“Pleasure to meet you,” I say and smile. I’m quickly shocked to find myself wrapped in a tight hug by Nancy. She pats my back and pulls away with a smile of her own.
They’re a friendly family, that’s for sure.
“How did you find these guys?” Noah asks as he takes a big pet carrier out of the back of his truck.
“Until about five minutes ago, they were in the middle of the highway,” Jeff says, helping Noah herd them into the carrier.
“I shooed them to the shoulder,” Nancy says. “What are they?”
“Owlets,” Noah replies with a smile. “And if they’re out here alone, their mama is probably not doing well.”
“We haven’t seen a mama,” Nancy says, and I immediately feel my eyes fill.
Poor babies.
“I’ll get these guys loaded on the truck and take a quick look around,” Noah says as Jeff continues helping him load the owlets into the back of the truck. Then we all set off on foot, up and down the highway, looking for the mama.
“What kind of owl would it be?” I ask.
“I think they’re grey owls,” Noah says. “But when they’re that little, there are a couple of possibilities. I think we’ll know her when we see her.”
I nod and hike off the highway a bit, keeping my eyes open, grateful that I wore my hiking shoes rather than my flip-flops.
“Noah!” Jeff calls, catching all our attention. “Over here!”
Noah reaches Jeff’s side first, his face grim.
“Damn,” Noah says with a sigh. “She didn’t make it.”
“I can’t look,” I say, shaking my head as Nancy slips her hand into mine and we wait back by the road. “I’m sorry, I just can’t bear it.”
“I understand,” Nancy says. “The hardest part about living on the ranch all these years is seeing the animals hurt.”
I look over at her and smile softly. Nancy is a lovely woman in her sixties with laugh lines by her eyes and only a touch of grey in her hair.
“Do you still live on the ranch? Is it the Lazy K Ranch?”
“Oh, yes,” she says. “We’re retired now, and our sons Josh and Zack run the ranch, but Jeffrey won’t ever leave it. Noah’s parents, Susan and Doug, moved down to Arizona a few years ago for the winters, but I don’t think I could talk Jeff into that. And to be honest, I’m okay with that. The winters don’t bother me much.”
“You’re a close family,” I say, watching Noah and Jeff talk to each other where the owl is.
“Very,” she says with a smile and looks over at me, a frown forming between her brows. “What about you, Fallon?”
“I don’t have family,” I reply easily and grin reassuringly. “It’s not a sad story, and I’m fine. It’s just interesting to me when I meet a large, close-knit family.”
“Well, you’re welcome at the Lazy K anytime.”
Noah and Jeff make their way over to us.
“Are you going to bury her?” I ask.
“No,” Noah says with a frown. “She’ll be taken care of by other critters, just the way it should be in the wild.”
“Circle of life,” I mutter, thinking it over. I’ve never thought about it being so sad before.
“Do you know what killed her?” Nancy asks.
“I think she was probably hit by a truck,” Noah says with a sigh. “Poor thing. But we have the babies, and we’ll take care of them.”
“I know you will,” Nancy says proudly. “Our Noah is a talented zoologist.”
“She has to say that because she loves me,” Noah says and winks.
“And because it’s true,” Nancy says as we walk toward our vehicles.
“I spoke with Doug the other day,” Jeff says. “He said he and your mom should be here by next weekend. They’re usually home by now.”
“I know, but Mom joined a book club, and she wanted to be there for their meeting tonight,” Noah says with a laugh. “They’re going to stay a month longer to make up for it.”
“Well, I think we should all have a barbecue at the ranch,” Nancy says. “The family hasn’t all gotten together in too long.”
“I’m always game for that,” Noah says. “As long as you make your apple pie for dessert.”
“I think something can be arranged.” Nancy turns to me, flashing me a bright smile. “You should come, too.”
“Oh, but it’s a family—”
“I’ll bring her,” Noah says, and that seems to be the end of that. We say our goodbyes and drive back to the sanctuary. “Do you want me to drop you at the house?”
“No, I want to see what happens next,” I reply, excited to see Noah in action. Something tells me if I was attracted to him before, watching him work will be fascinating.
It’s late enough in the day that all of the summer volunteers have left, but a woman and a man meet us, both anxious to help Noah get the owlets off the truck and inside.
“This is Veronica and Justin,” Noah says.
“Call me Roni,” Veronica says with a smile. “And nice to meet you.”
“I’m Fallon,” I reply, following them into a building behind the main office where there are stainless steel tables and all kinds of equipment that is lost on me. “And I don’t want to get in the way.”
“You’re not in the way,” Noah says as he and the others take the babies out of the carrier one at a time. They put a tag around an ankle of each, check them over, then Justin moves them to another area to hand-feed them.
“What is he feeding them?” I ask.
“Do you get squeamish?” Justin asks.
“Not usually.” My voice is full of caution, but Justin waves me over, and I watch as he feeds the babies mealworms. The owlets are so dang cute, opening their mouths as wide as they can, reaching up for their dinner.
“They’re hungry little fellas,” Justin says.
“They look like little balls of cotton with heads,” I say and laugh. “They’re so cute.”
“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 offe
r.
“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.”
I grin and sip my coffee. “I didn’t appreciate it as much as I do now.”
Our voices are hushed as if to talk too loudly would wake up the world, and we want to keep it just for us.
“Did it always look like this?”
“Yes.” I sigh, stretching my legs out in front of me and enjoying the cool air. “Are you too cold?”
“No, it’s nice. It’ll get hot again this afternoon.”
I nod and sip my coffee. She’s not wrong. One thing I love about living in the mountains is even though it does get hot during the day, we cool down nicely at night.
“When I was a kid, we had horses out here,” I begin, picturing the way it looked when I was a boy. “We were a much smaller version of the Lazy K. My dad didn’t want the responsibility of a big ranch like that and didn’t love living out there the way Jeff does. So, when he decided to settle in Cunningham Falls, he and my mom bought this property where he was still out of town, could have a few animals, but not the rough, working-ranch life.”
“What did you have besides horses?” Fallon rests her chin on her knees, watching me instead of the sunrise. I can suddenly picture doing this with her every morning for years, which is completely new to me, and not unsettling, so I set it aside and focus on her question.
“Chickens,” I reply. “And I got to collect eggs every morning before school. I hated it in the winter.”
“I’ve never had farm-fresh eggs.”
My gaze whips to hers in surprise. “I’ll get some from Nancy for you. They’re delicious. We always had a dog and some cats running around. Over where the sanctuary is now, there used to be a big barn with some equipment, but Dad sold the equipment, and I remodeled the barn to be the flying building. It’s the tall, brown building in the back.”
As if she’s hanging on every word, her gaze follows my hand as I point out the things I mention.
“Would you ever want horses again?”
“No,” I reply immediately. “I love to ride, but they’re a lot of work, and I have too much to do at the sanctuary.”
“Makes sense,” she murmurs. “No dogs or cats now, I see.”
“There is a cat that roams around the sanctuary. A resident cat, I guess. We named him Shithead.”
She snorts.
“And I had a dog until a couple of years ago. He passed away, and I haven’t thought about getting another, but I might be close to ready.”
“I’ve never had a pet,” she says, surprising me.
“Nothing? Not even a hamster?”
“No.” She sips her tea, and I wait. I know she doesn’t give up information easily, but I want to know more, and I’m learning that it just takes a little time.
I set my empty mug aside and lean back, enjoying the view of the sunrise and the beautiful woman beside me.
“I lived in the city,” she begins, and I feel my lips twitch. Yeah, it just takes a little time. “And having a dog would have been a pain because we didn’t have a backyard, and I wasn’t allowed to walk the neighborhood alone.”
So, she lived in a rough neighborhood.
“My parents, well, they weren’t really around much. I never met my father, and before you say you’re sorry, don’t be. From what I’ve heard, he was no prize. My mom was in and out here and there, but she never stuck around for long. The last I heard, she was living in Texas somewhere with a guy. I honestly don’t care.
“My grandma raised me, and I was close to her. We were a team. But there wasn’t room in the budget for a cat or anything, and I never really craved one. I guess you don’t miss what you’ve never had.”
She clears her throat and looks over at me. “Go on.”
“That’s it, really.”
I doubt that.
“How long has your grandmother been gone?”
“Oh, gosh, six years I guess.” She sets her empty mug aside and wraps her arms around her legs, holding them close to her chest.
The woman is fucking flexible.
“And you were an accountant?”
A smile tips the corners of her lips. “Yeah. I hated it. I went to school for it because I figured I’d always have a stable job that way, and I was right. I worked in a good firm in Chicago, and by the time I left, I was the head of my department.”
“What happened?”
“Grandma died,” she says simply. “And when I returned to work after settling her affairs, I couldn’t help but think it wasn’t what she would have wanted for me. To go to a job every day that was sucking the life out of me. She did that her whole life, and I knew she didn’t want it for me.
“So, I handed in my resignation, sold most of my things, including Grandma’s apartment, and I’ve been a nomad ever since. I have a bucket list of places I’d like to live, and I stay for as long as I’m happy, and then I move on. I studied yoga, fell in love with it, and thankfully, I’m able to teach wherever I go.”
“So, Cunningham Falls isn’t necessarily where you plan to set down roots.”
It’s not a question, and for reasons I’m not ready to examine, it pisses me off.
“I hadn’t planned to, no.”
“But?”
“But.” She sighs deeply, ju
st as the sun peeks over the top of the mountain. “I’ve been here the longest, and when I think of moving on, it makes me sad.”
“So don’t move on. At least, not yet.”
“I don’t plan to,” she replies with a soft smile, then sobers. “Is this odd to you, that we’re starting something while I’m staying with you? Should we back off and wait for my living arrangements to get figured out? Because we are starting something. I can’t be the only one to feel it.”
“You’re not,” I assure her. “We’re starting something. And we’re not backing off. I’ll take things as slow as you like, Fallon. We’re in no hurry, and I’m not a jerk who thinks you need to sleep with me if you’re staying here. So, if you made your move yesterday because of that—”
“No.” Her voice is firm, maybe leaning toward mad. “I made my move because I find you attractive and I wanted to climb on top of you.”
“Understood.” I grin. “And appreciated.”
“I think you’re the kind of guy who doesn’t pull any punches,” she continues.
“I’d say you’re right.”
“And I’m the same. I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“Do you want to back off?” I ask and watch her face closely, the way her plump lips pucker, and frown lines form between her brows as she thinks it over.
I appreciate that she’s thinking and not just reacting.
God, she’s fantastic.
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t. I’m fine with where we are.”
“Good.” I stand and hold out my hand for hers. “Now, let’s go feed your eagle.”
“Perfect.”
* * * *
“I can’t believe you’ve never been to the farmer’s market,” Fallon says later that evening as she drives us both into town in her Jeep. We have to go to the edge of town where Frontier Park is. “I mean, I’m new here, and I go all the time.”
“I just never had a reason to,” I reply and grin, enjoying the way the wind brushes the loose strands of hair that fell out of her ponytail over her cheek.
“You’re going to love it,” she assures me.
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