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Sly: I’ll pick you up at six.
I suppressed the gleeful shriek I wanted to let go, and shoved my phone back into my pocket instead. We had a job to do.
“There it is,” Betty said, pointing up to where the camera was mounted on a tree trunk, about ten feet up. It was hanging at an odd angle.
I pulled off my pack, which had a telescoping ladder attached to it, and we set it up on the tree. Betty climbed up, readjusting the camera to focus back on the den, which was tucked beneath a rocky outcropping. I kept an eye on the GPS tracker, making sure we wouldn’t have surprise company while Betty was working. It was never fun to have to use bear spray or tranquilizers in a situation like this.
The cubs weren’t tagged, but this far into the summer, they were unlikely to be far from their mother, so there was no reason to risk climbing into the den to check on them as we’d done earlier in the spring.
“Got it,” Betty said, and then she climbed down and we packed the ladder back up.
We checked the GPS to ensure mama bear wasn’t in our path back to the truck, and headed off through the trees. As we reached the vehicle, and loaded back up, Betty came around, holding the tracker. The little dot that indicated mama bear was just inside the tree line now, maybe twenty-five feet from where we stood. We climbed into the truck and watched as the whole family wandered by, mama giving the truck a quick raised-head sniff and then hustling three cubs back into the brush. My heart soared and I felt the grin spread over my face. I couldn’t help it. I loved this part of my job.
As we drove back, my focus was on the forest around us and the bears we took care of from a distance, but thoughts of being alone with Sly kept slipping in and tiny sparks of excitement flickered inside me.
* * *
We headed back to headquarters in the afternoon, and when I stepped inside the office, I checked the message I’d gotten just before Sly’s text had popped up, distracting me. I hoped it would be news about the job.
I slid into my desk, listening to the message, which was from my boss.
His stern voice sounded slightly warped in the message. “Come see me when you get back from the field today.”
That could be anything, really. I had messages like that most days. But with my application under final consideration for the supervisory position, I suspected I knew what it was about. If not what the outcome of my hopes might be.
“Clara, come in.” Paul smiled as I knocked on the frame of his office door.
“Hey,” I said, stepping inside.
“Wanna close that for a second?” he nodded toward the door, and I pulled it shut and then sat across his desk from him. “How’d it go in the field today?”
“Fine. We fixed the camera that got knocked out by the storm. The whole family wandered by it when we were heading back in. Looks like Mom and babies are doing well.”
“That’s good.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Well, enjoy this week in the field, Clara, because I’m afraid it’ll be your last.”
“Wha—?” Horror settled over me. He was firing me? “I’m sorry?”
“Yep. Next week you’ll be riding a desk in your very own office right next door to me.” He pointed a thumb to his right.
Cool relief replaced the sudden fear that had swept through me. “I got it?”
“You got it. The choice was clear. Congratulations.”
Regular hours. An office job. No more cell phone cutting out, no more being away from Katie long hours. “That’s wonderful, thank you!”
“You deserve it,” he said. His voice was warm, and I took a second to absorb the emotions washing through me. I’d expected to be ecstatic, thrilled, even. But I wasn’t. And though it was always a compliment to be selected, I felt a strange twist of disappointment.
“Okay, so...Monday?” I asked Paul.
“Monday.”
“Thanks,” I said again, rising.
“Just try to get things wrapped up in your notes, but since it isn’t like you’ll be leaving, it’s not too critical.”
“I will,” I said. “Anything else?” I paused at the door.
“Enjoy your last week in the field. You’ll tell Betty?”
