Wild Action

“We’re almost home,” she said, pointing toward the township sign and changing the subject.

“Township of Scugog,” Nick read aloud.

“In Ojibway, it means ‘muddy, shallow water.’”

“Ahh.”

When he seemed content to simply watch the passing scenery for the remainder of the trip, Carly let her thoughts drift back to the meeting in Brown’s office. Nick had taken the bad news a lot more coolly than she would have. But she had a horrible feeling he wasn’t going to be even half as cool when it came to Attila.

Turning onto the Sixth Line, she decided it might be smart to give her new partner four or five drinks of Gus’s best Scotch before they talked about Attila.

WHEN THEY TURNED ONTO the gravel road that Carly said led to the house, Nick could see she hadn’t been joking about a lot of their property being forest.

Huge trees overhung the road on either side, with only the hydro poles and power lines to indicate this wasn’t really the middle of nowhere. Then the road curved and they were at one edge of a fifteen-or twenty-acre clearing with the house ahead in the distance.

Built of gorgeous old fieldstone, it had white gingerbread trim on both the second-story gables and the overhang of the porch. He was just about to comment on how nice it was when four large gray blurs appeared from nowhere and streaked toward the van.

“Wolves?” he said anxiously. “You didn’t tell me we had wolves.”

“We don’t. Those are the dogs. We took them because they looked so much like gray wolves, even as pups, but they’re actually half husky and half malamute.

“They’re perfectly safe. They don’t even bother the rabbits,” she added, giving him an amused glance as she pulled the van to a stop. “Their names are Harpo, Chico, Groucho and Zeppo. Collectively, of course, we refer to them as the Marx brothers.”

And Uncle Gus, Nick remembered someone once mentioning, had been a huge Marx brothers fan.

“I said we, didn’t I?” Carly murmured with a sad little smile. “I wonder how long it’ll take before I stop doing that.”

She got out of the van and hugged each of the dogs in turn. Then they rushed around to the passenger’s side and stood eyeing Nick through the window— drooling as if they were looking at lunch.

Checking them out from up close, he wondered if Carly was certain they weren’t at least part wolf. They were one hell of a size, and he’d never seen any other dogs with those sinister-looking yellow eyes.

Telling himself they weren’t a whole lot bigger than the German shepherds the police used, he opened his door and climbed out—the heat and humidity hitting him hard.

It had been hot in Alberta, but that was a dry heat. Ontario was at least as hot and sixty times more humid.

He cautiously extended his hand and let the dogs sniff it. Despite their appearance, they seemed friendly enough, so he risked taking his eyes off them long enough to get his suitcase and jacket from the back.

“I thought Dylan might still be here, but his truck’s gone,” Carly said. “The high school kid who’s been helping out,” she explained.

Nick nodded, then gestured toward the wooden building with the wired-in open area that stood maybe sixty yards away. “That’s the new aviary you mentioned?”

“Uh-huh. Attila’s field is at the bottom of the hill beside the house, and the little barn you can see is where we feed the rabbits and stable the ponies. But let’s save the grand tour until after you unpack and change. And then maybe you’d like a drink. There’s some Scotch that Gus used to say was smooth as silk.”

Glancing at his watch, Nick discovered it was only four-thirty. He’d been up for so long it seemed later. “It’s a little early for something as strong as Scotch,” he said, “but a cold beer would go down fine.”

They’d just started for the porch when a tremendous roar rattled his eardrums. He stopped dead, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Carly and the dogs continued along as if they were deaf.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded, hurrying to catch up.

“What was what?”

“That noise.”

“Oh, it was just Attila welcoming us home. He must have smelled us.”

“From this distance?”

Carly gave him another amused look. “Bears have an incredible sense of smell. They can scent things for miles. But he won’t mind if we don’t say hello until later.”

Nick looked in the direction of the hill, half surprised to see the ground wasn’t vibrating. The last time he’d heard anything that loud he’d been in Costa Rica, watching the Arenal Volcano spew fire and boulders—and that had made him a little nervous, too.

Following Carly the rest of the way to the house, he did his best to relax. After all, she’d told him she was perfectly fine with the bear, so there was no reason she’d need any help with it

He just wished he didn’t have the sense there was something she hadn’t told him.

CARLY CHANGED INTO SHORTS, then went back downstairs and chatted with Crackers while she made a jug of iced tea. The parrot loved company and was papertrained. So, years ago, Gus had built a big solariumtype addition to the kitchen, and Crackers was pretty good about staying in it.

“Treat!” he demanded as she stirred the tea.

She cut him a wedge of apple, then poured herself a glass of tea and put the jug into the fridge, lingering in front of the open door and thinking how heavenly the coolness felt

The house was too old to have central air, and Gus hadn’t liked air-conditioning anyway. He’d always said that even window units were for wimps, so she’d learned to live with the hot, muggy spell that inevitably settled in during July. But she’d far rather live without it.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she dug a beer from the back of the fridge and reluctantly closed the door. When she turned, Nick was standing in the kitchen eyeing Crackers.

“Is he usually out of his cage?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. He really hates being in it during the day. But he stays in it at night. I think he worries that one of the cats might try a sneak attack while he’s asleep.”

“Would they?”

“I doubt it. And if they did, they’d regret it. Big macaws have incredibly strong beaks. He could amputate a man’s hand. But he wouldn’t,” she added quickly. “He loves people.”

Nick nodded, although he didn’t look entirely convinced. Then he glanced at the beer she’d forgotten she was holding. “That looks good.”

“And you look like a cowboy,” she said, handing him the bottle. “You also look even more like Gus. He always wore jeans and boots.”

“Must be one of those things that run in families." Nick twisted the top off his beer and took a long, slow drink.

Watching him, Carly felt an unexpected twinge of attraction. Oh, she’d realized earlier what a good-looking man he was. But it had been an in-the-abstract kind of awareness, because he hadn’t struck her as her type.

Not that she exactly had a type. As she’d told him earlier, living out here meant her social life had never been exactly hectic. And there’d been nothing about any of the few men she had gone with over the years that had made her think they were Mr. Right.

When Nick lowered the bottle, she reached for her glass of tea and said, “Let’s sit outside. Maybe there’ll be a breeze.”

She gestured him to precede her, letting her thoughts drift back to where they’d been. Whatever her type was, Nick Montgomery wasn’t it. His hair was far too short for her taste, and in his suit he’d seemed too…civilized was the word that came to mind.

Although now, she had to admit, with those hiphugging jeans and his T-shirt clinging to every muscle, that wasn’t true anymore. But Nick was her temporary business partner, and she’d be a fool to even think of him in any other light

He’d only be here for six weeks, tops, then he’d be heading back out West Or maybe he’d be gone a lot sooner. For all she knew, he might be out of here ten minutes after she told him about the problem with Attila.

She followed him outside and they sat on the porch in silence for a minute—until one of the cats stalked by to check out the company.

“His name’s Blue, and he’s been in quite a few commercials,” she offered. “That’s mostly what Wild Action has done until now. Commercials, some work for television, the occasional documentary and one Canadian feature film that opened and closed the same week. I don’t think they even bothered making it into a video.”

“So Two for Trouble really is your…our big chance.”

She nodded, aware that this was the perfect time to speak up—while he was contemplating how important the movie was to them. All she had to do was think of the right words.

When Carly lapsed into silence, Nick sat casually looking in her direction and not letting himself stare at her long, tanned legs. It was tough not to, though. They were such great legs they’d stop traffic if she ever walked down a city street in those shorts. And as for that little sleeveless blouse…

Earlier, she’d looked the picture of innocence. And she even smelled innocent—like prairie wildflowers. But in that outfit she looked sexy as hell. And it had him imagining all sorts of things that had nothing even remotely to do with their business partnership.

Shifting his gaze from her, he told himself he’d have to be careful while he was here. She had an easy manner he found appealing. And when you added that to the way she looked…Well, he’d just better watch himself.

He’d had his share of relationships with women, but none of them had ever felt as if they might last forever. And he sure didn’t want to find himself in one that did feel right when the time and place were entirely wrong.

His life plans didn’t include either animal actors or rural Ontario. All he wanted was enough money to go back home to Edmonton and set up his agency.

“Nick?”

When he glanced at Carly again there was a tiny drop of perspiration on her throat, trickling ever so slowly toward the V of her neckline. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep from following it with his eyes.

Finally, it disappeared beneath her blouse, but by then he was following it with his imagination.

“Nick, there’s something we have to talk about.”

He looked up quickly, feeling like the proverbial kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“We have a bit of a problem with Attila.”

Aha! His imagination instantly shut down and he switched into cop alert. He’d known there was something she’d been holding back about that bear, and her expression told him it was more than a bit of a problem.

“Did I mention that he’s the star of Two for Trouble? The animal star, I mean?”

“No, I think you just said he was in it.”

“Oh. Well, he is. The star, I mean.”

Nick waited for her to go on, doing his best to hide his annoyance. But he’d bet that she’d been intentionally avoiding talking about the bear—that she’d been waiting until she got her newfound partner out here, away from civilization, before she hit him with whatever this problem was.

“You see,” she finally continued, “the boys’ encounter with Attila is a really pivotal scene in the movie. And there’ll be a lot of earlier shots of him— foreshadowing the encounter.”

“I see. And the problem is…?” he asked, bringing her back to the important issue.

“Well, Attila hasn’t been himself lately. I know he misses Gus, but from our point of view…The problem is that he’s taken to only doing what I tell him when he feels like it.”

“Because he’s in mourning? That’s bear behavior?”

“Well, I’m sure missing Gus is at least part of it.”

Nick uneasily thought back to something she’d told him in Brown’s office—that if Jay Wall wasn’t pleased with their animals, the agency’s name would be mud.

“If missing Gus is only part of the problem,” he said, picking up on her last words, “what’s the other part?”

“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.”

With that, she slowly walked over to the bear and scratched him behind the ear.

“You still okay?” she asked, looking at Nick once more.

“Sure,” he said. In truth, of course, he was as far from okay as he could ever remember being. He couldn’t keep his eyes off those claws, and he couldn’t stop thinking a scratch from them would make one of Blackie’s feel like a pinprick.

Carly rubbed the bear’s nose for a minute, then said, “Attila, that’s Nick over there. I want you to go and say hello to him. Two feet.”

The bear glared over again. Then he pushed himself up onto his hind feet—sending a rush of utter terror through Nick. Standing up, he looked like an enormous sumo wrestler in a fur coat.

“Good boy,” Carly said. “Now go say hello.”

Attila gave a little snort and started toward Nick, stopping a couple of feet away. Nick stood stock-still, even though the urge to run was almost overwhelming. In his cowboy boots, he was well over six feet tall, but the bear’s eyes were level with his. And it was so close he could smell its earthy scent and hear it breathing.

“Nick?” Carly whispered. “Say hello to him.”

He swallowed hard. “Hello, Attila.”

The bear eyed him for another second, then took a final step forward, wrapped its arms around him and began squeezing him to death.

CHAPTER THREE

Boys Will Be Boys

“CARLY, I can’t breathe!”

She was so thrilled to see that Attila liked Nick, his words didn’t register for a second. Then she realized Attila was getting carried away with his bear hug.

“Attila, enough,” she said. When he didn’t stop, she felt a flutter of concern. An enthusiastic bear was hardly the same as an enthusiastic puppy. “You tell him, Nick,” she quickly suggested. “Enough is the command, and be firm.”

“Enough,” he said, sounding more strangled than firm.

Miraculously, Attila grunted and backed off. Dropping to all fours, he began snuffling the leg of Nick’s jeans.

Carly almost jumped for joy. If Attila was going to listen to Nick, things just might work out.

“He obeyed you!” she said excitedly.

“Obeyed me? He practically killed me!”

“No he didn’t. He was being friendly.” And she was so relieved. She hadn’t told Nick about the phone call, because she hadn’t wanted him feeling even more stressed when he met Attila, but now she could.

Before she had a chance, though, he took a backward step and said, “Listen, if that’s his way of being friendly, I sure as hell don’t want to be near him when he’s being grouchy. This isn’t going to work, Carly. We’ve got to figure out some way of making him listen to you better.”

“Give him his chicken.”

“What?”

She pointed at the pail. “Give him his chicken or he will be grouchy.”

Nick grabbed the pail, then turned back toward her. “I just put it down in front of him?”

“You could. But if you feed him by hand, it’ll help the two of you bond.”

“Bond? Did you go deaf in the past minute? I said this isn’t going to work. I’m not…comfortable close to this animal. You’re going to have to handle him.”

“Nick, do you want Jay Wall to be happy with us or not?”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want to work with a bear.”

“Well, it could take months to figure out how to get him to listen to me better. And the chemistry’s obviously right between you two.”

“No. It was right between him and Gus. I’m wearing Gus’s clothes, remember, so it’s his scent on them—his chemistry. And what happens after they get washed?”

“Well, maybe there are enough of his things to last through the filming.”

“Not a chance. His closet’s practically empty. And after I wear something once or twice, there’ll be more of my scent on it than Gus’s. How will Attila take to that?”

Carly told herself he’d be okay with it, but she knew it might be a problem.

“Maybe the scent’s not really important,” she said hopefully. “Maybe it’s your deep voice Attila responded to. I mean, he did what you told him even though you didn’t sound very authoritative.”

“What do you mean I didn’t sound authoritative? I’ve been trained to sound authoritative. And the bear listened, didn’t he?”