Книга - The Defender

The Defender
Lindsay McKenna


Two wounded souls in the Wild West. One last chance to claim the love they deserve.... After escaping her troubled past, all Katie Bergstrom wants is to put down roots on her raptor rehabilitation facility outside Jackson Hole. She doesn't count on reconnecting with her estranged birth mother - or the recent appearance of a sexy ranch hand. Former marine Joe Gannon is used to a life of risk. Working on the ranch, life is simpler...except for the undercover work he's been asked to do. Getting too close to Katie could damage his current operation. Yet despite his orders to remain suspicious, he knows she's innocent - and in danger. As he does everything he can to protect her, Katie can't help but fall for him. But after a lifetime of betrayal, is this too-secretive, too-seductive rancher someone she can trust?










Two wounded souls in the Wild West. One last chance to claim the love they deserve.

After escaping her troubled past, all Katie Bergstrom wants is to put down roots on her raptor rehabilitation facility outside Jackson Hole. She doesn’t count on reconnecting with her estranged birth mother—or the recent appearance of a sexy ranch hand.

Former marine Joe Gannon is used to a life of risk. Working on the ranch, life is simpler...except for the undercover work he’s been asked to do. Getting too close to Katie could damage his current operation. Yet despite his orders to remain suspicious, he knows she’s innocent—and in danger. As he does everything he can to protect her, Katie can’t help but fall for him. But after a lifetime of betrayal, is this too-secretive, too-seductive rancher someone she can trust?


Praise for

LINDSAY McKENNA

“McKenna skillfully shows that it’s all about the romance and not only the sex. After all, hard work, honesty and trust is what western romance is all about.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Wrangler

“McKenna’s latest is an intriguing tale...a unique twist

on the romance novel, and one that’s sure to please.”

—RT Book Reviews on Dangerous Prey

“Riveting.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Quest

“An absorbing debut for the Nocturne line.”

—RT Book Reviews on Unforgiven

“Gunfire, emotions, suspense, tension and sexuality abound in this fast-paced, absorbing novel.”

—Affaire de Coeur on Wild Woman

“Another masterpiece.”

—Affaire de Coeur on Enemy Mine

“Emotionally charged...riveting and deeply touching.”

—RT Book Reviews on Firstborn

“Ms. McKenna brings readers along for a fabulous odyssey in which complex characters experience the danger,

passion and beauty of the mystical jungle.”

—RT Book Reviews on Man of Passion

“Talented Lindsay McKenna delivers excitement and romance in equal measure.”

—RT Book Reviews on Protecting His Own

“Lindsay McKenna will have you flying with the

daring and deadly women pilots who risk their lives....

Buckle in for the ride of your life.”

—Writers Unlimited on Heart of Stone


The Defender

Lindsay McKenna




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To Donna Hayes, Publisher and CEO, Harlequin,

for her passion in helping save the endangered Peregrine Falcons of Canada. Quest and Kendal could never have a better auntie than you! These raptors have a real champion and the world is a better place for people such as yourself who support our threatened wildlife. Thank you. For the whole story of how Donna got involved with these Peregrine Falcons, just go to http://harlequinblog.com/topics/company-news (http://harlequinblog.com/topics/company-news).

To professional wildlife photographer Ann Brokelman, who not only helps the world see Peregrines, a species

at risk in Canada, but freely gives of her time and passion to the Canadian Peregrine Foundation. And who also takes time to help amateur photogs like me

get better at photographing wildlife. To appreciate Ann’s incredible photography, please visit her blog: www.naturephotosbyann.blogspot.c (http://www.naturephotosbyann.blogspot.com)a.

To the Canadian Peregrine Foundation, who has worked with heart and soul to rescue the beautiful Peregrine Falcon from the edge of extinction in their country. It is all volunteer work and volunteer contributions. They serve as wonderful role models of what we can do in our country to halt the death of so many raptors from pesticides used by agriculture. Visit their website:

www.peregrine-foundation.ca (http://www.peregrine-foundation.ca).


Dear Reader,

The Defender is a story within a story. Yes, it is part of the Wyoming series and continues my tradition of danger, romance and suspense. Here is the “other” story: over a year ago, I received an email from Harlequin corporate headquarters. Donna Hayes, Publisher and Chief Executive Officer of Harlequin, had spotted a pair of Peregrine Falcons who were about to nest on a building across the street. Amazed, I read the missive. The Peregrine has been driven to the edge of extinction by DDT and other harmful pesticides used by farmers in Canada and the United States.

As I read the email, I wanted to let Donna know that I, too, was involved in supporting and donating to High Country Raptors, Flagstaff, Arizona, USA. I sent her a YouTube link. My good friend Monica Amarillis had taken her cell phone and recorded me with Luna, a European eagle owl. You can see the videos on YouTube; search for “Eileen and Luna” and “The owl Luna catches a mouse.” The raptors you will see are birds cared for by Susan Hamilton, falconer, of High Country Raptors, who also holds an eagle license.

After Donna saw the videos, she sent me an email telling me I had to connect with Ann Brokelman, a professional wildlife photographer. I did, and the rest is history! Because we all support not only with time, but donations to the volunteers who care for raptors, we have a wonderful, ongoing triangular connection in this incredibly magical realm of birds. Raptors do change your life. I know that for a fact. And always for the better!

For those readers who are avidly waiting for my next book in the Wyoming series, I wanted to get more deeply into another passion of mine: romantic suspense! If you enjoy action, adventure, threat, hot romance coupled with danger, you’ll enjoy The Defender. Katie Bergstrom is a twenty-six-year-old raptor rehabilitator who tries to help wounded and injured raptors back to health in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. She was abandoned at birth by her mother. Rebelling, lost and always trying to find her mother, Katie goes through many foster homes and gets into teen trouble. She eventually winds up in Jackson Hole, where her luck changes and she’s given a new lease on life. Raptors, with their own unique magic, focus her life and give her reason to thrive, despite her dark, unhappy past.

Joe Gannon, born in Jackson Hole, is a Marine Corps captain who was wounded in Afghanistan. He comes back stateside only to find out he can never fight for his country again. The FBI offers him a job. He has been specially chosen to return home to try to get close to Katie. Her birth mother, Janet Bergstrom, is suspected of criminal activity. Can he lie to Katie? Is Katie really a part of her mother’s illegal activities? Most of all, Joe finds himself caught in an impossible situation because he must fight his attraction to Katie and remain undercover to discover the truth. Where do lies and truth begin and end? Can their growing love survive?

Enjoy!

Lindsay McKenna


Contents

CHAPTER ONE (#ua3f13d47-69a7-5985-9931-d6e27476800b)

CHAPTER TWO (#u0a3012bf-eae5-58da-a64d-e300e5e5bf6b)

CHAPTER THREE (#u272934b5-4e40-5278-bee7-42633577df7b)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u1e0929c8-03e2-5e13-919c-e6dde8a5f9e8)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u457d0dd2-813d-5a0a-baf3-ddcc944ccfbc)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE

SUNLIGHT BATHED the golden eagle’s half-opened wings, making them appear to be liquid bronze. Katie Bergstrom steadied the sixteen-pound bird on her leather gauntlet, facing him into the cool mid-morning breeze. She stood on the grassy floor of a wide valley, the magnificent Teton Range nearby. The sky was a fierce cobalt blue, the sun glaring at the snowy slopes.

Katie felt Sam’s eagerness to fly, his round yellow eyes transfixed on the sky above. He loved getting out of his mew, or cage, and flying the familiar territory near the main highway leading out of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Giving him a smile, Katie said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Just one more moment, Sam...” and spotted Donna, her foster mother, standing a quarter mile away. Her mother held up her hand, a signal for Katie to go ahead and release the raptor.

Every morning, except on days when it was raining or snowing, her educational raptor was flown. These were raptors with a medical condition that did not allow them to be set free in the wild. Golden eagles were large, and Katie could feel the weight of the bird. Her arm started to ache. His curved talons gripped the thick leather of her glove. Sam’s black pupils became pinpricks in the field of gold. He flapped his wings, opening them fully, ready to launch off her arm.

Katie didn’t know who looked forward to these flights more: her or Sam. “Okay,” she said in a quiet tone, “off you go....” and she heaved her arm and shoulder upward and forward in order to successfully launch the raptor.

Sam knew her body’s signal. He quickly unfurled his massive seven-foot wingspan. With a snap of his wings, he lifted away from her glove, piercing eyes focused on the sky above.

Katie felt instant relief from his weight. Gusts of wind created by Sam’s massive wings swirled around her head. Her shoulder-length black hair, tied into a ponytail, lifted momentarily away from her back. The wind buffeted her and her heart swelled with joy as Sam climbed into the sky. The five-year-old golden eagle made powerful sweeping motions with his wings. The sun glinted off his dark brown feathers. Remembering her love of Greek mythology, Katie saw Sam as a modern-day Icarus heading straight into the sun. Unlike the Greek youth, whose waxy wings were unable to withstand the heat of the sun, Sam’s feathers wouldn’t melt. And the eagle wouldn’t fall to earth and die, as Icarus had.

Looking across the grassy, rolling field, she saw Donna witnessing Sam’s power-climb into the near-freezing morning air. Like herself, Donna had an eagle license, a very rare certificate given to raptor rehabilitators across the U.S.A. Only falconers who had this valued license could actually fly any type of eagle found in the country. Katie waved joyfully to the forty-nine-year-old redhead who stood downrange. Donna waved back.

A thrill went through Katie. She felt the weight on her shoulders lift as Sam climbed higher and higher. Eagles were known to fly over ten thousand feet high in the wild. Sam wouldn’t do that because he knew Donna had a juicy meat morsel waiting for him on the top of her gauntlet.

A gentle sigh issued from Katie’s lips. This was her favorite morning routine: flying her raptors. Not all of them could fly, of course, because they’d been injured in one way or another. But those that could, she flew daily unless the weather hampered her efforts. Squinting against the sun, she saw Sam level off at about five thousand feet. He began to glide as he discovered invisible columns of heat rising from the green earth. Early June could bring sudden snow squalls to this part of Wyoming. The Grand Tetons made their own weather and raptors would not fly in rain or snow. They had no eyelid to close in order to protect their eyes from the harsh elements. Instead, until the weather cleared enough for them to hunt, they were earthbound.

The radio on her belt sputtered to life. It was a necessary form of communication between falconers who were often a mile or more apart when flying a raptor.

“Sam’s flying high today,” Donna said with a laugh.

Grinning, Katie pulled the radio from her belt. “Isn’t he, though? I think three days of rain and snow has left him feeling a little frustrated in his mew.”

Donna chuckled. “Oh, I agree. He might be hungry, but right now, he’s sailing and just enjoying being out in the embrace of his real mother—the sky.”

“He’s got excess testosterone to burn off, too. Grounded for three days because of rain has made him antsy to get back into the air.”

“Isn’t that the truth!” Donna said, humor in her tone. “Let me know when to put the food out on my glove.”

“I will. Out.” Katie fixed the radio back onto her belt. Sam now flew around in a huge circle at least a mile in circumference above her. His path took him across the main highway leading south into Jackson Hole and north toward Grand Teton National Park. Several cars were now parked along the major road between the town and the two national parks—Grand Teton and Yellowstone—to watch the eagle fly. A number of raptor-loving locals knew she and Donna flew the raptors inside the elk enclosure between June and August. The enclosure was fairly flat and safe. As people drove up the hill and spotted a magnificent eagle or hawk flying, they would pull over and watch them through binoculars. Right now, Katie saw three cars parked on the berm, the people standing near the ten-foot-high wire elk fence, simply watching and appreciating the raptor.

She understood their joy. Sam was the largest eagle in the United States. When he unfolded and stretched those bronze wings, all seven feet of them, it was an awe-inspiring sight. A good feeling moved through Katie. She was glad the people of Jackson Hole loved raptors, supported them through donations and came to watch them be flown.

Up above, Sam continued to fly in a one-mile circle. He wore a radio antenna placed on the quill shaft of one of his tail feathers. Should Sam get lost or not come in to be fed, Katie could use the radio to locate his whereabouts. At this distance, Katie couldn’t see the short kangaroo-leather jesses wrapped around his thick yellow legs. One never flew a raptor with long jesses trailing because they could get entangled in a tree branch and trap the raptor. Short jesses insured Sam could safely land and take off from a tree branch without breaking his leg or wing in the effort.

Glancing toward the highway, Katie noticed a dark green car pulling off and park behind the other three cars. Usually, she recognized the people who stopped because they had come to her educational seminars about raptors in town. Over time, she’d gotten to know her raptors’ supporters. But the man emerging from the green car, although half a mile away, didn’t look like someone she knew. He walked over to the fence near the other spectators. Like them, he had a pair of binoculars in hand. That wasn’t unusual at all. People who loved raptors always had a pair. It was the only way to appreciate the birds up close.

Katie looked up. Sam was wheeling above them, his circles growing a bit smaller.

“Looks like he’s got most of his steam burned off,” Donna called over the radio.

Pulling the radio to her lips, Katie said, “I think so, too. Now, he’s decided he’s hungry. When Sam starts making these smaller circles, he’s ready to come in and get fed.”

“Roger. Maybe another ten minutes?”

“Probably.” Katie watched the eagle slide upward on an updraft, his wings spread. Beneath each wing were two white patches known as stars. They looked like Xs to the observer on the ground. The Native Americans referred to the golden eagles as spotted eagles and said the white stars symbolized the Milky Way from whence they had originally come. Katie loved the myths and legends about the golden eagle. The Native Americans revered the eagle and it was often at the center of their sacred medicine ceremonies. A golden eagle was seen as the symbol of the east. In the old days, eagle feathers were believed to bring a person closer to the Great Spirit. Because it flew the highest of all birds, feathers from an eagle were closest to the Great Spirit. The feathers carried the messages back to the human who wore them.

“Okay, I’m going to get Sam’s food ready.”

“Roger that.” Katie tucked the radio into her belt, her gaze following the eagle. He was now flying lower and was purposely swinging over the highway where the people were watching him with rapt attention.

Something bothered Katie. It was a prickle of warning, the raising of hair on the back of her neck. What was she sensing? She turned toward the fence, feeling as if someone were watching her and not the eagle. All four people had binoculars. Three of them were lifted toward the sky. But the stranger who had arrived in the dark green car had his binoculars trained on her.

Katie knew people were curious about falconers, too. Perhaps it was their rather odd costume. Katie had a thick leather gauntlet fitted up to her elbow. When an eagle landed, he would dig his long, curved talons deeply into the material to halt his forward motion. The double-thick leather took the power of his grip without puncturing the falconer’s lower arm. A tan canvas satchel hung diagonally across her upper body, the pouch hanging near her right hip. In it was raw rabbit meat to reward Sam for flying back to her. Taking off her black baseball cap, Katie smoothed some strands of her hair away from her eyes. As she settled the cap back on her head, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It made no sense, so she ignored it, focusing instead on Sam’s flight.

* * *

FBI AGENT JOE GANNON STUDIED Katie Bergstrom through his binoculars. He was glad there were three other people at the elk fence beside him. They were murmuring excitedly between themselves as the golden eagle swooped overhead. Joe was much more interested in the woman. Something odd happened to him as he continued to study Katie Bergstrom’s profile: his heart expanded in his chest. What an unexpected sensation.

Removing the binoculars, Joe wondered what the hell was going on. He touched his brown leather bomber jacket, feeling a strange emotion: happiness. How odd. Since Zoe had divorced him while he was on his second tour as a Marine Corps captain in Afghanistan, women had left a very bad taste in his mouth. Oh, he liked to look at them. And right now, Katie Bergstrom was certainly worth his attention, but that wasn’t why he’d been sent here by his boss in Washington, D.C. Rubbing his chest, Joe tried to will away the unfamiliar joy in his heart.

He hadn’t felt this lightness since well before he and Zoe had had their problems. Then his ex-wife’s lawyer had sent the divorce papers to him at his unit in Helmand Province in Afghanistan. Joe still remembered that traumatic morning mail call. Zoe hadn’t said a word about divorce in their Skype calls to one another. The topic had never been brought up for discussion. Her ending the marriage had been a total shock. He didn’t dare go through that again.

Scowling, Joe tried to shove away his divorce memories. He had a job to do here in Jackson Hole. He lifted the binoculars to his eyes and concentrated on Katie. She was definitely attractive. Standing five feet six inches tall, she was slender and all grace. Her black hair was drawn back in a ponytail, giving Joe a chance to see her clean profile. Her brow was broad, her nose reminded him of a statue of a Greek goddess. And those full lips would haunt him. Oh, he had photos of Katie, for sure, but seeing her in person made a different and far more powerful impression upon him.

Joe was stymied by his surprising emotional reaction to her. When his boss gave him her file, he’d stressed that Katie was likely part of a large drug-and-gun ring just starting to set up in this part of Wyoming. At the time, Joe had felt nothing. Seeing her in person, however, he discovered he was very much affected. Why now? Why her?

Mouth lifting, Joe figured it was because he’d sworn off women since the divorce. Zoe had married him just before he’d left for his first tour in Afghanistan, and he’d been gone a year. He’d missed her terribly. Zoe had had a tough time adjusting to becoming a military wife. There had been little Joe could do about it except listen during their conversations and tell Zoe he loved her. It hadn’t been enough.

A shout from the man standing next to him jolted Joe out of his reverie. He watched the golden eagle flying in smaller, ever-tightening circles. The two women falconers stood at least a quarter of a mile apart. Joe knew from his own ongoing falconry training in Washington, D.C., that the raptor was getting ready to come in and land. He didn’t care about the eagle landing as much as the opportunity to check out Katie. Training his gaze on her, Joe saw her smiling and talking into the radio to the woman who was likely her foster mother.

Then a warm sheet of heat moved through his heart. When Katie smiled, her whole face lit up with an incredible joy. For a moment, she turned toward him as the eagle flew low over her. His breath hitched. My God, how pretty she was! Her blue eyes, large and wide-set, shone with excitement. He understood to a degree her pure pleasure in watching the magnificent eagle fly. He’d felt the same way when Eddie, a falconer, had trained him back in D.C. There was a palpable bond between falconer and raptor. It was a living, vibrant connection and he saw it in Katie’s eyes.

His gaze dropped to her curved lips. Joe felt his heart expanding in his chest, just a quiet goodness rippling through him. Right now, he had to ignore its significance. But how to ignore Katie Bergstrom’s beautiful lips? Her face was oval and she wore no makeup. She didn’t have to, Joe thought. At twenty-six, she was clearly in athletic shape. The flash of her smile momentarily stole his breath. Joe had never witnessed such a glow of happiness on anyone’s face. “Raptor magic,” as it was called by falconers, could bring almost saint-like elation to a person’s face. Joe knew that firsthand from his own falconry training. And he was seeing it in spades on Katie’s upturned face.

Something niggled at Joe. He couldn’t forget the facts in this case. For years, the FBI had been following Janet Bergstrom, Katie’s estranged mother who had given her up at birth. Janet was working with a new Guatemalan drug-and-gun cartel trying to establish a base here in Jackson Hole. Shortly after she had abandoned her child at birth, Janet had fled to Guatemala to connect with Xavier Lobos, the cartel leader. For many years, the FBI had focused on her as a mule running drugs across the Mexican border into the U.S. Another FBI agent had finally nabbed Janet. She’d been caught with a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of cocaine in her car at a border crossing. She was convicted and spent seven years in a federal prison.

How was her daughter connected with all this? Joe wondered. He shifted his focus to the golden eagle now flying in even tighter and tighter circles above Donna Pierce’s head. Joe had done his homework before coming out here on the mission. He knew all about Katie, what she did for a living and that she’d recently moved her raptor facility onto the Elk Horn Ranch, a dude ranch owned by Iris Mason. Katie always had trouble finding people to help her at the expanded raptor-rehabilitation center. Taking care of raptors was a full-time job and Katie didn’t get paid by the state to do it. She did it out of her love for these birds of prey. While that was admirable, the FBI felt that, out of necessity, Katie was a part of Los Lobos. But they weren’t sure.

According to the latest reports, Janet Bergstrom had driven out twice to the gate leading to the Elk Horn Ranch. Satellite flyovers hadn’t found actual proof she’d met with her daughter. Now it was Joe’s job to prove Katie and her mother had met. His boss at the FBI felt Katie had gotten mixed up in her mother’s drug-running operation.

Joe found their suspicions difficult to believe. Katie had the face of an innocent. His boss had warned him many times that just because a woman had a pretty face didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of skullduggery. Still...Joe would follow his instincts and keep an open mind. His heart was another matter.

* * *

KATIE WATCHED SAM set up for a landing. Donna lifted her arm high. The golden eagle knew that when a falconer raised her glove, it was a signal for him to land and eat. Sam performed a swift ninety-degree turn, one wing pointed at the ground, the other above his head, his eyes on the prize of rabbit meat sitting on the glove. As he wheeled, he straightened out, flapping his huge wings in urgent backward motions to slow his descending speed. Legs outstretched, his talons open, he landed on Donna’s glove. Sam’s curved talons bit into the thick leather and he dipped his head. He scooped up his breakfast of rabbit with his scimitar-shaped beak. His wings continued to beat as he steadied and balanced himself on the falconer’s glove. Finally, Sam folded his wings, gobbling down more rabbit.

Katie grinned as she saw Sam land on Donna’s glove. Her foster mother had taught her everything she knew about falconry. Not only that, Donna had helped her get the rare and vaunted eagle license so she could care for wounded or injured eagles found in the Jackson Hole area. Some sheep-ranchers shot them because during lambing season, the golden eagles would steal newborn lambs. It was against the law to shoot raptors in Wyoming, but it didn’t stop a sheep-rancher from killing one of these magnificent and badly needed eagles. A sudden sadness moved through her as she remembered that Sam had been one of those eagles nearly killed by a shotgun-wielding sheepherder.

Katie walked toward Donna, recalling a year ago when Sam had been brought into her center. At the time, she’d had her mews behind her rented apartment. She’d just received her eagle license. Sam had managed to fly with fifteen shotgun pellets embedded in his left wing. A kind driver on the road had seen him wobble and land unceremoniously on the muddy berm next to the busy highway. He’d picked up the injured, bleeding eagle and taken it to a vet in town. Later, Katie had received a call from that vet. Could she take the eagle after surgery and nurse it back to health? Sam was her first eagle. And because of the cracks in the bones of his wing, he could never be released back to the wild. If he was released, the knitted bones would never stand the shocking force of striking prey. The bones would shatter and the eagle would eventually die of starvation. So Sam had become an educational bird, teaching children and adults the benefits of raptors in the environment. Katie would care for Sam for the rest of his life.

There was another reason to be sad. Her foster mother and falconry teacher would be moving away in another two weeks to take care of her own ailing mother in Idaho Falls, Idaho. Katie was losing a great friend, too. Soon, Katie would be all by herself again.

Donna had placed the long jesses around Sam’s thick yellow legs and wrapped the ends through the fingers of her glove. That way, if the eagle suddenly bolted, Donna could keep the eagle in hand.

“Hey, he made a great landing today, didn’t he?” Donna said, grazing Sam’s dark brown feathers across his wide chest.

“No kidding,” Katie said. “Better than the last time we flew him, huh?” Sometimes Sam would misjudge the speed of his descent to the falconer’s glove. Four days ago, Donna had released him and, after flying for a while, he was to land on Katie’s glove for his morning breakfast of rabbit. Sam, in his exuberance, had overshot her outstretched glove. He’d grabbed at the glove with his huge talons, lost his balance and flapped into Katie’s face. To be struck by a huge wing in forward motion could cause instant pain, not to mention injury. It was like being slapped in the face. Hard. Katie had closed her eyes, fortunately, and had turned her head away to protect her sight.

She’d stood firm and quiet, which allowed Sam to flap his wings around her face in order to regain his equilibrium. He was no worse for wear, but Katie still bore a shallow cut across her temple from the incident. She’d gone into the emergency room afterward and Dr. Jordana McPherson had put in three stitches. Jordana had assured her there would be no lasting scar. It wasn’t unusual to have scars on one’s face or upper arms from an eagle. It was just part of the business of caring for these magnificent animals. Katie was more than willing to take the risk because they gave her a sense of freedom she never felt otherwise. A cut every now and then was a price worth paying.

“You can’t even see where the doctor sewed you up,” Donna said, giving Sam a look of pride. “I think after being cooped up for three days, he had extra energy to burn off.”

Chuckling, Katie walked with Donna toward her black truck. “Yeah, he’s full of himself for sure.”

Donna held out her right arm covered with a bright red cotton sleeve. “I’ve shown you my battle scars.”

“And I hope I never get the kind you have.”

Donna had, at one time, worked with a golden eagle who was eventually returned to the wild. One day, another falconer had accidentally left the cage door unlocked and the eagle had escaped his mew after being startled by a nearby truck backfiring. He’d launched off his perch and flown out the door, frightened and disoriented. Seeing Donna, who had nursed him for three months and who represented safety to him, he’d immediately flown over to her. Only, she’d had no protective gauntlet on her lower arm to save her from the puncture wounds the eagle inflicted. To this day, when Donna rolled up her sleeves, Katie could see the puncture indentations left by the eagle’s talons.

Donna balanced Sam easily on her left glove. The eagle was sated, looking around with his piercing yellow gaze. She touched his breast. “Crop’s full. He’s a happy raptor.”

Katie could see the slight bulge where Sam’s crop lay beneath the shining bronze feathers of his wide upper breast. “Yep, if he could smile, he would.”

They both chuckled.

Once they reached the pickup, Katie unlocked the rear and opened up the cab. She had a special perch built on a swing arm for the eagle. The wood was thick and sturdy, covered with plastic outdoor carpeting. The material enabled the raptor to hold securely to the perch so he would not slip off. Katie locked the perch in place and moved to the side of the truck bed.

Donna placed her glove near the perch and tapped her fingers on it. Sam quickly hopped from her glove to the perch. Releasing the jesses so that they were no longer wrapped around her glove, Donna murmured, “Okay, I think he’s ready to go home.”

Katie gently closed the door to the cab. Eagles were so large they couldn’t fit inside a bird box to travel. Special considerations had to be made for these raptors due to their size and weight. The women removed their food pouches and placed them behind the seats. Katie climbed in, shut the door and slid the key into the ignition.

Donna closed her door and pulled on her seat belt. “That was a great flight this morning! Sam really flew high and wide. I really think despite some of his wing bones being fractured, he’s getting stronger with age and maturity.”

“I think so too, but you have more experience with eagles than I do.” Katie slowly moved the truck to a flat, smooth dirt road that would lead them out of the elk enclosure. Soon, they would be on the highway, heading north toward the Elk Horn Ranch.

“You have two years of experience under your belt,” Donna said with a smile. “I’m really going to miss working with you, Katie. I know this area is in good hands when I leave. You’ll do fine.”

“I know, Donna, but I’ll miss you on so many levels. I finally put an ad in the newspaper for a full-time falconer. I can’t rely on volunteers to come and help me fly the raptors every morning.” Katie glanced over at the tall, attractive woman who had been the best of the many foster mothers she’d had. “But I know your mom needs you now.”

The older woman patted Katie’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m only a phone call or email away. We’ll stay in close touch, I promise.” Her mouth curved gently and her voice lowered. “Katie, you’ve matured into a lovely young woman. I don’t want to leave either, but parental duties hit all of us sooner or later. You’re now the falconer for this area. And if you run into something you don’t know, call me?”

Halting the truck at the stop sign, Katie looked both ways. The highway was clear of cars. “I know, but you not only rescued me from screwing up the rest of my life, you taught me how to become a raptor rehabilitator, Donna. I feel in some ways, you’re the mother I never had.”

Donna’s smile dissolved. She kept her hand on Katie’s shoulder for a moment. “Well, let me tell you this, Katie girl. Your mother gave you up at birth and I know you’ve never met her. I know you want to and I hope, for your sake, you do find her. In the end, you have me, and I love you very much. I won’t abandon you, Katie. That’s a promise.”

Donna’s lowered voice moved through Katie. She dearly loved her raptor mentor. And in so many ways, over the last ten years, Donna had, indeed, saved her life. “You’re my mother incognito,” she teased, her voice hoarse. Fighting back sudden and unexpected tears, Katie kept her eyes on the road. “And I don’t care what you say, you’ve been more of a mother to me than my biological mother ever was.”

Gently, Donna rubbed her shoulder, trying to ease the pain she heard in Katie’s voice. “I know. I remember when the state social worker called me in desperation. You were acting out, you were rebellious. She begged me to be your foster mom. She thought working with the raptors might help stabilize you.” Donna removed her hand, her voice wispy. “I remember the first morning you showed up. You were always skipping out of school, always in trouble with your teachers and the principal. You had dyed your hair red and yellow. You came into my raptor facility with a chip on your shoulder. All I had to do was ask you to put on the glove and a miracle happened.”

After giving Donna a warm glance, Katie concentrated on driving up the long hill. “I was snotty to you at first. You ignored my antics and brought out Fred, your red-tailed hawk, and put him on my glove.” Fred had died several years later, but he’d been a wonderful training raptor for Katie.

“Yes, and your attitude melted away.”

Shaking her head, Katie said in a softened tone, “You saved my life, Donna. When Fred perched on my glove and looked at me, I felt my heart blow open like an explosion. I felt Fred. Feeling his energy changed me forever.”

“Raptors are miraculous,” Donna agreed. “That’s why I was happy you bonded with Fred. In days, you turned from a rebellious teen into a beautiful young woman. All thanks to the birds.”

“And to you. Without your love and you training me to work with raptors, I don’t know how I might have ended up, Donna. I got a high-school diploma. Every other foster family I’d been in thought I’d always be a dropout.”

“Raptors are angels in disguise.” Donna smiled fondly. “They are earthly angels come to improve our lives and make us better human beings.”

Katie drove alertly, remaining within the speed limit. As they broached the hill, she saw the Teton Range rising out of the plain on her left. The mountains shone in the morning sunlight. Snow remained on their rugged blue-granite flanks. Her heart stayed centered on Donna. “We’ll never be out of touch,” Katie promised her. “Now, I have to hope a falconer will answer my ad to help me out full time.”

“I’m sure someone will answer it. We have a number of folks licensed around here. We’ll have to hope one of them wants a full-time job working with you. It’s lovely of Iris Mason not only to donate enough money to keep your raptors fed, but also to pay you to be a full-time employee of her ranch. She’s just the greatest.”

“Iris promised to build me a raptor facility if I would move out to her ranch. Now I have the room, the land and the money. Not many rehabilitators have a guardian angel like Iris in their life. I’m so grateful for all she does for us.”

“Iris is another angel,” Donna said. “Don’t worry, someone will apply for the job. I have a good feeling about it.”


CHAPTER TWO

JOE SAT ON A STOOL at the counter of Mo’s Ice Cream Parlor. It was his first day in town since arriving from Washington, D.C. His cover was solid. His parents owned a small ranch south of the town. With permission from his FBI boss, Joe was allowed to tell his parents the real reason for his return and they had been sworn to secrecy. Anyone noticing him in Jackson Hole would believe he was coming from the hospital after being released from the Marine Corps. Most folks around here would expect him to work with his father. No one would suspect him of being an undercover agent.

After watching the suspect, Katie Bergstrom, fly the golden eagle, he’d decided to grab breakfast at Mo’s. A newspaper, the Jackson Hole Gazette, had been on the counter and he’d picked it up. It was the easiest way to find out what was going on.

Mo’s was crammed with breakfast customers, the noise level sounding like bees buzzing. He’d accidentally turned to the classified ads and his gaze fell on the Help Wanted section. One ad shouted out to him. Was he reading it right? Joe blinked and reread the ad: “Falconer wanted for a full-time position. Apply by calling Katie Bergstrom.” Joe studied the ad. Was this kismet, one of those lucky breaks an FBI agent prays for, but never gets? There it was: a job opening with his suspect. Folding up the newspaper, Joe took a drink of his black coffee, and reviewed the details of the case.

His boss, Roger Hager, had gone over his mission objectives in Jackson Hole. Thanks to information from a local cowboy, Griff McPherson, the FBI was now focused on a man named Curt Downing. There was a possible break in this evolving drug-and-gunrunning case. McPherson and his brother Slade had been born here and owned the Tetons Ranch. Griff also worked at the Bar H and had married the owner, Valerie Hunter. Griff had met Janet Bergstrom by chance at the Horse Emporium in January. She was there to buy a dog collar for her husky, Karl. They’d talked and Janet had said she was on a visit to Jackson Hole to look at the possibility of creating a second courier business in the town. That was interesting news insofar as Roger was concerned. Janet already had a courier service established in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

A smiling blonde, blue-eyed waitress brought over a huge oval platter of pigs in blankets. Joe thanked her as she then handed him a pitcher of maple syrup. Cutting into the pancake-wrapped sausage, Joe continued to think his way through the developments in his assignment. When Janet got out of prison, she’d gone to Guatemala for two years. After coming home, she’d started a small business known as Mercury Courier and it became quite successful. However, the FBI agent in Guatemala suspected Bergstrom received seed money from the Los Lobos cartel. Furthermore, an agent had followed her on the flight to Guatemala and taken photos of her with cartel leader Xavier Lobos. The FBI had a growing amount of information on this aggressive man who focused on running drugs and guns. He was buying weapons and selling cocaine to Canada and the U.S.A.

Chewing his food, Joe watched the parlor’s clientele come and go. Mo’s was always a busy place. Some of the old-timers gave him a long look, as if trying to place his face. Joe had purposely been chosen for this mission because he’d been born in Jackson Hole. His parents, Connor and Lorna Gannon, ran a ranch and a landscape company. They’d given him the small house near the main ranch house for his stay. Roger felt it was perfect cover for Joe. He’d be a local boy come home and completely unsuspected by any cartel members who were trying to establish themselves in the area. Locals would never guess he was an agent. Rather, they’d see him as the wounded son returning home to heal and work with his parents.

“Hey...Joe Gannon? Is that you?”

Turning to his right, he looked into the eyes of Iris Mason, owner of the Elk Horn Ranch. Joe instantly recognized the matriarch. She wore a white blouse, Levi’s and scuffed boots, and her elk-skin purse hung from her left shoulder. Iris had silver hair that resembled a disturbed hen’s nest. She wore a jaunty straw hat over it. Grinning, Joe slid off the stool.

“Miss Iris! It’s good to see you!” Joe embraced the elder.

“You look good,” Iris said, stepping back and smiling up at him. “My, how you’ve grown, Joe! The last I heard, you were injured and at Bethesda Medical Center back East with a head injury.” Iris reached out and patted his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Sit down,” Joe invited, gesturing to the stool next to his. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” She was one of the most knowledgeable people in the valley and Joe felt luck was once more on his side. He could chat with Iris and learn a lot in a little time. Plus, Katie Bergstrom had her raptor facility at Iris’s ranch. Kismet had struck again.

“Thanks, Joe, I will.” Iris ordered a cup of coffee and a cheese omelet from the waitress. She turned and smiled over at him. “So, how are you?”

“Better than I was,” Joe said, lifting the cup to his lips. “I’m sure my mom and dad told you I was injured in Helmand Province in Afghanistan?”

“Yes. You know, Gwen Garner, who owns the quilting store, knows all.” She smiled. “Your mom is quite a quilter and she kept Gwen updated on your Marine Corps life.”

“After the second tour and getting a traumatic brain injury from an IED, I landed in Bethesda for six months, Miss Iris.” Joe touched the left side of his head. “I was riding in the rear of a Humvee when we drove over the damned thing.” His voice lowered with pain. “I was the only one to survive.”

“That’s so sad. Lorna called me right after she found out. They were heading out the door to Germany where you were taken for treatment.”

Joe knew his mother and Iris were good friends. Lorna Gannon had always looked to Iris as an extra grandmother in her life. Iris befriended everyone and she was one of the most-loved people in the valley. “I’m sure she was stressed out by the news,” he said.

“Yes, they were. I went over to see if I could help them pack.” Iris sighed and said in a softer voice, “We all prayed for you, Joe. It’s hard losing a child at any age. And thank goodness, our prayers were answered.”

“I was kind of happy about it, too.” He shared a warm smile with her.

Iris drank her coffee. “So, are you coming home? Griff McPherson came home after Wall Street crashed. Are you in the same predicament?”

“Sort of,” Joe hedged. He hated lying to Iris, but he had to in order to keep his cover. “I just got out of rehab in D.C. and was released from the Marine Corps because of my injury. I came home to help my father and learn his landscaping business. He’d always wanted me to take the ranch over someday and now seems like a good time.” Iris looked happy, her mouth drawing upward.

“Oh, good, good. I love when family can come together and be one. Nowadays, sisters and brothers and parents are thrown to the wind. No one lives at home or in the same town anymore. I know I’m from an older generation where that was the norm, but for the life of me, I truly feel a family should stick together.” She patted his broad shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re home, Joe.”

“I’m pretty happy about it too.”

The waitress delivered the food and Iris eagerly dug into her breakfast. Between bites, she asked, “So you’re going from being an officer in the Marine Corps to turning your talents to ranching? Your dad is very respected around here. I hired him a year ago to come in with his dozer and grader to smooth off a piece of land for me. I wanted Katie Bergstrom’s facility built on our ranch. She was struggling something awful. Raptor rehabilitators don’t get reimbursed for all the money, time and care they put into saving birds. I saw her give a talk to an assisted-living center a year ago. I was so impressed with Katie and her love of the raptors. She enthralled everyone in the room with her passion for them.”

Joe’s heart leaped as Iris brought up the woman who kept haunting his thoughts, his suspect. “My father told me you not only donated the land but you had a facility built for her raptors?”

“Yep, I sure did.” Iris twisted the lid off a jar of blueberry jam and slathered it thickly across whole-wheat toast. “I’m always on the lookout for a good business move to enhance Elk Horn’s reputation as a dude ranch. I saw Katie’s talk and was absolutely taken with her passion, her sincerity and love of her raptors. As you know, I pioneered environmental and green ways of living in this valley.”

“Yes,” Joe said, “you were the first to go green, Miss Iris. And actually, because of your decision, my father was able to launch his landscaping business.” His voice lowered with feeling. “We owe you a lot. I hope you always know we’re grateful to you.”

Smiling, Iris sipped her coffee. “I can remember many of the ranchers were up in arms when Trevor and I decided to go green. Now—” Iris looked around the busy café “—there isn’t a rancher around here who hasn’t switched.”

“You’re an inspiration, Miss Iris. You always have been.”

“When Trevor was alive, he turned our manure into compost. He built it into a successful business. To this day, we compost all our cow and buffalo manure and sell it to landscaping businesses in four surrounding states. Your dad was one of the first to come and buy from us. Connor always saw our vision for an environmentally friendly valley even when others didn’t.”

“I recall it all happening when I was growing up,” Joe said. He finished off his breakfast and pushed the plate aside. “My father said there was a condominium boom when I left for college. His landscaping business won a number of bids and he brought environmental ways to work with the land and not against it.”

“Connor was one of a handful of businessmen in the valley who sided with us,” Iris said. She reached out and patted Joe’s hand. “It’s so good to know you’re home! Have you recovered fully from your head injury?”

“For the most part,” Joe said. “I get headaches about once a month or when I’m under stress, and when I do, it’s like a migraine. All I can do is go to my dark room, close the door, keep quiet and let it pass.”

Frowning, Iris blotted her lips with a paper napkin. “I’ve had a few headaches in my life. And I’ve hated every one of ’em. I can’t even begin to understand how you tolerate such pain.”

“They pass,” Joe said, seeing the concern in the elder’s features. “The doctors say it’s just one of the symptoms of my brain healing from the trauma.” He watched Iris put her empty plate aside. “Hey, what can you tell me about Katie Bergstrom’s ad in the newspaper? Before you walked in I was reading that she’s looking for a full-time employee.”

“Yes, since she has a much larger facility out at our ranch, she needs full-time help. Katie has a number of volunteers, but, you know, people are so busy nowadays. And Katie has a full schedule of speaking engagements around the county. She just can’t do it all alone anymore.” Iris tapped the ad with her index finger. “I told her to put in the ad. I’m bankrolling her because what she’s doing is good for the environment, Joe. Plus, our dude ranch guests enjoy a raptor show once a week. Katie brings out her raptors, educates the folks and then flies some of them. Our guests take photos of the raptors and are thrilled to death. Katie needs a full-time assistant. She just can’t handle the business by herself.”

“I see,” Joe said, considering the knowledge. He saw the glow in Iris’s eyes as she talked enthusiastically about Katie. Did Iris realize her protégé might be affiliated with Los Lobos? Inwardly, Joe hurt for the elder. Iris was unusually good at evaluating people, yet drug and gun dealers were chameleons. Every so often, a local person might be dealing and other locals would never suspect. It would come as a surprise when the person was indicted on drug charges.

“Our ranch guests are in love with Katie!” Iris rubbed her hands. “I felt paying Katie a yearly sum, plus footing all the expenses she incurred because of her raptors, was a fine business decision. Since Katie has been there, the Elk Horn Ranch has gotten national press attention. We had reporters from all the major news networks come out, and they did a story on her when Sam, the golden eagle, was transferred to her care. On the internet we’ve created a weekly blog on Katie and her raptors. Every week we highlight one of the birds, talk about its past and how it got injured. We tell folks how Katie and one of her vets brought the bird back from death. When she’s able to release a bird, I get Kam, my granddaughter, to go along and videotape the release, then, we put it in the blog. People from around the world just love being a part of Katie’s raptor world!”

Swept up by Iris’s excitement, Joe decided to address the ad. “Iris, I know you probably didn’t know this, but I’m working toward a falconer’s license.” He saw her surprised expression.

“Really? Why? I mean, my goodness, I didn’t know that! Tell me more, Joe.”

“While I was recuperating at Bethesda Medical Center, my doctor suggested I work with Eddie Barton, a well-known falconer, who also has an eagle license, in the Washington, D.C., area. He said working with the birds would help me not only physically but also emotionally. I’d always loved the hawks and eagles here in the valley, so I gave it a try. I spent my recovery going over to Eddie’s place and helping him for six months. Eventually, I applied for my falconer’s license. It takes two years to get one and I need to find a mentor around here like Katie, who can continue to teach me so I can apply for it.”

“My goodness! Why, Joe, I’m just speechless. Are you thinking of applying for the position to help my Katie?”

He could see Iris had a deep emotional attachment to Katie. It broke Joe’s heart to lie to this woman who had always been such a positive person and had helped so many people over the length of her life, but swallowing hard, he said, “Yes, I was thinking of calling her up and asking for an appointment. I was hoping she would agree to continue to train me while I help her.”

“But what about your dad? You said he was training you to take over his ranching and landscaping business? Could you do both?”

“Not to worry, Miss Iris. My dad is going to retire in ten years. What I’d like to do, if Katie will hire me, is work with my dad on weekends and slowly learn the businesses. I figure in ten years I’ll know enough to take over when he retires.”

“And how old are you now?”

“Twenty-seven, Miss Iris.”

“Oh,” she crowed with a laugh, “you’re just a baby in comparison to me!”

Laughing with her, Joe felt like a traitor. “That’s true. Well, if you think it’s a good idea, I’ll call Katie.”

“Absolutely,” Iris gushed, her hands clasped in excitement. “I’m going over to the Horse Emporium but I’ll be home later. I’m sure Katie will hire you! She was very worried no one would apply. Falconers don’t grow on trees and she desperately needs someone like you. You sound perfect.” Iris gripped his arm and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Joe, you’re just the salt of the earth and I’ve always admired you. If you take the job, I will guarantee a very good wage for you. Plus, medical insurance is included.”

He grinned. “Miss Iris, you’re such a saleswoman. But I have to see if Katie thinks I’m right for the job first.”

“Oh, of course, of course.” Coloring, Iris touched her flushed cheek. “My, this is so fortuitous meeting you here at Mo’s. This is our lucky day!”

“It’s kismet,” Joe agreed. “Let me buy you breakfast, Miss Iris. It’s the least I can do,” he said, digging into the pocket of his Levi’s.

Iris slid off the stool. “Why, that’s very kind of you, Joe. You don’t have to do it.”

“But I want to, Miss Iris.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Oh, all right. Welcome home, Joe Gannon. I know Katie will love you as much as I do. Bye-bye...”

Joe paid the bills, feeling pretty good himself. Dizzied by the synchronicity of events, he walked out the door and into the late-morning sunshine. Why hadn’t this happened earlier in his life? His divorce from Zoe had devastated him. Now he had some sudden good fortune...and a woman who interested him. It was time to call Katie Bergstrom. Would she want to hire him? Joe really didn’t know. This was his chance to at least prove one way or another whether she was working with her mother, Janet.

* * *

KATIE HAD JUST PUT SAM into his mew after cleaning it out when her cell phone rang. Hurrying up the long concrete walkway between the fifteen mews, she picked it off her small oak desk near the front door.

“Hello, this is Katie. Can I help you?” Her voice sounded breathless.

“Hi, this is Joe Gannon. I saw your ad in the paper this morning for a falconer.”

Katie sucked in a breath of air. “Oh!” And then she released the air. “Are you calling about the position?” Iris had persuaded her to try the ad, but Katie had doubted anyone would apply. Her fingers tightened around her phone as she prayed for a miracle.

“Yes, I am. I’m working toward my falconer’s license with Eddie Barton, back in Washington, D.C. Perhaps you’ve heard of Eddie?” Joe knew the man was a very famous falconer who had written a number of books on how to handle eagles. There wasn’t a falconer in the world who didn’t know about this respected man.

“Why...yes, of course I’ve heard of Mr. Barton. You studied with him.”

“Yes, I did. I’ve just moved back home to Jackson Hole. Is it possible to meet with you and apply for the position in person?”

Katie felt joy thrum though her, as if her heart would explode with joy. She closed her eyes, took a breath and tried to slow down her speech; when she got excited, she talked at the speed of light, or so her friends told her. “Of course I’d be interested. You said you’ve just come home? Did you live in Jackson Hole before this?”

“I was born here, Miss Bergstrom. It’s a long story and I’d be glad to answer all your questions if I can come over.”

“Absolutely. I’d love to talk with you. Anyone trained by Eddie Barton...why...you must be good. There’s a waiting line of falconers who are dying to train with him.”

“I guess I got lucky, then,” Joe said. “I just had breakfast with Miss Iris. I know where the Elk Horn Ranch is, may I come over now? Or is there a better time?”

“That would be terrific. Miss Iris loves my raptors. I’m sure she told you she moved my raptor facility to her ranch.”

“Yes, she did. I’ll be showing up in a dark green Ford Focus.”

Katie blinked. She recalled a similar-colored car at the elk fence this morning. Had that been Joe Gannon? Her intuition told her it had. “Great, come on over.”

“See you in about twenty minutes,” he promised.

Katie moved from one foot to the other. Rubbing her hands in excitement, she danced a little dance around the office area. She heard Hank, her red-tailed hawk, whistling softly. Moon, the barn owl who had the mew next to her office desk, was sleeping the day away in her wooden nest box. Sam, the golden eagle whistled, his piercing call echoing throughout the facility. Laughing, Katie called out, “It’s okay, Sam. I’m dancing for joy. There’s a falconer coming for the job! Yippee!”

* * *

JOE EASED OUT of his car and admired the huge metal-and-glass building with louvered windows. He could see the many mews through the clean glass. The entire roof was draped in dark netting, shielding the inner area from an excessive build-up of heat. Raptors don’t do well in high heat. He spotted a propane tank at the other end of the building to warm it during the winter. Huge fans positioned on both ends of the building were turned on to push fresh Wyoming air through the state-of-the-art facility. Iris had said she had spared no expense on this modern raptor facility and she was right.

As Joe shut the car door, he saw the glass entrance door slide open. Katie Bergstrom appeared. He wasn’t prepared for her natural beauty as she waved enthusiastically and hurried toward him. Her black hair was loose, shining like a raven’s wing in the sunlight, blue highlights dancing here and there. But it was her eyes that mesmerized him as he walked around the front of his car to greet her. They were a turquoise blue, the kind of color he’d found in Belize where he had scuba-dived. Her oval face was wide, her eyes incredibly alluring and yet, as his swift gaze dropped to her mouth, Joe felt himself go suddenly hot. How to keep his face carefully arranged?

“Hi, I’m Katie. You must be Joe Gannon?” She gripped his hand and felt his monitored strength. Indeed, her heart pounded, but not because she was excited about his possibly working with her raptors. No, Joe was ruggedly handsome and he made her pulse race. Katie drowned beneath his very male smile, those forest-green eyes alert as an eagle’s. His black pupils were large, the surrounding color reminding her of the Douglas firs on the slopes of the Tetons. What was there not to like about this gorgeous man? Nothing! Breathless with building hope, Katie released his hand.

“Yes, I’m Joe Gannon. Nice to meet you, Miss Bergstrom.”

“Call me Katie. I don’t stand much on formality. Come on in. Let me show you around.”

Joe admired her willowlike form and those legs fired his imagination. Joe tried to tamp down his unexpected reaction toward her. Katie was far more attractive than any photo in the FBI files. Her eyes danced with life, like gold sunlight dappling across a blue lake’s surface. She moved ahead of him to the door and turned, a wide smile on her lips. She wore no makeup, and he thought Katie looked more like a wood nymph from the Greek myths than a real woman. He sharply reminded himself that she was suspected of working for the Los Lobos cartel, yet, she had a trusting face.

Inside the facility, Joe stopped to admire it. Katie stood off to his right, cheeks flushed. Why was she blushing? Because he was applying for the job? He secretly wished it was her reaction to him but that was idiocy. “Wow,” he uttered, admiration in his tone, “this place rocks. I thought Eddie had a modern facility, but yours puts his to shame.”

“Thank you. I owe it all to Iris. I showed her blueprints of other state-of-the-art raptor facilities and she wanted the whole package. I feel very lucky to have her underwriting my business.” Katie wished she’d stop blushing like a teenager, but the timbre of Joe’s voice, the admiration gleaming in his eyes as he absorbed the facility, excited her. If he liked what he saw enough, he might want to work for her. Katie had never thought a man would apply for the job; every falconer she’d ever worked with had been a woman. Could a man be as gentle and intuitive as was needed in order to work with her super-psychic raptors? Katie would test Joe on this very point to find out. If her raptors didn’t respond well to Joe, she wouldn’t hire him. Her birds would evaluate him.

“Well, this is something else,” Joe said in a low murmur. He heard the chirping calls of the hawks on the right side of the concrete aisle. On the left, halfway down, he spotted Sam, the golden eagle. He had a mew twice the size of the hawks or owls. Turning, he held Katie’s warm gaze. Why did she have to look so damned innocent? Why couldn’t she be much less attractive? Joe wanted to find some way to dislike her. Katie reminded him of an excited girl who couldn’t stand still for two seconds. He could clearly see her interest in him, but how to read it?

“Let me show you around.” Katie gestured toward the small office on the right. “You can see we have a cabinet and lockers on the other side of the desk along the wall.” She walked over and opened up one of the lockers. “All the kangaroo leather and tools you need to make jesses, hoods for the falcons or anything else are located in here. You can use the desk to work on.”

Joe saw the tools of their trade neatly placed in individual drawers. The kangaroo leather was in different colors. “Are your raptors color-coded?” he asked.

“Yes. In fact,” Katie said, “I picked up that idea a long time ago from Eddie Barton’s books on eagles. You can see there’s a name of a raptor on each color of leather. That way, you can identify them.” And then she laughed. “Not that you wouldn’t be able to recognize each raptor. But you know what I mean.” She looked up at him. Joe was pure eye candy. Without thinking, she glanced down at his left hand. Was he wearing a wedding ring? No. But that meant nothing nowadays. She didn’t dare ask if he had a partner. More than likely, with his rugged looks and fabulously athletic body, Joe had a woman in his life. Maybe more than one. A bit of her found that a disappointing possibility. She closed the locker doors and gestured across the aisleway.

“This is the whiteboard where I write up the list for the coming day. The hours of the job are 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., Monday through Friday. When you come in each morning, this is the first place you’ll come. I have a lot of speaking engagements and I put the info up along with the names of the raptors I take with me.”

Joe studied the huge whiteboard. Clearly, Katie was in demand as a speaker. He saw ten engagements in the next two weeks. “You are busy,” he agreed, his hands coming to rest on his hips. “No wonder you need help.” He shared a slight grin with her. Her cheeks reddened even more.

“My passion in life,” Katie said, “is educating the public about how important our raptors are to the overall environment. I made a promise to myself to talk wherever I could. The more people who know not to shoot raptors or think of them as vermin, the more I feel I am accomplishing my mission.”

“It’s a good mission to have,” Joe agreed. And it was a perfect cover being part of a cartel, too. Katie could travel wherever she wanted and not be suspected. “I trained with Eddie two to three times a week. He has the same belief as you and he does a lot of speaking engagements around the Washington, D.C., area. One time, he took his bald eagle, Jefferson, into the Senate. The senators had invited him to come and speak to all of them about our country’s national bird. Jefferson wowed them by flying from the lectern down on the floor up to where I was standing in the balcony. That got their attention.”

“You’ve got some eagle training, too?” Katie desperately needed a falconer with some knowledge of how to handle an eagle. They were very different from working with a hawk, falcon or owl.

“Yes, I do,” Joe said, “but I’m not licensed to work with eagles.”

“Right, I understand,” she said, not hiding the excitement in her voice. “But working with Eddie, you worked with his eagles?”

“Yes, every day. He has two bald eagles, a golden eagle, a harpy eagle from South America and a Black eagle from South Africa, among others.”

Katie said in a wistful voice, “Joe, you are an answer to my prayers. You know that getting an eagle license is rare? Most falconers have no knowledge of how to handle an eagle. I told Iris I was praying someone who had training with them would answer my ad.” She gazed up into his green eyes. “Truly, you are an angel.”

Joe felt his conscience bite him. Was Katie for real? She seemed like a rainbow shimmering in the sky after a destructive storm. And rainbows magically dissolved back into the sky. Yes, magical was the word for this woman who held such hope in her eyes. Joe searched her innocent features for the woman who worked for the cartel. Her resemblance to Janet, her mother, was obvious, but unlike her drug-addicted mother, Katie was engaged with her life’s passion, the raptors. They were a different kind of addiction: one that grabbed a person’s heart and spirit and never let them go.

Joe mentally compared the two. Janet had a deeply lined face with pockmarks caused by a meth habit. Her blue eyes were wild-looking, as if she teetered on the edge of insanity. Joe wondered if mother and daughter were in touch with one another. Evidence indicated they probably were, but it was up to him to prove it. He pulled himself out of his reverie and offered her a slight smile. “Eddie’s license allowed me to work with all his eagles. I’m sure you could allow me to work with that golden eagle down there?” He pointed toward Sam’s mew.

“Absolutely, I do have an eagle license,” Katie said. “Come on, let me show you my raptors.”

She was part child, part woman, and as she walked down the clean concrete aisle between the mews, Joe couldn’t harden his heart against her. Somehow, he’d have to remain immune to Katie’s charisma. Most importantly, he had to pass the tests he knew she’d put him through. Raptors knew people far better than any human did, and sooner or later, Katie would invite him to hold and handle some of the raptors. Birds could pick up on the dark side of a human, and they would never relax on their gauntlet as a result. Instead, they’d move around or, worse, try to fly off their gauntlet to get away from the person. Joe silently prayed he could remain low-key, calm and able to fool even the raptors. If he couldn’t, Katie wouldn’t hire him.


CHAPTER THREE

“THIS IS OUR STAR, Sam, the golden eagle,” Katie said proudly.

Halting in front of the huge mew, Joe admired the curious eagle. “Eddie had two of them when I was training with him.” Sam cocked his head, his piercing yellow eyes on him. Joe wondered if Katie would ask him to handle the eagle, but he hoped not. Eagles were heavy, large and given to wanting things their own way. Who could blame them? They were the apex predator of the sky.

“That’s great to hear,” Katie said, smiling up at him. She liked the way Joe was studying Sam. There were earmark traits all falconers shared. They were laid-back and easygoing. Someone who was hyper or had a type A personality couldn’t work around these supersensitive raptors. A tense, stressed human affected the raptor adversely and it would refuse to sit quietly on the gauntlet. Frequently, the raptor would open its wings or try to fly away from upsetting energy. Joe had that quiet, calm demeanor Katie was looking for.

Joe looked across the aisle. “Is this a peregrine falcon?”

Katie walked over to the smaller mew. “Yes, this is Quest. She’s an endangered tundra peregrine falcon.” Pointing to the cage next to Quest, Katie added, “And this is a male tundra peregrine from the Arctic Circle area in Canada. We call him Harlequin. They’re both on loan to me as part of a broader Canadian breeding program to bring the tundra species back to that country.”

Joe nodded. Falconers often were part of global breeding programs from other countries, programs that would rescue a raptor species from near extinction. “Looks like those two are lovebirds.” He smiled a little.

“Actually, I’m going to be putting them together next week. It’s breeding season. As you know, peregrines mate for life. If I’m lucky, they’ll mate. Once the eyasses, or babies, are hatched and grown, a member of the Canadian Peregrine Foundation will fly down here and pick them up. Canada has lost most of its peregrines to the insecticide DDT.”

“It’s a worthy project,” Joe agreed, watching the pair who sat as close to one another as they could, the mew wire wall separating them. Clearly, they liked one another and that boded well for a successful pairing. In a stoop or dive, peregrine falcons had been clocked at two hundred and twenty miles an hour. They stunned their prey by striking it with speed. On the ground, the hapless bird’s spinal cord would be severed by the hawk’s sharp beak. Peregrines mainly hunted other birds such as ducks, pheasants and pigeons.

Joe glanced down at Katie. She was smiling, her eyes soft as she studied the pair of falcons. There was no question she loved her birds. “Do you have any other breeding-program raptors here?”

Rousing herself, Katie nodded. “Yes, let’s go down to the end on the left. “I have an African auger buzzard from South Africa.”

“Mmm, a red-tailed hawk in disguise?” Joe said teasingly. Although the name was different and the hawk was from Africa, it was from the red-tailed family. Each continent had similar species but their markings were different. As they walked over to the mew, Joe saw the hawk study him.

“This is Nar. He’s a male auger buzzard. The falcon society of Cape Town is sending over a female shortly. I’ve signed up for their breeding program and hope that we’ll be producing eyasses for them.”

The auger was a magnificent hawk, and Joe had never seen one of his kind before. “Do you use Nar in your shows?”

“Yes, but he’s a handful,” Katie warned. “He’s got a temperament more like a falcon.”

“Really?” Joe said, lifting his brows. “I handled a red-tailed at Eddie’s and he was a laid-back dude. What makes this auger different?”

Shrugging, Katie said, “I don’t know. When he first arrived and I started handling him, he was constantly flapping and trying to escape. I had to put him on a crèche line for a couple of months for fear he’d fly off and never come back. My mentor, Donna Pierce, said that in her experience, overseas raptors have a very different temperament from their American cousins.”

“Is Donna your teacher?”

Katie turned and studied his serious features. In some respects, Gannon reminded her of an intent eagle focused on his prey. “Yes, she’s actually my foster mother. She’s been a falconer all her life and she has an eagle license.” The words had slipped out and Katie bit her lower lip. She hadn’t meant to say anything about her past.

Joe noticed the sudden darkness cloud her gaze. He took the opportunity, having nothing to lose by asking the question. “Does your mother live here with you? Is she a friend of Iris Mason?”

Katie frowned. “Well...truth be known, I was given up at birth. I don’t know who my real mother is. I’ve been trying for years to get the state to open up the sealed records and tell me.” Pushing strands of hair off her brow, she said, “I grew up in a series of foster homes in Wyoming. And when I met Donna at sixteen, she saved my life. I wasn’t a stellar human being. I was pretty angry all the time. I got thrown into her falconry program as a last chance. Donna took me under her wing, figuratively speaking, and she taught me all she knows. We really bonded and Donna agreed to legally become my foster mother. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Lifting her hand, she gestured to the mews. “Donna does know Iris Mason and had approached her about helping me expand my facility. Iris agreed to build this facility for me and my raptors. She’s been a godsend.”

“I heard that Mrs. Mason donated this land to you.”

“Yes, she’s very ecologically oriented and wanted to help me expand the breeding programs.”

Joe smiled. “You were very fortunate to have a donor. Most falconers struggle all their lives to feed their raptors. The state and federal government don’t pay them a thing for all the good they do.” He saw Katie’s brow wrinkle, as if she were in pain of some kind. Could he really believe she didn’t know who her mother was? She sounded genuine, but who knew? And he wanted to ignore the pain he saw in her eyes. Pain over what? That she was lying to him? That she really knew that Janet Bergstrom was her mother? Joe couldn’t tell one way or another and it made him uncomfortable.

Katie walked quickly up toward the office area. “I’m very lucky. Iris has been a guardian angel to my raptors.” She wanted to forget she’d blurted out her sordid past. After all, Joe was a stranger applying for a job—why had she told him about her unknown mother? Mentally kicking herself, Katie knew why. Finding her mother had been her sole focus since she’d turned twelve years old. Why had the woman abandoned her? Did her mother not love her? Was she such an ugly baby her own mother had wanted nothing to do with her? Was she an inconvenient pregnancy, born into her mother’s life at the wrong time? Was that why she’d been given up for adoption? Biting her lower lip, Katie forced all of her dark past deep down inside herself. She halted at the desk. As Joe sauntered up the aisle, stopping every now and again to appraise the raptors, she took several deep breaths to calm herself.

“I imagine it must be hard not to know who your mother is,” Joe said in an understanding tone. “That’s a heavy burden for anyone to carry.”

“Yes, it is.” Katie wanted to change topics. “So why don’t we move on to a happier topic? Do you have a résumé I can look at?”

Joe nodded and drew a folded paper from his back pocket and handed it to her. When their fingers met and touched, hers felt cold. “Here it is....”

Katie’s hands trembled as she unfolded it and forced herself to read. Some of her stress melted away. “You were in the Marine Corps?” Glancing up, she gave Joe a sympathetic look. “First, thank you for your service. I’m so sorry you got injured. Are you okay now?”

Touched by her apparently genuine concern, Joe said, “Yes. I’m fine now. It was while I was recovering at Bethesda Medical Center that I was sent to Eddie as part of my rehabilitation. He was in the Army during the Vietnam War era and offered his services to the neurology department at the hospital. I got lucky enough to be assigned to him and began to learn falconry.”

Katie looked up at this man who seemed supremely confident. She couldn’t see the wounds of war on him. “But you had a head injury.” Brows drawing down, she asked, “No other symptoms from it?”

“Just one.” Joe touched the left side of his head. “I’ll get a migraine maybe once a month. They’re brought on by stress.”

“Ugh, migraines.” Katie wrinkled her nose. “I hate migraines! I get them myself from time to time.” She tilted her head and searched his face. “Does your migraine lay you low? When I get one, I need a quiet, dark room, and then, I can sleep it off.”

“Mine are the same. Noise just amps up my pain.”

“I feel for you,” Katie said. “Any other injuries? Anything that would stop you from doing the work needed around here?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Studying the résumé, Katie gasped. “Why didn’t I see this before?” She looked up, satisfaction in her expression. “It’s nice to have a hometown person for this job,” she murmured.

Joe grinned. “Yes, I am. Does that hurt my chances?” He’d said it with a teasing tone and saw her suddenly smile. Her lips were full and soft. And when Katie’s mouth widened, his heart skipped a couple of beats. She couldn’t hide any emotion. There was no veneer, no mask in place on Katie that he could discern. It would make his job easier provided she hired him.

“No, no, that’s great. And your parents must live here, too?”

Joe told her about his mother and father. “On weekends, I’m working with my dad to learn his ranching and landscaping business.”

“I see. And your address? Are you at their home?”

He was impressed how quickly she put things together. But then, in Joe’s experience with falconers, they were highly intelligent and, like the raptors they saved, had extraordinary observation and alertness skills. “Yes, there’s a smaller home near the ranch house and I’m living there.”

Katie sighed. “You’re so lucky to have a mom and dad....”

As he heard the yearning in her whisper, Joe felt his heart suddenly wrench in his chest. He drilled her with a look, trying to ferret out whether she was telling the truth. But he was flummoxed. “We get along well with one another” was all he said. Yes, there was real pain in her eyes. For a second, he thought he saw tears building but Katie dipped her head.

Clearing her throat, Katie studied his résumé some more. “So you want a full-time job, five days a week with me, and you’re working with your dad on weekends?”

“That’s right.”

Katie asked in a concerned tone, “How long before you move into ranching as a full-time job?”

Joe knew she worried that if she hired him, he’d leave. “Not for ten years,” and he added a half smile to his answer. Instantly, he saw relief in her face. The stress fled the corners of her delicious mouth. If Katie was this easy to read, he’d have no problem figuring out the connection between her and Janet Bergstrom. “My father isn’t ready to retire. My coming home rather unexpectedly because of the wound I received in Afghanistan got him thinking about offering me the ranch.” Joe opened his hands. “I can’t go back into the military. This IED concussion ended my career. I hadn’t really figured out what I was going to do after the hospital released me and I got my walking papers from the Marine Corps. When I was sent to Eddie for rehab, I fell in love with falconry. My dad called me and asked me to come home and offered to teach me the business, and I accepted.”

“I know about your dad’s landscaping business because Iris hired him to come out here with his construction equipment to level the land where the facility would be built. I remember him. He was a very nice person.”

“My dad is an easygoing type and he’s built up an eco-friendly landscaping business here in the valley over the years.”

“Did you want to become a rancher?”

“I loved the military. I was an officer and I was a good leader. I wanted to put in my twenty years and retire.” Shrugging, Joe said, “You know how life can twist and turn? I knew my two tours in Afghanistan would be dangerous. I lost some of my people to IEDs. And then my turn came.” Joe told her the truth. He purposely left out that during his recovery the FBI had asked him to work for them. He’d spent a year in training after the six months of rehab. The FBI had wanted to put him as an undercover operative in Katie’s life. They wanted actual proof the daughter was working with the Los Lobos cartel.

“I think it’s great your dad has offered you a new career.” Katie smiled a little. “This way, you can be home to enjoy your parents and this beautiful area.”

The wistfulness in her tone told Joe she was wishing she had the same life as he did. After all, being abandoned at birth would be a huge emotional hole in anyone’s life. Gently, he said, “Yes, I count myself lucky.”

The glass doors slid open. Iris Mason stepped in wearing her gardening gloves, a bunch of weeds dangling from her left hand. “Hey, am I disturbing you, Katie? Hi, Joe, nice to see you again.”

Katie lifted her hand. “Hi, Iris. I see you’re weeding again.” In the morning, Iris could usually be found out in her flower beds. “Do you know Joe Gannon?”

“Yes, I do. Glad you could make it out.” Iris dropped the weeds in a nearby barrel and pulled off her muddy gloves.

Joe nodded deferentially to Iris. “Good to see you again, Miss Iris. Looks like the weeds are losing.”

“Oh, they are. Amazing how weeds spring up overnight.” The woman smiled up at him before turning her attention to Katie. “What do you think? Is Joe a good choice to work with you out here?”

Katie handed her the résumé. “What do you think? You’re the one paying his salary.”

Chuckling, Iris took the résumé and quickly perused it. “Well, darling girl, if you like his abilities and you think he’s the ticket, I’m all for it.” She handed the paper back to Katie. Her eyes sparkled as she met Joe’s gaze.

Joe flicked a glance toward Katie. He saw the love mirrored in her face for the silver-haired elder in the floppy straw hat. Something told him Katie was like a long-lost daughter to Iris. The woman’s family had recently expanded. Kamaria Trayhern, the daughter of Rudd Mason, her own adopted son, had returned to the Elk Horn Ranch a few years ago. Kam had proven that she was Rudd’s daughter through a DNA test. Iris had been beside herself with joy. Now, Kam was married to Wes, a wrangler who worked on the ranch. Joe knew from his study of Iris and her family that Kam was expecting a baby girl shortly. Iris was well-known for finding strays, embracing and helping them. It was her nature to help underdogs and she had helped many in the valley.

Iris removed her straw hat and ran her fingers through her mussed hair. “Joe is a known factor,” she told Katie. “You’ve met his father already. As you know, not much isn’t known about those who live in this valley.” She chuckled and settled the hat back on her head. “If you want to hire him, I’m all for it.”

Katie nodded. She looked up at Joe. “I’d like to test you with a few of the raptors. I want to see how you handle them.”

Iris smiled. “Good. Well, I just wanted to drop in and say hello.” She picked up her muddy gloves. “Katie, you put him through his paces. Nice seeing you, Joe.” She waved to them and disappeared through the glass doors.

Internally, Joe went on guard. Would the raptors give him away? God, he hoped not. Would Katie ask him to work with Sam? Eagles were more persnickety than the hot-blooded falcons.

“Your choice. Would you like to work with Harlequin?”

“Sure,” Joe lied. Great, a falcon. They were well-known to be flighty, nervous and to pick up quickly on a person’s energy.

“Do you have your own falconry equipment with you?”

“Yes, it’s in my car. I’ll bring it in....”

Katie watched him leave. There was nothing to dislike about Joe Gannon. He was respectful. He seemed to listen. His handling of a raptor would tell her a lot more than any résumé. He soon returned with a black canvas bag across his shoulder. He took the bag over to the desk and opened it. Curious, Katie watched him draw out a dark brown gauntlet. She saw all the scratches across the well-used kangaroo-leather glove. It was a good sign he had been working regularly with Eddie.

“Why don’t you go down and get Harlequin? I’ll stand to one side and just watch. If you need anything, I’ll be there to coach you.”

Joe pulled on the glove. “Do you want me to feed Harlequin?”

“Actually,” Katie said, “he needs to be weighed. Every morning each raptor is weighed on those scales over there.” She pointed to a long desk on the other side of the aisle. There were two scales on the table. One was for the eagle and the smaller one was for the rest of her raptors.

“Okay,” he said, heading down the aisle. His heart was pounding. He had to get this job. It didn’t matter what Iris Mason wanted and Joe knew that. It would all come down to this: how he handled a raptor. Swallowing hard, Joe forced himself to take a deep, calming breath. As he approached the mew and unlocked it, Harlequin warily eyed him from his perch. Joe knew better than to look any raptor in the eye as this was a sign of threat. Averting his eyes, he focused on quietly entering the clean cage and closing the door behind him. One never left a door open. Ever.

Katie stood back, attentive. She watched Harlequin, who was a red-hot pistol to deal with. If Joe could handle this testy tundra peregrine, he could handle any raptor under her care. She liked the way Joe moved. He slowly brought his glove up to the perch. Harlequin looked at it and then at Joe. A slight smile pulled at Katie’s mouth. Harlequin was all male. And she knew he was sizing up this male stranger in his mew. Raptors remembered faces and they literally memorized everything they saw. Would Harlequin suddenly fly away from Joe because this was the first time he’d ever seen him?

Joe tapped the glove with his index finger. It was an unspoken command every raptor in captivity understood. The falcon looked disdainfully at the index finger on the glove. And then he looked away, toward the other mew where Quest was perched. “I think Harlequin’s focus is elsewhere,” he joked to her in a quiet tone.

Chuckling softly, Katie said, “Gotcha. Yes, he’s wanting to be in her mew. It’s time they mated. Keep tapping your glove. He’ll eventually climb on it.”

Liking her quiet direction, Joe did as he was told.

Harlequin really didn’t want to leave his mew or his mate-to-be. He flapped his wings but remained where he was, ignoring the signal.

“This guy has attitude,” Joe said.

“Yeah, he does. Keep at it. You have to be more stubborn and persistent than he is.”

Smiling a little, Joe again tapped his glove.

Harlequin hopped onto it.

With quiet, smooth motions, Joe attached the jesses to the soft kangaroo leggings around each of Harlequin’s yellow legs. So far, so good. After placing the jesses between the thick fingers of his glove, he slowly lifted the falcon up and headed for the door. If Harlequin tried to bolt and fly back to his perch near the lady falcon, Joe would now have control over him.

Katie nodded her approval. Harlequin seemed all right being on the man’s glove, but he kept looking back with concern toward Quest. “I think once you get done weighing and feeding Harlequin, we’ll transfer him over to the other mew after we weigh and feed Quest.”

Joe walked the falcon up the aisle. Harlequin was looking around, suddenly caught up in viewing all the other raptors on either side of him. “Do I need to put a hood on him? He looks like he’s getting ready to fly.”

“No, he’ll be okay.” Katie knew that most falcons, when brought out of a mew, were always hooded. That kept them from being overstimulated by the changing environment, making them stressed and flighty. “Harlequin is pretty laid-back for a boy falcon,” she said with a laugh. “The only time I’ll hood him is when I take him out for flying time.”

Joe caught her gaze. Her smile melted his heart. She was happy. And so was he, despite the worry the falcon might take flight. Walking to the counter, he placed his glove next to the perch wrapped with outdoor carpeting and securely taped to the top of the scale. Joe tapped the perch with his index finger. Harlequin quickly leaped from his glove, fluffed his feathers, preened a bit on the perch and looked around as lord of all he surveyed.

Katie walked up and picked up a nearby clipboard. “Every morning you’ll weigh each raptor. Depending upon his or her weight, you’ll feed them a certain amount of meat.” She flipped the pages to Harlequin’s file and read the scale numbers. “What amount should he be fed based upon this weight?”

Joe knew the test and glanced at the numbers. Every raptor had a normal weight for their age and size. “I think he’d like about two ounces of meat.”

“Good call. I agree. Hold on...” Katie crouched down to a small refrigerator beneath the counter. Opening it, she drew out a plastic bag bearing Harlequin’s name. “You can do the feeding.”

Joe withdrew the quail meat. He placed it on his glove between the thumb and forefinger. Harlequin instantly gobbled it down and appeared satisfied. Joe smiled and handed the bag back to Katie, who then placed it back in the fridge. “He was a little hungry, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, I flew him yesterday.”

“Makes sense,” Joe replied. “Back to the mew for now?”

“Yep,” Katie said, stepping away.

Harlequin was a good boy this time and with one tap on his glove, he hopped from perch to the fist. Wrapping the jesses around his fingers, Joe walked him back to his mew.

Once Harlequin was on his perch and free of the jesses, Katie said, “Every morning after weighing and feeding, you’ll need to clean all the mews.” She pointed to several small feathers on the gravel beneath Harlequin’s perch. “You can pick up feathers, scat, give them clean water in their bowl. The bath bowl is changed daily.”

Joe nodded and shut the mew and locked it. “That’s what I did at Eddie’s place.”

“Cleanliness keeps them safe. Mites and other insects won’t be around to give them problems,” Katie said. She walked with Joe up to the front once again. He took off his glove and placed it carefully back into the canvas bag, then Katie said, “You handled Harlequin really well. Now, I want you to take out Hank, the red-tailed hawk. We’re going to fly him outside the building. He’s already been weighed and I purposely didn’t feed him because I knew you were coming.”

Surprised, Joe pulled his glove back out of the bag. He’d thought the test was over. Judging from the serious look on Katie’s face, it wasn’t. “Great. I love the flying. It’s the fun part.” He cracked a grin as he pulled on the gauntlet.

Katie smiled back. “I know, but work before play. Go get Hank. He’s a sweetie and won’t give you any problems.”

The cool morning air was warming as the sun’s rays slanted across the lush green valley. Joe felt happy carrying the red-tailed hawk on his fist. Katie led them to a flight oval located on the southern side of the building. A flight oval was usually a quarter of a mile long with four stout metal perches placed around it. He saw that each perch, all large enough for Sam the eagle to land on comfortably, was covered with outdoor carpeting, so that the raptors could grip it and not slide off.

“Go over to the north perch,” Katie instructed. “I’m going to place a dead mouse on the south perch. When I tell you to release Hank, do so.”

“Right,” Joe called, carrying the dark brown hawk with a rust-red tail to the north perch. His heart rate picked up. He liked flying raptors. They were incredible in motion. He saw the hawk eyeballing Katie as she walked toward the southern perch. He could see her placing a white mouse on top of it. The jesses on Hank were very short. Katie waved her hand as a signal to release him. He’d barely lifted his glove upward when Hank exploded off it and flapped quickly into the air. Within five wing beats, he pounced upon the south perch with glee. As he landed, he simultaneously grabbed the mouse in his curved yellow beak. Folding his large wings against his body, Hank gulped down his meal.

Katie had given him a canvas bag filled with raw meat. Joe pulled out the morsel of quail meat and placed it on the perch. Instantly, Hank lifted off and flew to where he stood. In seconds, the raptor had landed and gulped down the meat. Grinning, Joe watched as Katie walked to the west perch where she placed more food. Hank instantly took to the air, heading in her direction.

Joe never grew bored flying a raptor. They were supreme hunters of the air. He observed how naturally Katie called to Hank after he landed and ate his food. She was smiling. But it was her eyes shining with undisguised love that mesmerized Joe. Her full attention was on the hawk. What would it be like to have Katie look at him with that wonderful, glowing expression?

Shaken by his thoughts, Joe scowled. For a moment, he was shocked. There was no way he could get personally involved with this woman. Oh, it was true, Katie was attractive, and so trusting of strangers like himself. Who would have thought she’d be this innocent after being handed off from one foster family to another? He’d read her records. She’d had ten foster families by the age of sixteen. Katie had been in trouble, rebellious and skipping school. She’d had a tough life, there was no doubt. So how could she be so damned open and good-natured now? Was it all really just an act, as his boss Roger Hager wanted him to believe? Rubbing his jaw, Joe wasn’t so sure. There was something pure about Katie that defied logic and Hager’s dire warning.

“Here he comes!” Katie called.

Damn! Joe had forgotten to place the meat on the perch. The bird landed with a flap of his wings, his yellow eyes focused on him.

“Yeah, I screwed up,” he muttered to the hawk. After digging into his pouch, he found the meat. He placed it on the thumb of his glove and lifted it. Instantly, Hank leaned forward and grasped it in his beak.

“You gotta stay awake,” Katie called and laughed as she walked to the east perch.

“I know,” Joe called out. “Sorry...”

“Not to worry.” Katie placed meat on the perch. She watched Hank fly swiftly to where she stood. Smiling, she saw Joe place meat on the perch next to him, and the bird took off like a rocket, wings causing air turbulence around her, lifting strands of her black hair from around her face. Katie liked Joe’s work ethic. Clearly, Eddie had taught him well. Joe didn’t get flustered or tense and the raptors liked him.

Walking toward Joe, she said, “Go ahead and put Hank on your gauntlet. He’s had his breakfast and we’ll put him back into the mew. The next bird out will be Quest. I want to fly her in the oval and she can have her breakfast out here.”

“Okay,” he called and Hank hopped onto his glove. Wrapping the jesses between his fingers, Joe brought the red-tailed hawk down to a comfortable height so he could hold him steady. Hank was ruffling his feathers and shaking them.

“That’s a good sign,” Katie said as she walked up to Joe. “A bird that trusts you will always ruffle its feathers. It shows it’s relaxed and happy.”

Inner relief flowed through Joe as he walked with Katie back to the facility. “Hank is a nice hawk. He’s easy to handle.”

Katie entered the building and stood aside as Joe walked in with Hank. “Well, now you’re going to get to handle Quest. She’s a piece of work.” Katie walked with him down the aisle to Hank’s mew. Joe entered and closed the door behind him. “Quest was shot in Canada and a hiker found her limping around on the ground. He cast her in his T-shirt and hand-carried her to a vet. She doesn’t trust men at all. I don’t know if it’s from being wrapped in the T-shirt or she hated the man who shot her. Or both...”

Joe nodded and came out of the mew with Quest. Turning, he locked the door. “A lot of raptors hate being cast. It makes them feel out of control and trapped.”

“Casting a falcon is really hard on its psyche. They’re more easily stressed. More so than a hawk or eagle.” Katie stood near the cage. She met his gaze. “I like the way you work with my raptors. I’d like to offer you the job, Joe. What do you say?”


CHAPTER FOUR

SHOULD SHE TRY to get in touch with her daughter...or not? Janet Bergstrom sat in the office of Mercury Courier, rubbing her aching head. She had the window open so her cigarette smoke would drift outside. With her fingers drumming on the chipped walnut desk she’d picked up at Goodwill years ago, Janet pursed her mouth. What to do? She glanced out the window and saw storm clouds gathering across the city of Cheyenne. It was summer and they could use the water.

The door to her office was closed but she had exquisite hearing. Janet could hear the bells tinkle as the door opened and another customer arrived. Her help, one of the Los Lobos drug soldiers, Pablo, would take care of the package to be sent by courier. Turning in her squeaky wooden chair, Janet finished off her cigarette and stubbed it out in a green glass ashtray on the corner of her desk.

She stood, realizing she needed to move around. She could never sit still for too long. Running her polished red fingernails through her dyed blond hair, she started to pace. On her desk was a photo taken by a nurse of the baby she’d given up twenty-six years earlier. It was the only photo Janet had of her baby girl. What to do? What to do? She rubbed her damp hands down the sides of her dark green polyester slacks. Janet struggled to think.

Earlier, she’d slipped out the back door and into the alley and smoked part of a joint. A little weed was the only thing that could calm her raw, jittery nerves. But she couldn’t keep a thought in her head. Her mind swung back to her daughter she’d given away so long ago. Should she try to contact Katie Bergstrom in person? On a whim, Janet had driven from Cheyenne to the Elk Horn Ranch where her daughter was living. For years she’d followed her daughter’s career via the Jackson Hole newspaper. She enjoyed the articles on Katie and the raptors. Twice, Janet had chickened out at the front gate of the ranch, parked off the road, trying to build up courage to meet Katie.

“Damn fear,” she said in a gravelly tone, turning on her heel. To hell with it. Janet jerked open the back door. She was desperate for some fresh air. If Pablo needed her, he knew where to find her. Stepping into the alley, Dumpsters on either side of her, three-story redbrick buildings rising around her, Janet wished she was out in nature. She hated cities, even Cheyenne. She preferred the quiet of a rural town.

Fingers trembling, she pulled out the rest of her joint from her pocket. The lighter was always in the other pocket. Placing the joint between her red lips, she lit it and inhaled deeply. She dropped the lighter back into her pocket and began her ambling walk down the empty alley, puffing and holding the smoke in her lungs. The small road was closed off at one end and open at the other. Her car, a gray Subaru that had seen better days, was parked near the rear entrance to her business. Peering out of the alley, Janet watched the traffic zooming back and forth on the four-lane street. The noise and hustle of Cheyenne was diminished by the alley. This was a place where Janet felt somewhat safe.

As she walked, her mind shorted out as it always did and she forced herself to think about contacting her daughter again. What was driving her to do it? Maybe, at age forty-two, her hormones were changing and she was going into menopause? Or maybe age was maturing her a little? Most likely, it was the daily guilt that continued to gnaw at her. Yes, that was it. Guilt. Damned guilt! There wasn’t a day gone by that Janet hadn’t thought of her daughter.

Pushing her fingers through her short hair, Janet exhaled a small gust of smoke, finding calm gradually descending over her edgy nerves. She had just gotten her hair cut and shaped yesterday. As she moved her fingers across her oval face, she could feel wrinkles forming here and there. Janet had thought the new hairstyle would make her look younger. Xavier Lobos, her lover from Guatemala, would be visiting her later today. She critically studied her carefully pressed slacks. God knew, she dieted all the time.

Xavier... Janet halted in the middle of the alley, yearning filling her. How long had it been since they’d made love? Six months? Way too long! Janet felt threads of happiness winding through her chest. She loved the cartel leader with a desperation that drove her crazy. If it wasn’t guilt over giving up Katie, it was missing Xavier’s arms around her.

Her addled brain focused on her daughter. Somehow, Janet wanted to contact Katie. What would she do? Say? Would she be angry? Pissed off, tell her to take a hike? Janet felt anxiety zigzagging through her, erasing her excitement over Xavier’s arrival. Angry that she was allowing fear to run her, Janet finished off the last of the joint. Turning, she walked back to her office.

Pablo, who was twenty-one, entered her office just as she sat down.

“What is it?”

He closed the door and spoke in Spanish. “Señorita Janet, Don Xavier just contacted me. He said to tell you he’ll be here in one hour.”

Nodding, Janet sat down. “Good. Thanks, Pablo.”

“Si, señorita.”

Alone once more, Janet got to her feet. She moved to the bathroom and turned on the light. Xavier was a sinfully handsome dude. She critically studied herself in the dirty mirror over the sink. Liking the short cut, Janet had dyed her black hair a blond shade yesterday. Xavier liked blondes. Oh, she knew he had a lovely young wife in Guatemala who shared his bed, but when he came for a visit, she became his bedmate. Janet lived for these meetings. Staring at her oval face, she picked up her pancake makeup and added a bit more. Her cheeks looked pale so she added blusher. Janet added blue eye shadow. Lastly, mascara to make her short, thin lashes look fuller. Now, as she studied herself in the mirror, Janet felt beautiful. Once again, her lover would arrive and sweep her into his arms. Xavier knew how to treat her right. He would reserve a room at the most expensive hotel in Cheyenne, wine and dine her. They would make desperate, torrid love two or three times a night. Janet felt her breasts and lower body contracting with need of his masterful touch once again.

* * *

XAVIER LOBOS WALKED through the rear door of Mercury Courier. He knew Cheyenne well. Since she was eighteen Janet Bergstrom had fronted his drugs and arms efforts in order to establish a base of operations in the States. Quietly closing the door, he found Janet standing, her face filled with happiness as he stepped like a shadow into her office.

“Xavier!” Janet cried, throwing her arms around his lean shoulders.

He smiled slightly and took her full weight. Janet was five feet six inches tall and he was two inches taller than she. As he pulled her into his arms, he thought she looked old and tired. “It’s good to see you again,” he whispered in Spanish near her ear. He could smell the dye in the strands of her hair. She always wore heavy perfume and he hated the odor. Wrinkling his nose, Xavier forced himself to hold the embrace for a proper amount of time. Janet used to be beautiful, curves in all the right places. Now, she was overweight, breasts beginning to hang, her skin sagging everywhere. Xavier knew drugs could turn youth into old age in a matter of years. And Janet, the addict she had always been, never gave up her drug habit no matter how many times he’d pleaded with her to get clean. He kissed her, trying to put passion into the meeting of their lips, telling himself this was necessary because she was his anchor in Wyoming. He needed to keep her happy. Xavier visited his people in the States every year. It was wise to keep tabs on them and make sure they remained loyal to his cartel.

“Oh, Xavier!” Janet said brokenly, tears in her eyes, “I’ve missed you so much!” She stared up into his dark brown eyes framed with thick, long lashes. Xavier always wore his black hair over his ears. His thick, black mustache only made him look more dashing—and dangerous. She slid her lacquered nails across his shaven cheek. “You look so good.” And then her voice dropped to a whine. “I’m so lonely....”

“Hush, sweet one,” he said, kissing her wrinkled brow. He saw the pancake makeup sitting in lines across her forehead. “I’ve come to rescue you, take you on a magical carpet ride for tonight.” He forced a big smile and held her at arm’s length. “Come, I have the hotel prepared. Only the best for you, Janet.”

All her depression melted beneath his hooded stare. Her gaze settled on his full mouth. What a wonderful lover Xavier was! Her body literally ached to feel his hands playing her like a beloved instrument. “Oh, yes, I’m ready!”

“Good, then come. First, we will have dinner in the room, talk business, and then—” his mouth pulled slowly into a feral grin “—our bodies will whisper lovingly to one another all night.” Xavier knew he had to keep Janet satisfied. She was the hub of his business in Wyoming, and he was wisely making plans to move his work elsewhere. Janet would never know of his plans, of course. He was going to manipulate her into creating a second courier business based in Jackson Hole, where he would establish a second hub for the state and beyond.

“It sounds wonderful!” Janet sighed, picking up her purse. “Let’s go!”

* * *

“WELL, DID YOU HIRE JOE?” Iris asked as she came into Katie’s office area.

Turning in her chair, Katie smiled. “I did. He’s perfect, Iris.”

“And your raptors behaved?” Iris stood in the entrance leading to the mews, smiling down at her.

Laughing, Katie nodded. She touched the résumé Joe had left with her. “He’s a really nice person.”

“What’s good about Joe is that he’s a local,” Iris said, lifting the straw hat off her head.

“And I like the idea of hiring a military veteran,” Katie said. “So many of them are having trouble finding a job after returning home.”

“Yes, Rudd and I like your choice for all those reasons.” She studied Katie for a moment. “I need to sit for a spell and talk to you about something important. Do you have a moment?”

“Sure, sit down.” Katie moved a chair to the side of the desk for Iris. “Are you feeling all right?”

Iris said, “I’m fine. Don’t worry, I may look old but I’m not going anywhere soon.” She grinned and set her straw hat on the desk. “I need to let you know I’ve been up to something that involves you.”

“Oh?” Katie noticed how serious Iris had become. It unnerved her. She was always worried her world would take another unexpected turn. Katie never got used to the ups and downs, twists and turns her life took. Moving to the Elk Horn Ranch had given her a modicum of stability she’d never had before and she found herself liking it. Maybe too much? She held her breath as Iris became pensive. Fear entered her heart. Something was wrong. What was it?

Reaching out, Iris must have seen the anxiety come to Katie’s eyes. Gently, she said, “I hired a woman investigator to look for your mother, Katie.”

Eyes widening, Katie gasped. “You did?”

“Yes, because I know you’ve spent your entire life looking for her and coming up empty-handed.” Her fingers tightened over Katie’s hand.

Heart starting a slow pound, Katie looked into Iris’s narrowed eyes. The words whispered out of her mouth were loaded with anguish. “Did she find her?”

“Yes, my investigator found Janet Bergstrom. I know the state is never going to open up its sealed records and give you want you want. You didn’t realize it, but your mother allowed you to have her surname. I know this is an anchor around your neck, Katie. After getting to know you over the past year, I felt you deserved some help. I know your dream is to make a connection with your mother.”

Automatically, Katie’s fingers brushed against her pounding heart. “You found her? Where? Does she live in Wyoming? Or somewhere else?” Katie had never thought to look for a Bergstrom because the state never told her one way or another if that was her real mother’s name. She felt as if she was going to suffocate.

Patting her hand, Iris released it. “I’m going to invite my PI, Norah Merton, to come in and share the information she’s discovered. Would you like to hear what she found?”

“I would.” She stood up and slipped her arms around the older woman. She kissed Iris on the cheek. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Chuckling, Iris hugged her back and said, “Let’s get Norah in here, then.”

Katie was reeling in shock. By the time she had brought another chair over to her desk, a tall woman in her fifties had entered the facility.

“Katie, meet Norah Merton,” Iris said. “Norah, this is the young woman you’re working for.”

“Hi, Ms. Merton. It’s nice to meet you.” Katie winced as she heard her voice crack with emotion. The tall, slender woman wore a cream-colored linen pantsuit with a white silk blouse beneath it. She seemed elegant, her dark brown hair coiffed and shoulder-length. The sparkle in her hazel eyes made Katie feel a little less tense.

“Hi, Katie. Nice to meet you, finally. Mind if we all sit down and I’ll give you my report?”

“Please,” Katie said, gesturing to her chair. Iris sat down and so did she. Clasping her hands in her lap, Katie tried to sit still. She chewed on her lower lip as the woman pulled out a file from a black calfskin briefcase she carried.

“I’ve got a lot of information for you, Katie,” Norah said. “And some of it is very upsetting.” Her voice lowered and she went on. “Janet Bergstrom gave you up for adoption when she was sixteen years old. You were born in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Your birth mother gave you her last name. And that made it a lot easier for me to track her down.”

“She was sixteen?” Katie said, thinking about herself at that age.

“It’s very young to become pregnant,” Iris consoled her.

Norah nodded. “Normally, when a teen becomes pregnant, her family steps in. That wasn’t the case. Candy Bergstrom, Janet’s mother, was a drug addict herself. Janet was born with cocaine in her system. Candy gave Janet up for adoption right after birth. It was the start of a pattern. When Janet gave birth to you, she gave you her name, Bergstrom, and gave you up at birth. But she lied about who your father was. She put down Lawrence Kincaid, but there is no proof he ever existed. Janet probably lied to protect the real father for whatever reason. That means I wasn’t able to trace your grandparents, either. I’m sorry.”

She felt as if someone had struck her in the chest with a hammer. Katie touched her heart. “At least I know,” she managed in a strained voice. “What else?”

“Candy Bergstrom died at age forty of hepatitis B. She got the disease through a dirty needle. She died of liver failure.”

“Did...my mother know her mother?”

Shaking her head, Norah said, “No. I don’t know if your mother tried to find out or not.”

Norah handed Katie several black and white photos. “I found these photos of Candy Bergstrom at the Cheyenne Police Department. She was up on drug charges at least ten times in her life.”

Katie stared down at the mug shots. There were some full-face and two profiles of her grandmother. “I can see the shape of my face in her face,” she said in a low voice. But that was all. Lifting her head, she asked, “Do you have photos of my mother?”

Norah nodded and handed her three photos. “These are mug shots too, Katie. You need to prepare yourself. Your mother, Janet Bergstrom, was in federal prison for five years.”

Katie’s hand shook as she took the photos from Norah. “Prison?” Her voice cracked.

“Yes. Your mother grew up in ten different foster homes. I can only surmise she was rebellious but I can’t prove it. At sixteen, she was impregnated by someone, but we don’t know who it was. Your mother gave you up after birth and got tangled up with a drug-cartel boss named Xavier Lobos. When your mother was thirty years old, the FBI caught her running guns to Montana. She never gave up Xavier Lobos in court and went to prison for five years because she refused to cooperate with the FBI. They offered her a plea deal if she’d turn in the evidence, but Janet refused.”

“My mother’s a drug dealer?” Hot tears jammed her eyes. Valiantly, Katie tried to handle the shocking news. She felt Iris grip her hand to comfort her. The older woman was also moved to tears. “This...this is awful.... I had dreamed my parents were great people, important...successful.... God, I was so wrong...”

“I know, honey,” Iris whispered. “I know you thought your mother was someone special, that she had a good life and was happy.”

Norah added in a sad tone, “So often, abandoned children grow up with an incredible dream that their parents are accomplished, successful and happy.” Opening her hands, the investigator said, “Unfortunately, it’s usually the opposite, Katie. A young teen mother has no home support, so she gives up her baby. And sometimes, she spirals down after that instead of trying to mature and remake her life into something positive.”

Katie wiped her eyes with trembling fingers. She sniffed. “You’re right, Norah. I had these crazy dreams my mother was a pilot, a ballet dancer or maybe a famous artist....”

Iris said, “Honey, as you know, Rudd was adopted by Trevor and me. We know how painful it is for someone like yourself to discover her roots. And often, it’s not what you might have imagined. You’re looking pale. Do you want to take a break? Maybe get some coffee at the ranch house? Or would you prefer Norah come back another time? I know this is a lot to absorb.”

Katie squeezed the older woman’s work-worn hand. “No, I’m so thankful you hired Norah. At least now I know the truth. I can stop worrying and wondering who my mother was....”

Iris nodded to the private investigator. “Go on, Norah. Katie might look young and innocent, but she’s tough on the inside.”

“Okay,” Norah said with a slight smile. She turned and focused on Katie. “After being released from prison, your mother went to Guatemala. She remained there for a year. I can’t get any information on her there except that the police had proof she was living with Xavier Lobos. And then she moved back to Cheyenne. At that point, she built Mercury Courier service. It’s a state-wide courier service delivering packages and other communications around the state. I’m assuming Xavier Lobos underwrote her business. She didn’t have any income that I could detect. In other words, the police and FBI suspect but can’t prove she’s being bankrolled by Lobos.”

Dragging in a ragged breath, Katie couldn’t take her gaze off the black-and-white mug shots of her mother. Her hands turned damp and cool as she touched the photos. “She’s still a drug dealer, then?”

“Most likely,” Norah said, “but again, understand the authorities can’t prove it. If she is, she’s very good at it. Janet’s been out of prison seven years and hasn’t been caught. Maybe she’s not aligned with the Lobos cartel. I think you should assume she’s innocent until proven otherwise. Many times, prison will change a person for the better.”

“She’s really beautiful, isn’t she?” Katie said, still mesmerized by her mother’s photo.

Iris heard the wistfulness in Katie’s voice. “Yes, Janet is very attractive, but so are you.”

“We—look a lot alike, don’t we?” She lifted her gaze to Iris, whose face had gone tender with sympathy.

“Very much,” Iris agreed. “Listen, Katie, no one in this life is perfect. We all make awful mistakes. I hope, like Norah, that your mother straightened out after leaving prison. And that she’s gone on to become a successful businesswoman.”

“Norah, do you have a phone number for her?” Katie asked.

“I do.” She handed Katie the information sheet. “Everything you want to know is here.”

Feeling dizzy as the file with the information slipped between her fingers, Katie stared down at it, unable to speak. Finally, after twenty-six years, she knew where her mother lived, what she did for a living and her phone number. God, how many times had she dreamed of this moment? Closing her eyes, Katie pressed the file to her breast. The only sounds she heard were her breath and her pounding heart. My mother. And all it would take was one phone call. One. Opening her eyes, Katie stared over at Norah, who had a very compassionate expression on her face. This was probably not the first time Norah had been hired to hunt down a missing parent.

“Thank you, Norah. This means the world to me. Truly, it does.” Katie reached over and squeezed the woman’s hand.

“I wish I had happier news for you, Katie. I never know where the leads will go or what will be revealed. It’s always a journey.”

Raising her brows, Katie placed the file on the desk. “That’s it, isn’t it? We’re all on a journey?”

“It’s lifelong,” Iris agreed. “Would you like to ask Norah any more questions? She’ll leave her full report with you.”

“No...not right now.” Katie managed a tight smile. “I need time just to take all of this in. It’s...shocking.”

“You can call me at any time, Katie,” Norah said. She handed her a business card. “Iris has paid for my services. All the information I’ve shared with you is private. No one else will ever have it unless you decide to divulge it.”

“That’s good to know,” Katie replied. “I don’t think many of my friends would think as highly of me if they knew my mother had been in prison.” Her voice fell and she rubbed her head. “I mean...”

“We know what you mean,” Iris said. “Okay, we’re leaving. If you need me, you know where I am. If you want to talk, I’m here for you, Katie.” She gave the young woman a warm look. “You’re like another granddaughter to me, Katie. You’re beautiful, you have a good heart and you treat people right. That’s why I wanted you here on the Elk Horn. You do good things for people and animals. And now, let me be here if you need someone to listen.”

Katie stood when Iris rose from her chair and gently hugged her. “Thank you, Iris. I’ve always seen you as my fairy godmother who cares.” Katie released her and held the woman’s tear-filled gaze. She realized Iris was crying for her.

“You’re not alone in this, Katie,” was all Iris could choke out. After giving her a swift peck on the cheek, Iris walked to the sliding-glass door.

“Norah, thank you for all you’ve done,” Katie said, her voice wobbly. “You’ve given me back my life, whether you realize it or not.”

Warmly shaking Katie’s hand, the investigator nodded. “Call me if you have questions, okay?”

“Okay.” Katie watched the two women leave. Behind her, Sam shrieked. She knew from long experience that raptors could easily pick up on a human’s emotions. And right now, she felt as if a tank had run its treads over her heart and torn it apart in her chest.

Sam chut-chut-chutted. He flapped his long wings from his perch.

“It’s okay, Sam,” she called. “I’m okay. Really, I am...”

The eagle tilted his head, his yellow eyes piercing as he studied Katie in the aisleway. His whistle carried loudly throughout the facility.

Tears formed in Katie’s eyes as she walked back to her desk. Sam knew she wasn’t all right. Staring at the pictures and the report, Katie released a ragged breath. Tears spilled silently down her drawn cheeks. Suddenly, the make-believe world she had lived in for twenty-six years had been forever shattered.


CHAPTER FIVE

SOME OF JOE’S HAPPINESS eroded as he entered the raptor facility the next morning. Katie was sitting at the desk, poring over a file. She quickly shut it, as if embarrassed to be caught looking into it. Her eyes were reddened. Had she been crying? Joe didn’t expect the punch to his chest at seeing her so sad. Secretly, he was glad to see her again. “Good morning,” Joe said, stepping through the glass doors. He pulled the canvas bag containing his equipment off his shoulder. “Where would you like me to stow this?”

His smiling face changed to one of worry. His gaze probed hers, as if silently asking her what was wrong. The file Norah had given her yesterday was beneath her hand. Nervously, Katie stood, leaving the file on her desk, and pointed to two nearby green metal lockers. “You can use the second locker next to my desk and put your equipment in there.” Katie walked across the aisle to the weighing station where she pulled plastic bags of meat out of the refrigerator.

“Okay,” Joe said. Later, when Katie wasn’t around, he would try to see what was contained in the file. He heard the chirps of welcome from the raptors. Sam’s chutting was a lot louder. Glancing down the aisle, he asked, “How are the birds this morning?”

“Fine, fine.” Katie’s hands shook as she finished putting either mouse meat or rabbit meat into the smaller bags. Her gut churned and she felt nauseous. She’d completely forgotten Joe was coming in for his first day of work at 8:00 a.m. She wasn’t emotionally prepared. She’d slept poorly because of nightmares in which Janet Bergstrom screamed at her to go away, not even to try to make contact. Katie had awakened at 3:00 a.m., sobbing into her pillow. She hadn’t been able to get back to sleep after that.

She hoped Joe wouldn’t see she’d been crying. Every time she recalled yesterday’s conversation with Norah, tears would form. Girding herself, Katie forced down her feelings. She had to train Joe today. She heard the locker door open and close and turned as Joe pulled on his gauntlet. His handsome face had darkened with concern. Of course he could see she’d been crying. Great. Not exactly the foot she wanted to get off on with this trainee.

“Everything okay?” Joe asked, keeping his voice even. Katie appeared disheveled this morning. Her black hair was mussed, as if she hadn’t combed it. Her face was pale, redness rimming her blue eyes. An acute desire to reach out and touch her shoulder took him by surprise.

“Yes, yes, everything is fine,” Katie managed. Her voice sounded off-key even to her. Moving to the aisle, she said, “Joe, will you start on the left and go to the first mew? I’m a little out of sorts and the birds will feel it. Bring them up here one at a time. You weigh them, I’ll write down the numbers and then I’ll feed them. Afterward, you can return them to their mews. Okay?” She searched his pensive features. His green eyes were speculative and focused on her. A lump stubbornly remained in her throat. Grazing the area with her fingers, Katie added a limp smile to go along with her request.

“Sure, no problem.” Joe turned and walked down to the first mew on the left. The name Moon was on the cage door. Below it: Barn Owl. He opened the mew. Moon was not to be seen and Joe knew she would be found in her wooden nest box since owls slept during the day. He peeked in and kept his voice soft.

“Moon? You ready to be weighed?” Joe saw her heart-shaped white face lift. The barn owl had been sitting on the floor of the nest box, fast asleep. She revealed her round black eyes and opened her beak, as if to yawn. Joe forced himself to focus on the owl. He wanted to know why Katie was so upset. It had something to do with that file. His mind whirled with possibilities as he gently tapped the front of Moon’s box. A trained raptor knew the tapping meant they were to sit on the glove of the falconer. Moon stared sleepily at him.

“I know, you haven’t had your coffee yet, Moon, but you gotta come to my glove,” he told her with a grin.

Katie heard Joe talking to Moon. She looked around the corner. Joe was peering into the nest box, his glove even with the opening. She heard laughter in his tone as he spoke quietly to the owl. Her heart suddenly opened. Instead of pain, she felt a sense of calm. She studied Joe for a moment, really appraised his features and manners. He was dressed in a long-sleeved white cotton cowboy shirt and Levi’s. His dark brown hair was short and had been recently washed. She found herself liking his quiet demeanor and he certainly knew what he was doing with the raptors. Moon peered drowsily out of her nest box. Then she looked up at Joe, studying him. This was the first time Moon had seen him. He kept his glove on the lip of the box so she would climb onto it when she was ready.

“Have you handled many owls?” Katie called.

“No,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. Katie was standing in the aisle, a bag of food in her hand. It upset him to see how wan she looked. “Anything I should know about Moon?”

“Owls are the opposite of hawks, falcons and eagles. They’re slower. Owls think a lot about something before they do it, unlike other raptors. Moon is memorizing your face right now. All birds memorize. Keep talking softly to her, gain her trust and eventually she’ll climb onto your glove.”

Nodding, Joe kept up his quiet banter with the sleepy barn owl. Moon’s white breast feathers were dotted with caramel and black spots. “Listen, Moon, we got a bunch of hungry hawks, falcons and eagles in here. Are you going to hold up the breakfast line for all of them?” He grinned as Moon tilted her head, peering intently up at him. Then, unexpectedly, she hopped firmly on his glove. Her claws dug in, she fluffed her feathers and seemed content. Joe slowly eased her away from the nest box. Once out of the mew, he shut the door and walked Moon to the weighing station.

Moon hopped on the perch to be weighed. Her attention was on Katie, who stood next to Joe. Moon’s focus was on her opening the bag that contained some delicious dead white mice; the barn owl keenly eyed her breakfast.

Joe read off the numbers and Katie wrote them down on Moon’s file. The barn owl opened her beak and began a begging cry to Katie.

“How old is Moon?” Joe asked, watching Katie pull out a dead mouse by its tail.

“She’s three years old.” Katie lifted the mouse up and Moon gobbled it down in three gulps.

“How did you acquire her?”

“Moon was discovered in a rancher’s barn. She’d fallen out of her nest as a baby. The fall broke her right leg. The rancher discovered her on the floor, picked her up and called me. I drove over and got her.” Katie smiled softly as she fed Moon a second mouse. “She was nothing but a ball of fuzz and fluff. So ugly but so cute...”

Smiling, Joe enjoyed the huskiness of Katie’s voice. It calmed him, yet excited him at the same time. She worked quietly and without any swift movements around Moon. “And she became an educational bird because of her broken leg?”

“Yes, the break was an open fracture.” She glanced over at him. “Moon’s fracture was so bad the vet said she could never be released into the wild. If Moon pounced on prey, it would break her leg again.” Katie closed the bag and gently ran her index finger down the soft feathers of Moon’s breast. The barn owl gave her a begging look for another mouse. “No more, Moon. Your eyes are bigger than your stomach. Go ahead, Joe. Take her back to her nest box.”

Joe placed his glove next to the perch for Moon to step upon. The owl continued to gaze adoringly over at Katie.

With a slight chuckle, Katie said, “No, Moon, I’m not taking you back to your box. Joe is.” She tapped the thumb area of Joe’s proffered gauntlet. “Come on, you have to get used to having him take you back to your home.”

The owl hopped on Joe’s glove.

“Does Moon understand English?” he asked teasingly as he slowly lifted the gauntlet with Moon on board.

Shaking her head, Katie managed a half smile. “No, but these birds are so psychic they pick up on what we want. As soon as you put Moon in her nest box, she’ll go back to sleep.”

“Right.” Joe saw that Katie looked a bit more perky than before. He knew raptors had a phenomenal ability to change a person’s mood. It was bird magic, he decided. Once in the mew, the barn owl leaped from his glove back into her nest box, trundled around, sat down and promptly closed her eyes.

Joe moved to the next mew, which contained two Harris’s hawks from Arizona. “Who’s first?” he called.

Katie looked around the corner. “Take Maggie first. She always wears the red jesses on her legs. Her mate, Mac, wears blue ones.”

“Got it,” Joe said, opening the mew. He knew the black-and-reddish-colored hawks from the southwestern desert of Arizona were among the few social hawks in the world. Many generations in the same family lived together. Maggie flew to a cottonwood branch, which acted as her perch. She was more than ready to hop on Joe’s glove. The hawk’s eyes were twinkling and he liked the ebullient energy around the Harris hawk. In the meantime, Mac sat on the back perch, shrieking and flapping his wings because he was going to be left behind.

After shutting the mew, Joe brought up Maggie to the weight table. The hawk, unlike the owl, was fast. Before he even got his glove to the scale, Maggie flew to the perch. If hawks could smile, Joe thought she was smiling. “She’s hungry?”

Katie laughed softly. “Not really. Maggie, you’ll find, has a mind of her own.”

“I guess,” Joe said with a smile as he leaned down to read the hawk’s weight. “I like women with minds of their own.”

Katie jotted down the numbers. Joe made her want to talk, to be closer. She liked the warmth that exuded from him like sunlight. While she felt great around him, there was also this black hole. She got the feeling she would never escape the depression hounding her. And yet, with Joe nearby, she felt a niggle of hope. How could he lift her spirits when she felt so despondent? After Katie fed the hawk, Joe took Maggie back to the mew and brought up Mac.

As they worked seamlessly, Joe felt driven to try to establish a more personal connection with Katie. He knew he had to do it for professional reasons. Last night, after talking to his boss in Washington, D.C., Joe had hung up the phone not feeling good about it. The FBI was convinced Katie was a criminal. His gut told him she wasn’t, but he couldn’t convince Roger. At least, not yet. And every time Joe looked at Katie, his heart lurched in his chest. The reaction continued to surprise him. Joe had no idea what it was all about.

Next came Sam the eagle. Katie asked, “Do you have an eagle gauntlet?”

“No, I don’t.” Joe grimaced. “Do you have an extra glove? Maybe a little bigger one?”

Katie walked over to the first green metal locker and opened it. The locker was seven feet high and she stretched up on tiptoes to grab a dark-colored leather gauntlet sitting on the top shelf. “Yes, here’s a man’s-size eagle gauntlet.”

“Good,” Joe said with relief. Their fingers touched. Instantly, he felt a mild electric shock travel through his hand. Joe hid his reaction and took the glove. He pulled his off and placed it on the desk next to the file. “Thanks. I’m going to have to order my own eagle glove.”

“Yes, you will,” Katie said. “Now, Sam will be eager to get out, so expect his testosterone, okay?”

Joe tugged on the glove. It fitted right up to his elbow, longer than the regular gauntlet. “I wonder if he’ll be as aggressive as that harpy eagle Eddie has?”

Katie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never handled a harpy. They have a fierce reputation and Sam, although he’s a boy eagle, isn’t aggressive. He’s just confident, is all.” She met Joe’s warm green gaze and her pulse quickened. Miraculously, the pain she’d been feeling in her heart dissolved. What kind of magic did Joe Gannon possess? The birds, thus far, had responded wonderfully to his quiet demeanor. Was she also responding to him? Confused, Katie didn’t have time to figure it all out. The report on her mother hung like a lead cape over her. It was impossible for Katie to sort through all the emotions.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out,” Joe joked. Some of the darkness in her blue eyes lessened. And when the corners of her soft, beautiful mouth lifted, Joe felt happiness. Tearing his gaze from hers, he forced himself down the aisle toward the chut-chut-chutting Sam.

Katie watched Joe handle the excited golden eagle. No one like being fed more than Sam. Joe guided the eagle onto the glove. When Sam unfurled his wings, the seven-foot wingspan was enough to rattle any falconer. Yet, as Sam spread his wings, Joe stood quietly and continued to wrap the jesses between his fingers. This was one raptor that he couldn’t trust to stay on his glove to be weighed. Eagles were at the top of the food chain, which explained Sam’s bold and confident nature. A trickle of relief moved through her as Joe successfully brought Sam out of his mew.

“Nice going,” she praised Joe.

“He’s a cupcake compared to the harpy.”

“Sam’s still a handful, though.” Katie met Joe’s gaze and melted beneath his widening smile. Man and eagle looked comfortable with one another. “You’re a good fit for Sam. He likes you,” Katie said, turning to the weight table and bringing the large scale forward for Sam to perch upon.

“I like him. He’s a beauty and really, very well-behaved.”

“Mmm,” Katie said, standing aside. The weight area was ten feet wide and when Sam spread his wings, the air rushed by her head and lifted strands of her hair. Joe guided him expertly onto the perch. Sam ruffled his bronze feathers and chirped pleadingly toward Katie.

“Weight first, big boy,” she told the eagle, “then food. You know the drill....”

Chuckling, Joe remained close, the jesses strung between the fingers of his glove. One never allowed an eagle loose in a facility. If he did get loose, he’d destroy his wing feathers because of the cramped quarters. Eagles had to be kept in a controlled state while indoors. Joe read the weight.

“Great,” Katie said, picking up the large plastic bag that contained half a dead rabbit.

Sam chutted excitedly, watching her open the bag.

“Joe, get Sam on your glove. I don’t feed him on the perch.”

Nodding, he tapped his glove. Sam leaped onto it, his talons curving around Joe’s wrist. Lifting and turning him so he faced Katie, Joe held his arm still for the feeding. A sixteen-pound eagle put a lot of stress on anyone’s arm. Sam gobbled the rabbit as if starved. Joe’s lower arm muscles began to burn from the weight of the raptor. He was glad when feeding was complete. And he was relieved when Sam was back in his mew. As he shook his arm, he noticed Katie watching him.

“He’s heavy.”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Sure. Who’s next?”

“We have the tundra peregrines, Quest and Harlequin, on the other side of the aisle to feed now.”

Joe liked that she used we instead of I. “I’ll go get the first one.”

For the next half hour, they worked with one another to weigh and feed all the raptors. But during this time, his mind kept going back to the file folder on Katie’s desk. It was unmarked and obviously important. What was in it? He saw an edge of a black-and-white photo sticking out of it. Maybe he could ease into it, try to establish a more personal rapport. “I told my mom and dad I got the job yesterday.”

“Oh?” Katie wrote down the numbers on Harlequin. “Were they happy for you?”

“Yes, they were.” He grinned. “I have a true story to tell you.” He wanted to lift her mood. “My mom loves birds and she has a green parakeet named Skippy.”

“Is that an earned name? As in skipping out of town? Escaping his cage?” Katie asked, hearing the warmth in Joe’s low voice. She fed Harlequin and kept glancing over at Joe. She was amazed at their teamwork. Truly, he was good with the birds and that lifted a lot of worry off her shoulders.

Joe laughed a little. “Yes. Skippy likes to escape out of the house any time he sees a door open. He’s been doing this for five years, now. The last time he escaped, Mom had to go next door to a neighbor rancher who had a male parakeet called Zeus. Skippy would fly over there and sit outside the window where Zeus’s cage was and chirp for hours. I think she was in love with him. They set Skippy’s cage outside the window and she eventually flew into it because she was hungry or thirsty. Then my mom shut the cage door quickly and Skippy’s wanderings were over until the next time.”

Katie laughed over the picture Joe painted. She finished feeding Harlequin, who was looking for more handouts. “Skippy is a bold little girl! Either that or she was helplessly in love with Zeus.”

“The plot thickens, though. There’s a local red-tailed hawk in the area and he usually sits in a cottonwood tree near the front door of my parents’ home waiting and watching. He’s aware Skippy escapes and is just waiting for the right day and moment to snatch her.”

“Not good for Skippy,” Katie agreed. She felt more of her gloom lift. Joe was lucky to have parents. Did he know that? Katie smiled up at him as he lifted Harlequin off the perch. When he smiled back, she felt as if light were lancing through her inner darkness.

Joe brought Quest up to be weighed and fed. As they worked, he asked, “My mother has always loved parakeets. I was raised with one around the house. Did you ever have a parakeet when you were a kid?”

A shaft of pain struck. Swallowing, Katie found herself blurting out the truth. “My growing up years weren’t exactly great. I never had a pet of any kind.” She compressed her lips to stop the flow of words. What on earth had she just said? Katie was normally very secretive about her childhood. She looked over quickly at Joe, dismayed at his perplexed gaze. Who wanted to hear her sad story? She was sorry she’d said anything. “Most kids don’t have great childhoods.”

A flush raced across Katie’s pale skin. Joe saw her gulp and quickly avoid his eyes as she fed Quest. He’d touched a nerve. He knew from her record that her childhood had been a massive, ongoing car wreck. How she’d survived amazed him because she seemed so damn fragile and otherworldly. His job was to get her to talk and trust him. Joe searched his memory for something that wasn’t as prickly a subject that she might respond to.

“Life can be hard.”

His voice was low with understanding. Katie’s anxiety shifted and dissolved. He stood with the peregrine on his glove. She felt a powerful sense of protection emanating from the man. The knot in her stomach lessened. “Your life as a Marine Corps officer was very dangerous.”

Joe knew she wanted to avoid talking about her childhood. Okay, he’d go where she wanted. “I liked what I did in the Marines, Katie.” There, he’d used her name. Joe had seen an instant response as her name rolled off his lips in a husky whisper. Katie’s expression changed instantly and more of the darkness left her exquisite dark blue eyes. Katie was deeply touched by the simplest things, he realized. “I liked being a leader. And I had good men working under my command. We shared a common bond and brotherhood.”

“Yes, but you nearly died in Afghanistan.”

“Came close,” Joe agreed, one corner of his mouth tucking inward. “I’ll be back.” He went to put Quest away.

Katie waited until Joe brought up Hank, the red-tailed hawk. The raptor was eyeing Joe, as if deciding whether he liked him. Then she smiled as Hank ruffled his plumage. Yep, Joe had won him over. After weighing the hawk, she said, “I’m sure your parents were worried when you were wounded. I can’t think of a more awful place to be as a parent.”

He liked her sensitivity. Katie could feel for other people and realize the pressures and stresses upon them. Originally, he’d thought she might be completely self-centered, as drug addicts and children of drug addicts sometimes were. He was wrong and the discovery made him happy for no accountable reason. “Yes, my poor mother was stripping gears to find out about my medical condition. Eventually, they flew to Landstuhl Medical Center in Germany to be with me.”

“Wow,” Katie said, feeding Hank, “that must have cost them a lot of money.”

“It did. But you do anything for the ones you love. They cashed in their retirement savings. I was one happy guy when they showed up. I’d just come out of surgery, and to wake up and see my mom and dad at my bedside was a huge plus for me.”

“I can imagine. I can remember so many times when I wished my parents had been there for me.”

Katie was sorry she’d said anything.

Gently, he said, “What do you mean?” It was an opening. Would she go there? Fear and anxiety suddenly came over her expression. His gut tightened. Could someone fake such a visceral reaction? Joe didn’t know. Katie looked genuinely stressed over her admission.

Katie looked away. “Don’t mind me, Joe. I’m emotionally off today. I’m just not myself. Go ahead and take Hank back to his mew.”

So close and yet, so far away... Joe nodded and carried Hank to his mew. For a split second, he’d thought Katie would divulge something about her past to him. And then she’d closed up like a safe.

In the last mew was a female great horned owl with the name of Athena. This owl was the largest of its kind in the United States. She was multicolored with black, white, gray and brown feathers. Athena’s sharply pointed feather ears made her appear alert. She was snoozing on a large perch at the back of the mew when Joe disturbed her. Opening her huge round eyes, Athena stared unblinkingly at him.

“Is Athena a cranky sort when you wake her up?” he called to Katie

Katie walked to the entrance. “No, why?”

“She’s giving me a funny look.”

“Oh, Athena is a really slow awakener. If you think Moon was slow, Athena’s ten times worse.”

Glancing toward her, Joe grinned and said, “Hey, I relate to that. When I was a teenager, my mother used to pound on my door forever to wake me up. I was always a deep, late sleeper.”

“And you were probably late more than once to catch the school bus?” Katie guessed, feeling warmth drench her as he gave her that very male smile. Hungrily, she absorbed the care banked in Joe’s eyes. His mouth was beautifully shaped and she found herself staring at it. Inwardly, Katie felt her heart beat a little faster as he shared that intimate smile with her. It made her feel desired. Those unexpected sensations flummoxed her. Katie didn’t know what to do. Joe made her feel special when she knew she was not.

“Yep, you guessed it. My mother about pulled all the hair out of her head during my teen years. I was a late sleeper. Even two alarm clocks wouldn’t wake me up.” He chuckled fondly over those memories. Athena finally walked up to where he had his gauntlet placed against the branch. She fluffed her feathers repeatedly and then climbed, one foot at a time, onto Joe’s proffered glove.

“Are you still like that?” Katie wondered as Joe walked to the mew door.

“No. I got the stuffing kicked out of me in college. After graduation and joining the Marine Corps, I was one of the lightest sleepers in the world.”

“And when you came home to visit your parents, I wonder if your mom wasn’t surprised?” Katie laughed.

Joe allowed Athena to hop onto the perch to be weighed. The owl began whistling softly at Katie, who was holding a leg of a rabbit for her. Joe read the numbers and she jotted them down. She held up the rabbit leg. Athena opened her mouth and promptly grabbed it. Katie was always amazed how a long foreleg of a rabbit could disappear into the owl’s throat so quickly, but it did. Once the meat and bone were gobbled down, Athena fluffed and then her eyelids half closed.





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