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Pride felt his eyes mist, and he jumped up and bustled to
the stove, getting them more coffee before he broke, put his
head down and wept right there in his flapjacks. Home. Up
until Pride had met Bear, home had been a dirty word that
Pride had uttered like a curse. Home had meant pain and
loss, hate and lonely silence. Now, in the space of a few
months, it had changed into somewhere Pride would fight
tooth and nail to be.
As Pride watched, Bear padded naked into the alcove,
searching for his woolens at the foot of the bed where they'd
been thrown the night before. He realized that it didn't matter
to him whether Bear wanted to travel to California, New York,
or Katmandu. Pride would be right there with him, dogging
his footsteps because Bear had changed the meaning of
another word for Pride.
Friend.
Since that night in the barn when he'd been fourteen, Pride
had known men, had fucked them from time to time, had
watched them die alongside him in battle, had ridden long
hours with them on the ranch, but he'd never been friends
with any of them. Friendship, Pride had learned at an early
age, brought pain.
Not Bear's friendship. Oh, it wasn't always pretty, and that
was a fact. They argued, like friends do from time to time.
Won some, lost some, pouted and stormed some, but in the
end they were still always friends.
198
In Bear Country
by Kiernan Kelly
He smiled when Bear straightened up, triumphantly
clutching his long johns in his hand. Yeah, Pride loved that big
ol' ox. He picked up his coffee cup, watching Bear over the
rim and thinking about how funny life worked out sometimes.
How unexpected twists and turns in the path a man walked
brought him to places he'd never have gone otherwise.
Ain't that always the way.
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