Page 101 of Big Dill

“Look,” he says.

I follow his gaze, and my breath leaves me in a rush. I grab his arm without thinking. “Oh my God, Brody.”

Just beyond the tree line, lumbering through the snow-dusted clearing, is a massive black bear, and tucked close to her side, wobbling and wide-eyed, is her baby.

“Mama and her cub,” he says.

I can’t look away. It’s honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “I’ve never seen a bear in the wild before. How old would her baby be?”

“They’re born in the winter den,” he explains. “They usually emerge late April or early May. He taps the steering wheel and leans into it. “That little one’s only four or five months old.”

“It looks like a small dog,” I whisper, awed. “I never knew they could be that small. For some reason I thought they’d be bigger than that when first born.”

“Nope. Tiny. That little one is learning survival skills from its ma. Probably transitioning from nursing to solid food.”

A shiver runs through me—not from the cold. “I’m really glad we didn’t run into them on the snowmobile yesterday. I know mama bears are fierce when protecting her baby, and I wouldn’t want to be part of that cub’s transition.”

He chuckles under his breath and laces his fingers with mine. “I would’ve kept you safe.”

I nod, because I believe him. Completely. With him, I don’t just feel safe. I am safe.

The helicopter dips lower, its noise finally startling the bears. The mother ushers her cub back into the trees, dark shapes swallowed by the forest. Once they’re gone, Brody gently taps the gas and the truck rolls forward again.

After a beat, he glances at me. “Did you know the mother bear basically feeds her baby while she’s mostly asleep?”

I blink. “I did not know that.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Mama lives off her fat reserves. The milk’s super rich, loaded with fat and nutrients. Keeps the cubs growing even when she’s conserving energy.”

I tilt my head, studying him. “How do you know so much about bears?”

“From living here. We’re in their territory, so we learn about them, for their protection and for ours.”

“I’d never want to see one hurt.”

The helicopter’s distant thrum fades into the sky, and Brody glances up through the windshield. “They’re probably heading off to fly over the falls.”

“Churchill Falls?” I perk up as he nods. “Can you tell me more about that?”

He gives me a sideways look, clearly suspicious. “You actually want to hear?”

“Yeah,” I say, surprised by my own eagerness. “I really do. How does it all work? All I know is they supply electricity to Quebec.”

“Okay,” he says, settling into explanation mode. I sit up a little straighter, attentive, and maybe a little too aware of how much I like listening to him talk. “The generating station uses the Churchill River’s waterfall to create power. The water’s diverted through massive tunnels to an underground powerhouse.”

“I heard someone say it’s like a thousand feet underground.”

“It is. It’s as tall as a fifteen-story building and as long as three football fields. All carved straight out of solid granite.”

My eyes widen. “That’s incredible.”

“You get down by elevator.”

I wrinkle my nose. “That’s one heck of an elevator ride. I was hoping for a slide or something.”

He laughs, low and warm. “The underground turbines harness the water’s force and convert that mechanical energy into electricity. It’s actually really cool, Jami. You should do the tour.”

“You’ve done it?”