Soaring with Fallon (Big Sky 4)
“I think they’re grey owls,” Noah says. “But when they’re that little, there are a couple of possibilities. I think we’ll know her when we see her.”
I nod and hike off the highway a bit, keeping my eyes open, grateful that I wore my hiking shoes rather than my flip-flops.
“Noah!” Jeff calls, catching all our attention. “Over here!”
Noah reaches Jeff’s side first, his face grim.
“Damn,” Noah says with a sigh. “She didn’t make it.”
“I can’t look,” I say, shaking my head as Nancy slips her hand into mine and we wait back by the road. “I’m sorry, I just can’t bear it.”
“I understand,” Nancy says. “The hardest part about living on the ranch all these years is seeing the animals hurt.”
I look over at her and smile softly. Nancy is a lovely woman in her sixties with laugh lines by her eyes and only a touch of grey in her hair.
“Do you still live on the ranch? Is it the Lazy K Ranch?”
“Oh, yes,” she says. “We’re retired now, and our sons Josh and Zack run the ranch, but Jeffrey won’t ever leave it. Noah’s parents, Susan and Doug, moved down to Arizona a few years ago for the winters, but I don’t think I could talk Jeff into that. And to be honest, I’m okay with that. The winters don’t bother me much.”
“You’re a close family,” I say, watching Noah and Jeff talk to each other where the owl is.
“Very,” she says with a smile and looks over at me, a frown forming between her brows. “What about you, Fallon?”
“I don’t have family,” I reply easily and grin reassuringly. “It’s not a sad story, and I’m fine. It’s just interesting to me when I meet a large, close-knit family.”
“Well, you’re welcome at the Lazy K anytime.”
Noah and Jeff make their way over to us.
“Are you going to bury her?” I ask.
“No,” Noah says with a frown. “She’ll be taken care of by other critters, just the way it should be in the wild.”
“Circle of life,” I mutter, thinking it over. I’ve never thought about it being so sad before.
“Do you know what killed her?” Nancy asks.
“I think she was probably hit by a truck,” Noah says with a sigh. “Poor thing. But we have the babies, and we’ll take care of them.”
“I know you will,” Nancy says proudly. “Our Noah is a talented zoologist.”
“She has to say that because she loves me,” Noah says and winks.
“And because it’s true,” Nancy says as we walk toward our vehicles.
“I spoke with Doug the other day,” Jeff says. “He said he and your mom should be here by next weekend. They’re usually home by now.”
“I know, but Mom joined a book club, and she wanted to be there for their meeting tonight,” Noah says with a laugh. “They’re going to stay a month longer to make up for it.”
“Well, I think we should all have a barbecue at the ranch,” Nancy says. “The family hasn’t all gotten together in too long.”
“I’m always game for that,” Noah says. “As long as you make your apple pie for dessert.”
“I think something can be arranged.” Nancy turns to me, flashing me a bright smile. “You should come, too.”
“Oh, but it’s a family—”
“I’ll bring her,” Noah says, and that seems to be the end of that. We say our goodbyes and drive back to the sanctuary. “Do you want me to drop you at the house?”
“No, I want to see what happens next,” I reply, excited to see Noah in action. Something tells me if I was attracted to him before, watching him work will be fascinating.
It’s late enough in the day that all of the summer volunteers have left, but a woman and a man meet us, both anxious to help Noah get the owlets off the truck and inside.
“This is Veronica and Justin,” Noah says.
“Call me Roni,” Veronica says with a smile. “And nice to meet you.”
“I’m Fallon,” I reply, following them into a building behind the main office where there are stainless steel tables and all kinds of equipment that is lost on me. “And I don’t want to get in the way.”
“You’re not in the way,” Noah says as he and the others take the babies out of the carrier one at a time. They put a tag around an ankle of each, check them over, then Justin moves them to another area to hand-feed them.
“What is he feeding them?” I ask.
“Do you get squeamish?” Justin asks.
“Not usually.” My voice is full of caution, but Justin waves me over, and I watch as he feeds the babies mealworms. The owlets are so dang cute, opening their mouths as wide as they can, reaching up for their dinner.
“They’re hungry little fellas,” Justin says.
“They look like little balls of cotton with heads,” I say and laugh. “They’re so cute.”