A Nest in the Ashes

by Christine Goff

  “I’m sorry, Eric.” Jackie’s eyes shone. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I didn’t know the sacrifices we’d all have to make when I asked you to help us.”

  Then, she didn’t know it was Tamara when she first asked him to help her find Wayne’s killer.

  “When did you figure it out?” he asked.

  “I found the psychrometer in her jeans pocket while I was doing laundry.”

  The front door opened, and Tamara came in. “Hi, Mama, I’m home.”

  In a panic, Jackie turned away from Eric. “I’m in the living room, honey, but don’t come in here, please. I have a surprise for you. I don’t want you to spoil it.”

  Now was his chance. Eric leaped for the gun.

  Jackie whirled back around and squeezed the trigger. The hammer fell with a click.

  Eric made another leap. Jackie squeezed the trigger again, drawing back the hammer. He batted her arm to the side. The gun fired.

  Tamara screamed, her shrill voice piercing the air. Jackie stared in horror. Tamara hadn’t done what her mother had told her. Instead, she’d made a beeline for the living room.

  Tamara dropped to the floor, and the gun dropped from Jackie’s hand. The woman sank to her knees beside her daughter. “Tamara. Oh my God, my baby.” Jackie stroked her daughter’s hair away from her face. “I’m sorry. Oh my God, what have I done?”

  Eric pulled into the Beaver Meadows turnaround bright and early. Lark was waiting for him. She sat on the tailgate of her pickup, watching the sun tint the mountains pink in the dawn of the day.

  “Coffee?” She held out a thermal mug.

  “Thanks.” He sipped the dark roast, then scooted up beside her, letting his feet dangle.

  “How’s Tamara?” she asked, kicking her feet and letting them swing.

  “She took a bullet to the shoulder. She’ll live.”

  “Ah,” said Lark. “A soap and water wound.”

  “No, it was worse than that. She needed surgery. And stitches. And she also found herself a good lawyer. From what I hear, in addition to defending her in the criminal trial, she had the attorney file a lawsuit against Jackie for reckless endangerment.”

  Lark smiled, and sipped her coffee. With her head bent, the early morning sun warmed her hair to a shade of golden honey. “What’s going to happen to them?”

  Eric forced his gaze to the meadow. “They’re going to jail.”

  “And Paxton?” Lark pulled her blue flannel shirt closer around her.

  “Cold?” he asked, draping his arm about her shoulders. She snuggled in closer.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Paxton gets off.”

  “Completely?”

  Eric nodded. “The way Vic explained it, Paxton didn’t commit any crime. He piled wood with intent, but he never lit the fire, and there’s nothing in the Colorado statutes that says piling wood is a crime.”

  “What about the tape Vic found?”

  “Jackie Devlin planted it there. Paxton went to see Verbiscar, but he never actually connected.”

  Lark took another sip of coffee. “So, how is she?”

  “Verbiscar?” Eric rubbed his hand up and down Lark’s arm. “She’s healing. I hear they’re going to let her out of the hospital soon. And, apparently, the network is going to give her a shot at the early morning broadcast. Trust me, she’ll dine out on this story for years.”

  A car pulled up to the turnaround, and Eric lifted his arm from Lark’s shoulder. The rest of the participating EPOCH members had arrived. Dorothy MacBean and Cecilia Meyer came first, followed by Andrew and Opal Henderson. And, as they unloaded their birding equipment, Harry Eckles showed up with Gertie Tanager.

  “Give us the lowdown, Eric,” said Andrew. “What exactly do you want us to do?”

  “I want us to fan out across the meadow. The purpose of the study is to determine the impact of fire on avian populations. We know that some birds fare better than others after a fire. We expect to see declines in some bird species and increases in others. And, we expect there will be some species that disappear completely and never return.”

  “Like the green-tailed towhee?”

  “That’s my fear.” Eric looped his binoculars around his neck and picked up his field notebook. “Oh, and, in addition to the birds you spot, if you would, please jot down the types of live vegetation you see, and please make notes of any other wildlife or invertebrates spotted in the area—beetles, squirrels, rabbits.” He scanned the faces. “Questions?”

  Gertie’s hand shot up. “How long do you want us to stay out there?” She gestured toward the meadow.

  “Half a day. Longer if you’re up for it.” He glanced around. “Anyone else?”

  No one said anything.

  “Let’s get going, then.” Eric stepped off the berm, and the meadow spread before them—a charred blanket of ash and burned bushes. The late-spring snow had encouraged some of the unburned grass to green up, and spots of the meadow already showed signs of recovery. Too bad the forested area wouldn’t rebound as quickly, he thought.

  He’d gone thirty feet, then spotted the bush where he’d seen the green-tailed towhee building its nest prior to the burn. The charred branches of antelope bitterbrush stuck up in brittle spikes, ready to be felled by the first puff of wind.

  Drawing closer, Eric could see that the back side of the plant was still green. He jotted down the observation, and a flash of movement caught his eye. He studied the bush, and spotted another flash of orange.

  “Lark,” he called in a stage whisper. “Everybody. Check this out.”

  The group gathered.

  “Remember I told you I was worried about the green-tailed towhee?”

  They nodded.

  He pointed to the bush. “They stayed.” He smiled at the others. “Check it out. They’re building a nest in the ashes.”

  GREEN-TAILEDTOWHEE

  Pipilo chlorurus

  Family: Emberizidea

  APPEARANCE: The smallest of the towhees, this bird is quite drab. In good light, it will take on a greenish sheen. Watch for its white chin and distinctive rusty-red cap. The green-tailed towhee has a long tail, and if an intruder approaches, it will scamper along the ground like a small mammal, hoping to distract the predator.

  RANGE: The green-tailed towhee is a migratory bird that summers in the western United States from eastern California to central Colorado and Montana to New Mexico. It winters throughout Mexico.

  HABITAT: Watch for the green-tailed towhee in the foothills and low brush of the higher elevation scrublands. It is also found in mountain thickets, chaparral, and riparian scrub.

  VOICE: Its song is a series of chip notes, chu-weet-chur, chee-chur, followed by two or more trills. Its call is a nasal meewe. When it is in flight, listen for a long thin buzz, zeereesh.

  BEHAVIORS: The green-tailed towhee is a monogamous bird that lives either alone or in pairs. It may form loose flocks with other species in winter. A classic double-scratcher, the green-tailed towhee forages on the ground beneath dense thickets by pulling both legs sharply backward at the same time. The green-tailed towhee eats seeds, fruit, and insects and their larvae. Secretive and easily overlooked, it may be detected by the loud rustling it makes scratching for food in the leaf litter. It has a rapid, bouncy flight, and alternates between several quick wing beats and pulling its wings tight to its sides.

  CONSERVATION: An uncommon cowbird host, the green-tailed towhee is vulnerable to the loss of habitat due to land clearing, grazing, and development. Studies are now being done to determine the effects of prescribed fire on the species.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s Imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  http://www.penguinputnam.com
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