by Zoe Chant
Jamie swatted playfully at Mark’s shoulder, then quickly turned back to the tree.
“It’s not like The Ugly Duckling, okay? These birds are born weird-looking, and they grow up even weirder. So, before we start, safety briefing…”
She quickly went over the rules for buddy climbing. Mark, since he was so much heavier than she was, would climb up first, with Jamie behind. Mark would use the carabiners at his waist to clip on to the anchors she had knocked into the tree when she set up the crow’s-nest, and they would hold him up if he slipped. Jamie was attached to Mark by the climbing rope, so he’d hold her up if she slipped.
She didn’t mention that she’d hardly bothered to use the anchors until today. Oh, she’d set them up properly when she arrived, taking every precaution in the book. But that constant, restless itch that had been her constant companion since the wedding had made her too impatient to use them day-to-day.
Jamie stepped back as Mark began to climb.
“Where were we … Right. Ugly little birds, and I was their ugly mommy! It was amazing. I had only been there for two weeks, and my boss started training me to feed them. We used this puppet condor head, so that the chicks wouldn’t know it was humans looking after them and not a real Mommy Condor.”
“Wait.” Mark was frowning, as though he was trying to dig up something from deep in his memory. “Don’t birds feed their chicks by, uh, vomiting on them?”
“I wish!” Jamie cackled. “I would love to see how Chris—she made the puppets—how she would have put that together. No, condors eat carrion, so we just used the puppet to pick up bits of chopped meat and guts and feed it to the birdies.”
“That … Sounds exactly as gross as the vomiting thing. Sorry.”
Jamie snorted. “See, this is why I don’t tell guys this stuff. You are just so dainty.”
She looked across at Mark. He had stopped climbing. Had she offended him? He was anything but dainty, even though he was climbing the tree with the grace and ease of a far less heavyset man.
Mark cleared his throat. “Uh, do you often talk about feeding chopped guts to baby birds when you go on dates?”
Jamie’s mind cleared. Oh. She hadn’t offended him—he was just … Jealous?
The idea of Mark—tall, broad-shouldered, face-like-a-movie-star Mark—being jealous of any of her previous boyfriends almost made Jamie laugh. Then it sent a warm glow all through her body. She decided to put his mind at ease.
“Sure. If I ever went on any dates. It’s been just me and the condors for a few years now. Do you think I could have followed Coco and Louie out here if I was busy on the dating scene?”
“Anyone who was worth your time would have come with you.” Mark’s voice was dead serious.
A thrill of desire cut through Jamie like a knife. Mark had just said out loud what she had been telling herself for years—and had begun to think was a foolish dream.
Jamie’s previous boyfriends, through college and those first few awkward years of her working life, had been fine with her passion for conservation—but that was all. They hadn’t understood it, hadn’t supported it, hadn’t made the barest effort to know how important Jamie’s work was to her. Her dating experiences had made it clear to Jamie that a steady boyfriend would mean spending less time at the conservation center and less time in the field.
“Thank you,” she said softly. She wasn’t sure Mark had even heard her until he reached out one hand and gently touched her shoulder. She bit her lip.
Remember that you are hanging onto a tree twenty feet above the ground, she told herself sternly. Any attempt to jump his bones right now will end up in both of you going SPLAT.
“Come on,” she said quickly, her voice just slightly rough. “If we get up to that branch there, we’ll have a great view down the river to the condor nest.”
Jamie double-checked her harness as Mark climbed ahead of her.
Calm down, girl. You’re still not going to risk throwing yourself at him, no matter HOW secure those anchors are.
She clambered up to the crow’s-nest branch, carefully making sure she always had at least three touch points on the tree. Mark moved out of the way to let her sit on the solid branch.
“You don’t want to sit, too?”
Jamie twisted to look at him. She didn’t want him to tire himself out literally holding on to the tree with no support while they watched the birds. But he had found a secure perch, both feet firmly on a lower branch, with her own branch the perfect height for him to rest his arms against.
Right. One of the advantages of being tall—I couldn’t even reach this branch from where he’s standing!
She pulled out her pocket binoculars and held them out to him, and set up her camera as he focused on the distant cliff. Her zoom lens was as good as the binoculars, and this way, they could both look at the nest at once.
“Here. You see that cliff? About a fourth of the way up there’s a crack in the rock.”
“I see it. And the bird. Geez, you were right about it being ugly.”
“That’s our native wildlife for you. Some states get bald eagles, we get the actually bald bird.”
“Is that its nest? It looks more like a pile of twigs. Not even a pile. I count three twigs.”
Jamie giggled. “Don’t you know it’s rude to insult other people’s houses?”
“Three twigs and a handful of shed feathers counts as a house? No wonder these things are so endangered.”
“Condors don’t actually build nests like other birds. Those twigs must have just dropped down from the top of the cliff. It’s not like the egg is going to up and roll away,” Jamie joked. Then a horrible thought struck her. She hadn’t checked the nest herself before giving Mark the binoculars, after all. What if…?
She finished attaching the zoom lens and quickly raised the camera to her eyes. She waved the lens back and forth, trying to find the nest.
“No, I see it,” Mark said quickly, as though he had felt her sudden rush of fear. “Nice and safe under Mommy—or Daddy?”
“Could be either,” Jamie explained, and sighed with relief as she zeroed in on the nest. One bird, one egg. Phew. “They take turns keeping the egg warm, and male and female condors are pretty difficult to tell apart. Both adult birds have ring tags on their legs for ID, though, so if we can see … There! That’s Louie on the nest. Coco must be out hunting.”
She jotted down a few notes in a battered notebook. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mark looking up at her.
“You really love this, don’t you?” he said at last. “Not just the condors, but … The whole thing.”
“I do,” she admitted. “This part of it, especially. I mean, I love working back at the center, helping rehabilitate injured animals, raising the chicks, teaching schoolkids about conservation … But being out here in the mountains is something else.” She could feel a proud smile creeping over her face. “If that egg hatches, and the chick survives, then Coco and Louie will be the first California condors to successfully breed in these mountains in over fifty years. And I was part of the team that made it happen.”
She looked down at Mark. The man who had come out of nowhere and turned her life upside down. A wilderness-lover, like her.
And he seemed genuinely interested in her work. He actually cared.
Maybe that was why she had been so attracted to him, right from the start. Maybe something inside her had recognized that here was a kindred spirit, someone who could understand her. Someone who was as comfortable with the lack of creature comforts out here in the woods as she was.
Unfortunately, that was all pointless if they spent so much time in each other’s arms that she didn’t actually get any of her work done. They’d already proved how likely that was to happen.
She made up her mind.
“Mark,” she said quietly. “You said earlier that we need to talk. And we seriously do.”
“Up here?” Mark looked incredulous.
“Yes, up
here. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but whenever we try to talk when we’re on the ground, we end up, well, not doing much talking.” She sighed. “I’m counting on my sense of self-preservation to keep me from trying to jump your bones while we’re up here, but frankly, I’m not even sure how long that’ll work.”
Mark grimaced. “That’s fair enough. I feel as though being apart from you the last week has, I don’t know, concentrated things a bit. I’m sure it isn’t usually this intense.”
“Tell me about it. No offense, Mark, but you are the worst crush I’ve ever had.”
Mark opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again.
“About that…”
God, his voice was so sexy. Jamie found herself starting to babble, just to block it out.
“That’s—that’s why I need you to leave, after this. I’m not used to having anyone around, let alone someone as … distracting as you.” She grimaced. “I mean, today has been fantastic, but it’s all very … strange. Nice-strange, but still…”
“Still strange,” Mark completed. “I understand.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Really, I do. And I should tell you—”
Jamie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I’m not saying this to be mean, but if we could have this conversation without the compassionate touching, that would be appreciated.”
Mark pulled his hand back. “Understood,” he said, hurt clear in his voice.
Jamie cringed. But if she was going to hurt him either way, she might as well be completely up-front with him.
“To be honest, I’ve spent every day since the wedding trying to—well, trying to ignore what happened. But now that I’ve met you again, and you actually, you know, seem like a nice guy, I would like to spend more time with you. Just not here.” She spread her arms. “Not when we have to literally perch in a tree to keep from macking on each other. Not in the one place in the world where I have literally one thing to do, and it’s not you.”
Mark rested his chin on his hands. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and Jamie felt her stomach tighten, certain she’d offended him.
“I understand,” he said at last. “And … I don’t think there’s anything I can say that would make your decision any easier.”
Jamie twisted on the branch and looked town into his eyes. There were no hidden flickers of secrecy now—just honesty, and a deep compassion.
Remember that you are hanging onto a tree twenty feet above the ground, she told herself sternly. No make-outs allowed. Make-outs = SPLAT.
Then Mark blinked, and the sad compassion in his eyes was replaced by the familiar adventurous sparkle. He tipped his face up to hers.
“Though, if our self-control was the only issue, I have to say … we do have all these ropes…”
Jamie snorted with unladylike laughter. “That is too tempting in the absolutely wrong way, and you know it.”
He grinned wryly, and in the end, they both made it back to camp without any further distractions.
* * *
MARK
It didn’t take Mark long to pack. Actually, given he had never ended up unpacking anything, what with how the previous evening had gone, it took no time at all. He tried to spin cleaning up the breakfast dishes as long as he could, and burying the remains of the fish away from the camp, but eventually the time came.
“I just realized I never told you what brought me out here,” he said, hefting his pack over his shoulders. “Or where I’m heading.”
Jamie looked up at him. She had been quiet since their conversation in the tree, and he wanted more than anything to cheer her up. The trick was, doing that without ending up rolling in the hay with her.
Not that there was any hay around. But he was sure they’d find some alternative.
Jamie tipped her head back. “Do I want to know?” she asked the sky. “Do I want to lie in my sleeping bag at night, thinking, Ooh, there he is, only a few days’ walk that-a-way, and if I start walking now…” she trailed off. “Seems a bit risky.”
“What if I told you you’d be the only person who knew?”
That got her attention.
“What? But—” She saw his grin, and narrowed eyes. “Oh, preying on my sense of responsibility? Real nice.”
She smiled. He smiled back—and just managed to stop himself from pulling her into his arms.
Concentrate! What were we talking about?
He racked his brain, trying to remember the park brochures he had read when he was trying to find out more about the area.
“Don’t worry, I let my folks know where I was heading. I’m just doing the basic round trip out past the saddle, with the, uh … waterfalls?”
Jamie raised her eyebrows. “You’re well packed for someone who’s only doing a five-day hike.”
Mark forced himself to smile. He’d packed well because he wasn’t sure how long it would take him to find her.
But this was what she wanted. He couldn’t force his presence on her, not when she’d made it clear she needed time to think. And it would look suspicious for him to about-face and take his weeks of supplies back down the mountain after only a day’s hike.
“I figured I’d find a nice spot and camp out for a bit. Maybe spend a few weeks in total. It’s my first time hiking in these mountains…”
“…and you wouldn’t want to get lost and attacked by great big ugly birds,” Jamie teased. She gave him a playful push. “I don’t mean to interrogate you. I’m pretty sure that anyone who can catch fish in his mouth, in the nude, can look after himself. But be careful around the river, okay? If you’re not familiar with these mountains then you won’t know how fast the water can change. It can be a beautiful sunny day where you are, but if there’s been rain farther up in the mountains the rivers can flash flood in an instant.”
“Got it. No more moonlit walks by the water,” Mark reassured her.
Jamie grimaced. “There I go lecturing you again. What have we covered so far … Condor nesting habits, water safety…?”
“Wildlife?”
Jamie shook her head. “There’s nothing too big and dangerous around here. No bears or anything, and no one’s sighted any cougars in this area in a long while. Too high for coyotes. Just don’t be an idiot and you should be fine.” She paused. “But just in case … I’ll walk with you back to the main trail. Just to make sure you don’t get lost along another river.”
Jamie led the way through the trees, Mark a few paces behind her. The hiking trail wasn’t far away, or through difficult terrain—Mark could have found it himself with his eyes closed. Well, with his eyes open. And during the day.
He hoped Jamie had decided to show him the way because she wanted to spend more time with him, not because she thought he was totally incompetent.
At last they reached the trail.
Jamie looked up at him. “I guess this is goodbye, for now,” she said, softly but firmly.
“I guess so.”
Mark leaned down and kissed her one last time. As he pulled away he felt her lean towards him, and just for a moment she rested her head against his chest.
“Mark…” she murmured, and Mark’s heart thumped. “I know I said this isn’t a good time, but I finish up here at the end of the month. If you want to catch up with me when I’m back in town, or…” She shrugged. “You know. When I’m not as busy.”
“Count on it,” Mark said firmly, and was rewarded with a hot flush of pleasure spreading across Jamie’s face.
*
The morning sun was already high in the sky as Mark began to make his way further up the mountain trail. Even as he looked forward into the ranges, his mind flew back down the hillside to that small campsite by the river.
She had told him where he could find her, after they’d both returned from their various trips. She worked at a regional conservation center in a small town a few hours’ drive away, and from what he could gather, basically lived in her office there.
Despite this, he couldn�
�t shake off a sense of deep unhappiness as he left her farther and farther behind. Shifter instincts could only go so far—he could feel where she was now, walking back to her tent, but the farther away from her he got the weaker that connection would be. When she left the mountains, it would fade out entirely.
It would be like losing her all over again.
Then go back for her! his bear demanded.
I can’t do that. He couldn’t. And not only because Jamie needed space and time to think. He needed to shift, to run free in the mountains in his bear shape, release all the wild energy that had built up since the last time he’d had the chance to roam free in the wilderness.
Once he’d done that, he would go and find her. And he would explain everything. He’d ask Tom to help. Yeah, that would work. After all, Tom had explained the existence of shifters to Kes and managed to do it without scaring her off.
The trees opened up as he walked further into the depths of the mountain range. High above him, he saw the striking black wingspan of a condor, floating on the changing air currents. A sudden pang of envy struck him. Those two condors had only lived in the mountains for a few months, and they had already started a family. Their future was settled.
If only things were so easy for the rest of us, he thought glumly.
THREE WEEKS LATER
JAMIE
Rain.
Again.
So much for summer, Jamie thought, peering out through the tent flap.
She’d checked the forecast before she left, and it had been hot, dry, and hot and dry. So much for long-term forecasts.
“At least the farmers will be happy,” she grumbled to herself. And at least I have a good reason to still be out here. Good enough to make putting up with this weather worth it.
If it wasn’t for the birds, she would have packed up and splashed her way out days ago. It had been five days since she’d last gotten a good look at the condor family. If her rough calculations were correct, the egg could hatch any day now—or might already have hatched. But it was too dangerous to climb up the lookout tree when the weather was this bad, and she hadn’t wanted to go down to the river-bank where the protective parents had dive-bombed Mark that night. It must be bad enough being a bald-headed bird in a rainstorm without some random human coming to gawk at you.
