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“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.”
