Joe mentally compared the two. Janet had a deeply lined face with pockmarks caused by a meth habit. Her blue eyes were wild-looking, as if she teetered on the edge of insanity. Joe wondered if mother and daughter were in touch with one another. Evidence indicated they probably were, but it was up to him to prove it. He pulled himself out of his reverie and offered her a slight smile. “Eddie’s license allowed me to work with all his eagles. I’m sure you could allow me to work with that golden eagle down there?” He pointed toward Sam’s mew.
“Absolutely, I do have an eagle license,” Katie said. “Come on, let me show you my raptors.”
She was part child, part woman, and as she walked down the clean concrete aisle between the mews, Joe couldn’t harden his heart against her. Somehow, he’d have to remain immune to Katie’s charisma. Most importantly, he had to pass the tests he knew she’d put him through. Raptors knew people far better than any human did, and sooner or later, Katie would invite him to hold and handle some of the raptors. Birds could pick up on the dark side of a human, and they would never relax on their gauntlet as a result. Instead, they’d move around or, worse, try to fly off their gauntlet to get away from the person. Joe silently prayed he could remain low-key, calm and able to fool even the raptors. If he couldn’t, Katie wouldn’t hire him.
CHAPTER THREE
“THIS IS OUR STAR, Sam, the golden eagle,” Katie said proudly.
Halting in front of the huge mew, Joe admired the curious eagle. “Eddie had two of them when I was training with him.” Sam cocked his head, his piercing yellow eyes on him. Joe wondered if Katie would ask him to handle the eagle, but he hoped not. Eagles were heavy, large and given to wanting things their own way. Who could blame them? They were the apex predator of the sky.
“That’s great to hear,” Katie said, smiling up at him. She liked the way Joe was studying Sam. There were earmark traits all falconers shared. They were laid-back and easygoing. Someone who was hyper or had a type A personality couldn’t work around these supersensitive raptors. A tense, stressed human affected the raptor adversely and it would refuse to sit quietly on the gauntlet. Frequently, the raptor would open its wings or try to fly away from upsetting energy. Joe had that quiet, calm demeanor Katie was looking for.
Joe looked across the aisle. “Is this a peregrine falcon?”
Katie walked over to the smaller mew. “Yes, this is Quest. She’s an endangered tundra peregrine falcon.” Pointing to the cage next to Quest, Katie added, “And this is a male tundra peregrine from the Arctic Circle area in Canada. We call him Harlequin. They’re both on loan to me as part of a broader Canadian breeding program to bring the tundra species back to that country.”
Joe nodded. Falconers often were part of global breeding programs from other countries, programs that would rescue a raptor species from near extinction. “Looks like those two are lovebirds.” He smiled a little.
“Actually, I’m going to be putting them together next week. It’s breeding season. As you know, peregrines mate for life. If I’m lucky, they’ll mate. Once the eyasses, or babies, are hatched and grown, a member of the Canadian Peregrine Foundation will fly down here and pick them up. Canada has lost most of its peregrines to the insecticide DDT.”
“It’s a worthy project,” Joe agreed, watching the pair who sat as close to one another as they could, the mew wire wall separating them. Clearly, they liked one another and that boded well for a successful pairing. In a stoop or dive, peregrine falcons had been clocked at two hundred and twenty miles an hour. They stunned their prey by striking it with speed. On the ground, the hapless bird’s spinal cord would be severed by the hawk’s sharp beak. Peregrines mainly hunted other birds such as ducks, pheasants and pigeons.
Joe glanced down at Katie. She was smiling, her eyes soft as she studied the pair of falcons. There was no question she loved her birds. “Do you have any other breeding-program raptors here?”
Rousing herself, Katie nodded. “Yes, let’s go down to the end on the left. “I have an African auger buzzard from South Africa.”
“Mmm, a red-tailed hawk in disguise?” Joe said teasingly. Although the name was different and the hawk was from Africa, it was from the red-tailed family. Each continent had similar species but their markings were different. As they walked over to the mew, Joe saw the hawk study him.
“This is Nar. He’s a male auger buzzard. The falcon society of Cape Town is sending over a female shortly. I’ve signed up for their breeding program and hope that we’ll be producing eyasses for them.”
The auger was a magnificent hawk, and Joe had never seen one of his kind before. “Do you use Nar in your shows?”
“Yes, but he’s a handful,” Katie warned. “He’s got a temperament more like a falcon.”
“Really?” Joe said, lifting his brows. “I handled a red-tailed at Eddie’s and he was a laid-back dude. What makes this auger different?”
Shrugging, Katie said, “I don’t know. When he first arrived and I started handling him, he was constantly flapping and trying to escape. I had to put him on a crèche line for a couple of months for fear he’d fly off and never come back. My mentor, Donna Pierce, said that in her experience, overseas raptors have a very different temperament from their American cousins.”
“Is Donna your teacher?”
Katie turned and studied his serious features. In some respects, Gannon reminded her of an intent eagle focused on his prey. “Yes, she’s actually my foster mother. She’s been a falconer all her life and she has an eagle license.” The words had slipped out and Katie bit her lower lip. She hadn’t meant to say anything about her past.
Joe noticed the sudden darkness cloud her gaze. He took the opportunity, having nothing to lose by asking the question. “Does your mother live here with you? Is she a friend of Iris Mason?”
Katie frowned. “Well...truth be known, I was given up at birth. I don’t know who my real mother is. I’ve been trying for years to get the state to open up the sealed records and tell me.” Pushing strands of hair off her brow, she said, “I grew up in a series of foster homes in Wyoming. And when I met Donna at sixteen, she saved my life. I wasn’t a stellar human being. I was pretty angry all the time. I got thrown into her falconry program as a last chance. Donna took me under her wing, figuratively speaking, and she taught me all she knows. We really bonded and Donna agreed to legally become my foster mother. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Lifting her hand, she gestured to the mews. “Donna does know Iris Mason and had approached her about helping me expand my facility. Iris agreed to build this facility for me and my raptors. She’s been a godsend.”
“I heard that Mrs. Mason donated this land to you.”
“Yes, she’s very ecologically oriented and wanted to help me expand the breeding programs.”
Joe smiled. “You were very fortunate to have a donor. Most falconers struggle all their lives to feed their raptors. The state and federal government don’t pay them a thing for all the good they do.” He saw Katie’s brow wrinkle, as if she were in pain of some kind. Could he really believe she didn’t know who her mother was? She sounded genuine, but who knew? And he wanted to ignore the pain he saw in her eyes. Pain over what? That she was lying to him? That she really knew that Janet Bergstrom was her mother? Joe couldn’t tell one way or another and it made him uncomfortable.
Katie walked quickly up toward the office area. “I’m very lucky. Iris has been a guardian angel to my raptors.” She wanted to forget she’d blurted out her sordid past. After all, Joe was a stranger applying for a job—why had she told him about her unknown mother? Mentally kicking herself, Katie knew why. Finding her mother had been her sole focus since she’d turned twelve years old. Why had the woman abandoned her? Did her mother not love her? Was she such an ugly baby her own mother had wanted nothing to do with