Eye of the Falcon (Psychic Visions #12)(30)

As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she felt a shiver deep inside. She stepped back off the small deck, back into her room. She closed and locked the door. Walking to the window, she called for Roash to come in.

But there was no flood of wings. She stood with the window open ever-so-slightly and took a few steps to the bed. Just as she was to sit down, she realized she should do a bathroom trip first. When she got back to the bed, she pulled off one of her socks and took a good long look at her feet. They felt sore, but she’d managed to walk. That was huge.

The bed needed straightening. Then, as she sat down once more, that same odd cry came again. Only this time it was muffled. Too curious to ignore, she got up and walked back out on the deck. And there stood Eagle. Talking to what appeared to be a blue heron. She studied it in amazement. Blue herons were hardly inland birds. They always clung to rivers, streams, wetlands. Normally a fish-eating bird, she wondered if Eagle had a lake or river around here with a constant source of food for the heron.

She watched as he placed a bucket in front of the heron, who immediately dipped down and pulled out a fish. He threw his head back and swallowed it whole. She watched as it slowly slid down his long neck. The bird stood at least four feet high. It was a darn impressive sight.

She smiled, absolutely loving the interaction. This place was special. How unusual was the man who cared for the birds. Most were predators, which required a special diet. Mice, hatched chicks, fish, and the odd chunk of meat would be needed, depending on the different species. She wanted to go out and talk to him. But, at the same time, she felt an odd, creepy feeling of being watched. She stepped back into the doorway. As she did so, Eagle spun, and his gaze pinned her in place. A look of surprise whispered across his features. Then he smiled. She gave him a shy small finger wave, stepped inside, and closed the door.

She was sure of one thing. Eagle was a good man.

She also knew someone—or something—was watching the property. And, although there had been something animalistic about this, she wouldn’t have said it was threatening. Yet, a definite menace hung in the air.

Back in bed she found a bottle of cream on the night table. She studied the label. It was an antiseptic cream. She smoothed it all over the soles of her feet and would let them dry before putting her socks on again. She still didn’t know where Eagle’s property was located, but there’d been such a chill to the air outside that she figured the altitude of his property had to be higher than at her cabin. Had fall weather descended on them?

She’d lost track of time long ago. Five weeks since her mother’s death? Definitely fall then. That was one hell of a long time that she basically didn’t remember. As she did recall the torturous days and nights, she was damn lucky to have landed here. Even now thankfulness invaded her very soul.

She was barely under the blankets when she heard Eagle’s footsteps at the front porch. She really wanted to see the rest of the house, but she was too tired and sore for more walking. And going outside was out of the question, especially now that the house was being watched.

He was at her doorway within minutes. “It was good to see you up,” he said quietly. That gaze of his never missed anything. He studied her face, seeing the fatigue. He saw her feet partially out of the blanket, the evidence of the cream glistening on her soles. “How was it to walk?”

“Not as painful as I expected. Yet, I won’t be running marathons anytime soon.”

“You think you’ll run one later? That would be worth seeing.” He grinned. “Do you feel like having breakfast at the table?”

“I’d love to, but I just put some cream on my feet.”

“Put the socks back on and walk carefully so you don’t slip.”

She nodded and sat up. “Did you see where Roash went?” she asked anxiously. “I let him out this a little bit ago.”

Eagle shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry about him though. He seems to have a pretty good instinct for what’s important.”

“I gather it was feeding time at the zoo?”

“Actually, yes.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, I can see that. That is the hard thing about keeping raptors. For them to live, another animal has to die.”

He nodded. “I supplement with fish and any roadkill I can. But nothing takes away from the fact these birds need live food most of the time.”

“I’ve known several big raptor rescue centers that incubate eggs. Doing a constant rotation of hundreds of incubating eggs at a time seems like the most economical answer.”

“I do that too. And somehow it makes it slightly easier.”

She nodded with understanding. “I know. Nice to keep mice. I found that very difficult though.” While talking, she put on the socks, and, with a hand on the headboard, she stood. She shook her head. “What is it about actually standing on your own two feet that makes the world suddenly a whole much easier place to live in?”

“We’re meant to be on our feet.”

“So true.” As he watched, she took several hesitant steps toward him. “Did you feel it out there?”

“Feel what?” His tone never changed; his gaze never left her progress.

“You know what.”

He lifted his dark-chocolate-colored eyes to study her face. Then gave a quick nod. “Yes, I felt it.”

“Did you see anyone?”