Wingspan

by Karis Walsh

  Ken couldn’t argue with that. Her mind constantly replayed Bailey’s movements, the way her talented hands had tended to the injured osprey. Ken hadn’t only observed Bailey, but she couldn’t get her out of her mind. So it was best to keep her out of sight. She had given in once, and she didn’t think she could handle doing it again. “I don’t want to spread myself too thin, so I’m not doing good work—”

  “Have you wondered why a firm that designs static buildings is called Impetus?” Joe interrupted her. “Think about it sometime. Ken, I believe you have passion inside you. I saw it in those nine houses you hid in the back of your portfolio, and I saw a hint of it today when you were talking about your experience with the bird. But there isn’t a sign of it in the work you’ve done professionally before coming here. This project is small compared to our regular work, but it will give me a chance to see what you can do when inspired. Don’t think of it as a test…well, yes, think of it as a test. Find what moves you, Ken, and follow it without fear.”

  Yeah, right. Without fear. As if her job didn’t rely on the outcome. Ken had wanted to get out of the project because she didn’t want to work so closely with Bailey, because she didn’t have the time to devote to volunteer work when she was consumed by work and her long commute and when she was afraid she didn’t have the fresh and creative concepts her new boss expected her to produce. Now, she realized her position at Impetus depended on the work she did at Bailey’s center. Great.

  “I’ll get to work on the plans tonight,” she said. She felt defeated. One more stressful hurdle to cross in order to keep a job she didn’t want. Add prolonged contact with Dougie at this afternoon’s team meeting, and she’d be surprised if she made it through the ferry ride home without jumping overboard.

  “Good. I’ll put together a packet of info about the budget and the university’s needs. Stop by my office for it before you leave tonight.”

  Ken nodded and left the conference room. Joe had said to find what moved her. Bailey moved her, but in uncomfortable ways Ken didn’t want to examine too closely. She was attractive, yes, but not the type of woman Ken needed. Plus, she was overbearing and intense as she overcompensated for an undefined yet undeniable vulnerability that tugged at Ken’s long-dormant need to protect. Ken didn’t have a chance of impressing Joe unless she got Bailey’s approval of the new building, and after hearing Bailey’s conversation the other day, Ken knew she wouldn’t be easy to please. Her boss expected fresh and innovative ideas, but Bailey would resist any sort of change. Ken had no idea how she’d please them both without giving in to the dangerous urge to get more emotionally involved with Bailey and her secrets, but she had to focus on her own house, her land. The dream—no matter how distant the reality—of having her own place made the momentary struggle worthwhile. Home. That was what moved her.

  Chapter Eight

  After answering the gate’s buzzer, Bailey stood at the window with her hands wrapped around a mug of cappuccino and watched an unfamiliar and battered VW Jetta, not Ken’s Corvette, come up the driveway. Another bird and not another disturbing visit from Ken, thank goodness. As much as Bailey enjoyed letting her mind wander at times, she didn’t need the reality of Ken intruding on her life. Bailey had been left feeling too raw after Ken’s last visit. Ken had seemed to understand Bailey—her distress over WSU’s intrusion and her overwhelming connection to her land. Being understood might be comforting to some people, but to Bailey it meant she had let Ken get too dangerously close to her, to see things better kept private. Showing people what she loved, how much she cared, meant giving them weapons they could use to hurt her at her deepest level. She’d been weak for a moment but had worked to shore up her defenses since then.

  Unfortunately, she’d had too much time alone to think, since the week after Ken had come had been relatively slow for the center. Two people had brought songbirds to her, both in shoe boxes and both stunned after hitting a window. Bailey had given her standard lecture about keeping a stunned bird safe from predators while letting it have time to recover, but only one of the men had listened. He had taken the little chickadee back to his house and called her a few hours later to say the bird had regained consciousness and flown away. The other guy had only wanted to drop off the wren and be done with it. Bailey had put the nondescript brown bird in a sheltered spot in her yard, and soon it had woken up and disappeared into the brush behind her house. Both results were successful, and she had one more lovely voice serenading her from the bushes. A good week. Simple and positive.

  So why had she found herself longing for the complexity and inscrutability of Ken’s company?

  Hopefully, today’s case would be just as easy as the others. She answered her door before the person outside could knock and found a woman in her twenties standing on the porch, wearing low-rise jeans and a sweatshirt with the WSU cougar on it. Her blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she wore glasses with heavy silver frames.

  “Can I help you?” Bailey asked.

  “I’m Danielle Lawrence. Your summer intern.” She shifted her maroon backpack to her left shoulder and held out her right hand.

  Bailey stared at Danielle’s hand for a moment before she reached out and shook it. “I haven’t picked an intern yet,” she said, in case Danielle misconstrued her handshake as an endorsement or binding contract of some sort.

  “Dean Carrington said you’ve been busy with the renovations and preparing for your seminar, so he wanted to help out. He chose me because I’ve done some volunteer work in a wildlife rehab center before. And I live close-by, so I can commute. I’m really excited to have this opportunity to work with you, Dr. Chase.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Bailey waved off the sweet talk. So Dean Carrington had gone behind her back and assigned an intern to her? And apparently he was too much of a coward to tell her himself, but instead sent this young woman to break the news. Bailey had hoped she’d be able to put off having an intern until next year if she kept delaying her decision making. Apparently she had been wrong. Her resolve to do whatever it took to help the center flourish—a resolve made more firm while talking to Ken—faltered in the face of a real live intruder.

  “Can I come in?” Danielle asked, shifting her backpack again.

  “Oh, okay,” Bailey said. She motioned toward the couch. “Have a seat.”

  Danielle dropped her backpack on the couch and went over to the osprey’s cage. He’d settled in quickly, moving step-by-step toward release.

  “Wow, he’s beautiful,” Danielle said. “Broken wing?”

  “Yes, I think he was hit by a car.” Bailey wanted to stand between Danielle and the cage, to protect the osprey, but she stayed still. Although Danielle spoke quietly and didn’t go too close to the cage, Bailey watched her patient for any sign of distress. The osprey seemed fine, but Bailey felt her own anxiety rise at the thought of entertaining Danielle for the entire summer. She had been intimidated by the prospect of spending two hours a day with students during a two-week seminar. How was she supposed to carry on entire days’ worth of conversation with this stranger?

  “What’s his prognosis?”

  “Good,” Bailey admitted. She had been careful about being overly optimistic since she had been disappointed too many times before, but the osprey seemed to be recovering well. Even now, he was calm while she felt prickly with the need to defend her space. Her visit with Ken had proved she was too susceptible to spending time with someone sympathetic. Either she wouldn’t be able to think of anything to say to Danielle, or she’d start sharing personal information. Being alone was much easier.

  “Will you need to overwinter him?” Danielle seemed undeterred by Bailey’s short answers. She left the osprey’s cage and walked over to the couch.

  “Probably.” The osprey wouldn’t be healed soon enough to be released before autumn. Since he wouldn’t be strong enough to migrate, Bailey would keep him in one of her flight cages until the following spring.

  “I’d love to see
your flight cages,” Danielle said. “Unless you have something else you need me to do now?”

  “Oh, um…I’m not sure,” Bailey said with a frown. She had convinced herself she wouldn’t have an intern this year, so she hadn’t planned any inconsequential tasks to keep one busy. Can you make me a grilled-cheese sandwich for lunch? Empty the dishwasher? “I have an owlet that needs to be fed. You can watch, if you want to.”

  Danielle smiled brightly. “Great! I love owls.”

  Bailey took a small step back from the force of Danielle’s enthusiasm. “Okay, then. I’ll go prepare his food. Be right back.”

  Danielle interpreted this statement as permission to follow Bailey into the kitchen. She watched while Bailey made the owlet’s meal, asking question after question until Bailey wanted to walk out the door and into the woods for some peace and quiet. She figured Danielle would just follow her, anyway, so she stayed put and did her best to answer. Danielle said she had been chosen because of her experience and where she lived, but Bailey quickly learned she was also very intelligent. Maybe a little too smart. She seemed to have a strong base of knowledge about both rehabbing and raptors. Bailey would have her hands full keeping Danielle occupied without letting her get involved in caring for the birds. They were Bailey’s responsibility.

  Bailey walked to the bathroom with Danielle trailing behind. She had a ridiculous desire to hurry inside and lock the door, but Danielle was too close on her heels. This was Bailey’s inner sanctum. Not so much a private place for her, but a safe haven for the fragile and easily disturbed youngster. She felt as fierce and protective as any mother would feel, and she was prepared to evict Danielle at the first sign of trouble. She knelt on the bathroom floor with Danielle close beside her and was relieved that the owlet’s appetite didn’t seem to be suffering due to his doubled audience. Unfortunately, she wasn’t nearly as unruffled since her mind and body remembered being in this same position with the spicy scent and electric feel of Ken close beside her.

  Danielle quietly watched the feeding process for a few minutes. “Can I try?” she asked, taking the tweezers out of Bailey’s hand before she could protest. The traitorous owlet greedily accepted food from Danielle. If he had shown any sign of hesitation, Bailey would have had an excuse to dismiss her intern, but he didn’t seem to care who held his meal, as long as he was on the receiving end. Bailey hugged her knees to her chest and took over the role of onlooker. She had been too distracted by thoughts of Ken to keep up her guard.

  “Will he be able to go in the flight cage soon?” Danielle asked, her eyes on the small ball of feathers she was feeding.

  “No. A friend who runs a rehab center near Olympia is coming tomorrow to take him. She has two barred owls about his age, so he’ll be introduced to them. He needs to be with other nestlings of the same species.”

  When the owlet had eaten his fill, Danielle followed Bailey when she returned to the kitchen. She offered to wash the bowl and tweezers, and Bailey gave up that responsibility happily enough.

  The small dishwashing chore took up all of one minute, but Bailey needed to keep Danielle occupied long enough for her to call Dean Carrington. He had hired Danielle, so it was his job to fire her. Until then, Bailey needed to find something harmless for her to do. Luckily, a quick scan of the kitchen gave her several ideas.

  “These towels and blankets need to be washed,” Bailey said. She pointed at a pile spilling out of the laundry room. “I use them for bedding in the cages,” she added, in case Danielle mistakenly thought she was doing Bailey’s personal chores.

  One assignment made, but there would be plenty of downtime during the washing and drying cycles. Bailey separated a stack of notebooks from the pile of paperwork on her table. “And these treatment notes have to be entered into this ledger, exactly as written. They’re cross-referenced by bird and by number. My handwriting isn’t neat, so ask if you have any questions.”

  “Great!” Danielle’s voice was as enthusiastic as if she’d been handed tickets to a concert instead of a mountain of work. “I’ll get started.”

  Bailey was starting to wonder if she’d been too hasty in her decision to get Danielle fired. The monotonous chores took up a huge part of her day, and she had more important work waiting to fill the newly freed-up time. Like cleaning the flight cages.

  Bailey busied herself in the outdoor cages for over an hour before she heard another car coming up the drive, reminding her that in her confusion over Danielle’s disruptive arrival, she hadn’t closed the gate again. Two visitors in one day. Exhausting.

  She carefully latched the cage door behind her and paused when she saw Ken getting out of her car, a large sketch pad in her hand. Bailey walked over to meet her. To send her away. Anything to keep from losing her composure again. She’d let Ken see how upset she was over the dean’s call last week, and Ken had somehow known the right things to say and had steered the conversation so Bailey found the answers and comfort she had needed. All very nice, but not something she could rely on. She’d be left on her own to face life when Ken got tired of visiting the osprey and moved on, and Bailey needed to stay focused and not allow herself to get used to Ken’s companionship.

  “Why are you here? Are you planning to draw the osprey?” she asked.

  “No. I’d love to see him if you think I won’t be disruptive, but I’m here about something else. Can we go inside and talk?”

  “Oh, okay,” Bailey said. Not the most hospitable response, but it seemed all she was capable of offering today.

  Ken followed Bailey into the house and went directly to the osprey. He was center stage in the room, something powerful and awe-inspiring in the midst of shabbiness. Ken slowly approached the mesh cage where the bird, his wing in a light bandage, was sitting in one corner, perched on a limb set low enough for him to hop on without needing to fly. Bailey watched Ken walk closer until she noticed the bird tense up as if ready to move. She was about to tell Ken to stop, but Ken took half a step back on her own and watched him from a distance.

  “He looks great,” she said to Bailey. “He seems content in his new home.”

  “He’s doing well,” Bailey said. His yellow eyes were bright and clear, and his body language was alert and active. Even after all he’d been through, there was nothing listless or dull about him. Bailey had been watching him—partly because he was connected to Ken, and Ken had never been far from her mind, but also because his mere presence was something of a miracle. How easily this feathered soul might have been lost if Ken hadn’t stepped in to help. “He’s lucky you found him.” Bailey swallowed around a suddenly tight throat. She was accustomed to sending out thoughts of gratitude to the people who helped her save birds, but she rarely had chances to thank people face-to-face. “And that you cared enough to bring him here. He wouldn’t have survived long the way he was.”

  A grounded bird, on the edge of a wooded area. Bailey shut out the images of the osprey’s fate if he had been left there alone. She was glad when Ken turned away from the cage.

  “I just did what anyone in my situation would have done,” she said.

  Danielle appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen. She was holding one of Bailey’s notebooks in her hand.

  “Ken, this is Danielle, from WSU,” Bailey said. She wasn’t about to introduce her as an intern when she hadn’t yet decided whether Danielle was going to stay. “Danielle, this is Ken. She’s the one who rescued the osprey.”

  “Nice to meet you, and please, call me Dani.” She came over to shake Ken’s hand. “Awesome job with the osprey. He’s beautiful. I hope I’ll be able to help with his rehabilitation while I’m here.”

  “Thanks, Dani. I’m proud of him,” Ken said. “Do you work with Dr. Chase?”

  “Yes, as of today,” Danielle said. “I’m a student at WSU, but this is my summer job.”

  “I’m sure she’ll keep you busy.”

  “Laundry and paperwork, so far,” Danielle said with an easy smile. “The exciting l
ife of an intern. But I did get to feed an owlet earlier.”

  “Really? I got to watch the disgusting process, but I wasn’t allowed to participate.” Ken winked at Bailey. “Not that I wanted to take part…”

  Bailey watched the interchange between the two as Ken asked about the baby owl and Dani recounted her feeding experience, making it sound much more interesting than Bailey remembered it. She envied the easy way Ken had with someone she’d just met. Bailey had been struggling to come up with complete sentences to use with Dani, and she had a shared interest with the vet student. Ken didn’t seem to need the common bond to be able to converse as if she and Dani were old friends. Even if Bailey had been warned about her imposed intern’s arrival ahead of time, and had written down topics to cover, she wouldn’t have been able to chat with her like Ken did.

  “Did you have a question, Danielle?” she asked, when there was a brief pause in the conversation.

  “Oh, yes,” Dani said. She held out the notebook and pointed to a paragraph. “This entry doesn’t have a number.”

  Bailey scanned the short treatment note. She could picture the raptor that had spent only a few days at her center before being released. The falcon’s injuries had been minor, and she hadn’t required much care beyond transport to a safe release site. “A peregrine falcon. She was here in the beginning of April, so you should be able to find a form with her number in the filing cabinet next to the sink. They’re filed by species, and then by date.”

  When Dani had left the room, Ken sat down on the couch. She crossed her legs and leaned back, as if she felt at home here. She was wearing creased black jeans and a green pin-striped shirt, and Bailey couldn’t tell if she’d come from work or from a day off. Either way, even in casual clothes, Ken managed to look comfortable and composed. Her elegance made Bailey feel even more out of sorts in comparison, and she perched on the edge of a chair next to the couch.