The Defender. Lindsay McKenna
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