the other hand, don’t know a damn thing about bears except that they can kill people. Plus, I’m a complete stranger to him—one he outweighs by more than four hundred pounds. I’d have to be out of my tree to try working with him.”

Carly gazed at her sandals for a long minute, then finally shrugged. “I didn’t really think you’d like the idea.”

Nick resisted the urge to tell her she was the queen of understatement.

“I just…” She shrugged again, looking at him this time. “I guess it was a dumb suggestion, even though he really wouldn’t hurt you. We’ve done all kinds of shoots with him, and he’s never tried to harm anyone. And I’m so worried that if I can’t make him cooperate for Jay, and the agency ends up going down the tubes because of it…Well, I’m worried about what would happen to the animals if I couldn’t keep things going. Especially to Attila. It would be incredibly hard to find him a good home.”

Nick shoved himself out of his chair and began pacing the porch, thinking he was insane to even consider her idea. But if Attila didn’t perform, Jay Wall would bad-mouth them. And if that led to the agency going bust, there’d be no income to pay the mortgage—which would mean they’d lose the property, as well.

Still, he’d rather face a man pointing a .350 Magnum at him than get within mauling range of a bear.

“Why don’t we give Attila a little more time,” he finally suggested. “Maybe he’ll come around.”

“Or maybe he won’t.”

Turning away from Carly, Nick stared out across the clearing. He had no job and not much money. And if they blew this chance to establish a Hollywood connection, he’d probably have no inheritance to speak of, either.

But at least he’d still be alive, rather than—quite possibly—bear breakfast. That was certainly an important point to consider.

He weighed the issue for another minute, then took a deep breath and said, “You’re positive he’s never tried to harm anyone?”

“PUT THE HAT ON, TOO,” Carly said. “Gus always wore his hat.”

Nick took the cowboy hat off its peg and slapped it on his head, even though he knew damn well Attila wasn’t going to think he was Gus. Not for a second.

Clothes don’t make the man, the saying went. And the fact he had on a pair of Gus’s jeans and one of his shirts wasn’t going to fool a bear any more than it would a person.

“Good,” Carly said, eyeing him approvingly. “If you look and smell like Gus, it’s bound to help.”

That, Nick knew, was not a fact. It was merely another of her possibilities, and he didn’t like them any more than he liked her.

Maybe she’d initially seemed to be a nice woman, but first impressions could be wrong. And in this case there was no ‘could’ about it. That easy manner he’d liked had been hiding her true self—a manipulative woman who’d maneuvered him into doing this. And he hated being either manipulated or maneuvered. The problem was, he suspected he’d hate a life of poverty even more.

“Ready?” she said with a bright smile.

“Dying to meet him,” he muttered, hoping the remark wouldn’t prove prophetic. “But if he hurts me, I’ll be voting to turn him into a bearskin rug.”

“He won’t hurt you,” Carly said for the millionth time.

Picking up the pail full of raw, boned chicken, which she’d told him was the bear’s favorite treat, Nick followed her out the back door.

As they walked down the hill toward Attila’s field, he tried to convince himself it was only the heat that had him sweating buckets.

Every instinct for self-preservation was telling him to turn around and run, and the farther they walked, the harder it became to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Raising his forearm to his nose, he sniffed the sleeve of Gus’s shirt. He didn’t smell a damn thing, but Attila would. Carly had said bears had an incredible sense of smell. So Attila would smell Gus’s scent, but he’d know Nick wasn’t Gus. And he’d think…

What if he thought this guy who smelled like Gus was trying to put something over on him? And what if it made him mad as hell?

Nick wanted to ask Carly about that, but his heart was suddenly in his throat, making it impossible to speak. He could see the bear now. It had spotted them and was ambling in the direction of the fence.

“Hey, Attila,” Carly called.

The bear plonked down on his haunches about ten feet away from the gate. The next thing Nick knew, he and Carly had reached the fence.

He tried not to look at Attila while she sorted through the keys on her ring. Instead, he gazed at the pond, then eyed the hibernation cave. But despite his best efforts, his gaze was drawn back to the bear, and all he could think about was how damn big it was.

“Poor baby looks a little unkempt because he’s molting,” Carly said, sticking a key into the padlock.

Nick nodded, but he was far less interested in the condition of the bear’s fur than he was in the fact that its thick claws looked about a foot long. And its teeth were undoubtedly even bigger and sharper. The only small things about Attila were his rounded ears and beady little eyes.

“He’s not exactly Winnie the Pooh,” he whispered nervously as Carly opened the gate.

“He’s going to love you,” she whispered back. “Just follow me inside and put the pail down for the time being. He knows he doesn’t get the chicken until after he’s been good.

“Hi, Attila,” she added to the bear as Nick set the pail beside the fence. “I’ve brought someone to meet you.”

Attila grunted, then fixed Nick with a glare that didn’t look even remotely loving.

Not that he really wanted the bear’s love. He’d be happy if it just didn’t eat him. After all, Carly had admitted she couldn’t really count on Attila to listen to her at the moment.

“Now, I know you’re probably feeling a little uneasy,” she said, glancing at Nick and slipping into her queen-of-understatement routine again. “But just try to remember everything I told you. Especially that you should never excite his predatory instinct by running.”