The Defender

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.