Soaring with Fallon (Big Sky 4)

“That cotton will turn into feathers,” Justin says. “Here, do you want to feed them?”

“Can I?”

“Sure.” He passes me the tweezers he’s been using to grip the worms, and I feed the babies as Noah brings them to us.

“Oh, you’re so cute,” I coo to the owlets, who squawk and eat, filling their bellies. “I’m so glad Nancy and Jeff found them.”

“Me, too,” Roni says. “They would have died overnight.”

“But you’re going to be okay,” I assure them. “Because Noah and Roni and Justin are going to take care of you.”

I feel Noah step up behind me, and I look back to smile at him.

“Can I come feed them sometimes?” I ask.

“Whenever you like,” he replies. We wash our hands, leaving Roni and Justin to finish. “Do you want to check on your eagle?”

“Yes,” I reply immediately. “How is he?”

“Since yesterday? About the same.” He chuckles as he leads me to another building and down the line of cages to my eagle’s pen. “Oh, but he knows you.”

“Yeah, he does. Hi, boy.” The eagle watches me intently. “How do you feel today? Still a little rough?”

“He’ll be okay. If you want to come feed him tomorrow morning, you can. Unless you have an early class.”

“I always have an early class,” I murmur. “But I’ll come before.” I turn to the eagle. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Noah leads me to his truck, and I feel like I’ve been hit by a semi. It’s been a long day.

“Thanks for your help,” Noah says as he starts the vehicle.

“It was fun.” I lean my head back. The drive to his house is less than a minute long, but my eyes are heavy. I didn’t get as much sleep last night as I’m used to, and after this day, I’m exhausted.

“Are you asleep?”

My eyes blink open, surprised to be parked at Noah’s house with him standing in the open passenger door, leaning over me to lift me into his arms.

“I can walk,” I offer.

“No need.” He kicks the door shut and kisses my forehead as he carries me up the porch steps and inside. “You’re wrecked, Fal.”

“No one’s ever called me that before,” I say with a sleepy sigh. “But I kind of like it.”

“Tell me if you don’t,” he says and lowers me to my bed.

“I’m not shy,” I assure him and yawn widely. “But I’m suddenly so tired.”

“Get some rest.” He kisses my forehead again, and I sigh. I’m getting way too used to the forehead kisses that Noah likes to hand out. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

I can’t keep my eyes open. So, I let sleep pull me under.

Chapter Five

~Noah~

The sun isn’t up yet. It’s five in the morning, and I’m shuffling around the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise and wake Fallon. I place my mug under the Keurig, and as my coffee brews, I pull the new tea I bought for my houseguest out of the cabinet and set it on the counter next to an electric hot water kettle.

I take my black coffee out onto the back deck and sit on one of the old chairs that have been here for as long as I can remember. All of the furniture in the house is mine, but my parents left their outside things, not needing them in Arizona.

The old chairs are solid, only needing new cushions every few years.

The woods beyond the house, where the bear roamed off to yesterday, are dark, but the sky is purple with the beginnings of the sunrise.

Stars still wink in the sky, and the moon gets ready to set behind me.

Fallon never stirred after I tucked her into bed. She was clearly exhausted. She had a busy few days, with losing her home and moving in here, and everything else that happened. Of course, she was tired.

I wanted to lie with her, to lose myself in her and soak her in, but only a jerk goes where he’s not invited. And despite our fun time on my couch yesterday, I’m not invited.

Not yet.

The sliding door behind me opens, and the woman who’s occupied most of my thoughts for days pads out onto the deck, barefoot.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

I glance over and smile. Fallon’s still in her shorts and tank from yesterday, but she’s holding a steaming mug of tea.

“I don’t mind at all,” I reply softly as she sits in the chair next to mine, tugs her feet up under her the way she always does, and quietly sips from her cup.

We sit in silence for long minutes, listening to the crickets and watching the sky wake up, a riot of orange and purple now, changing by the second as the sun creeps closer and closer to the tops of the mountains in the distance.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place more beautiful than this,” she whispers, taking in the show. “And you got to grow up here.”