Love Takes Flight

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

FIRST PUBLISHED AS Rescue My Heart in the spring 2023 anthology You Have Made My Heart. This story updated with new chapters and scenes July 2023.

CHAPTER 1

Eleanor Davis sat on a plaid quilt among the tall tan grasses of a hillside within the Merritt Valley National Wildlife Refuge. The large pond below her vantage point rippled and the marsh cattails dipped their brown heads as a light breeze tickled the landscape. The early May morning brought need for the gray fleece jacket and leather gloves she wore. Mist rose from the wetlands, creating an added chill.

Eleanor shuffled her body and turned the collar up on her jacket before placing binoculars to her face for the third time. She fixed the lens across the pond to observe the pair of sandhill cranes feeding in another swampy area.

The taller male’s long beak prodded the wet ground, and the female next to him waded farther into the water. The shadow of a hawk caused the red-headed male crane to raise his long neck toward the sky and produce a rancorous call. Upon spying the soaring hawk, the male jumped from side-to-side, extending his wings as if challenging the bird of prey. The female, smaller in stature, trotted back to her mate, picked up a small stick, and, while tossing it in the air, flapped her three-foot-long gray wings.

Cool! she whispered. You tell him, cranes.

Eleanor then trained her binoculars to the sky and watched a sharp-shinned hawk, its blue-gray feathers distinct in the early morning light, dip and soar as it searched for breakfast.

Grandad, you’d have loved seeing this, she said in a low voice.

Another crane call, this one closer, reverted Eleanor’s attention from the raptor. She used the binoculars to scope out the marsh below her viewing point. The glasses captured the image of a second pair of cranes and also a nearby structure that resembled a beaver’s lodge. Eleanor slid off the quilt and haphazardly folded the covering. With binoculars hanging around her neck, she duck-walked toward the structure. However, the cranes seemed to sense her presence. The pair began jumping, flapping their wings, and emitting distress noises. She paused, hoping the birds would not take flight. After they seemed to settle down and return to foraging, Eleanor continued her stealth upon the structure. She leaned against the left side of the camo fabric crafted tent.

Must be a former duck blind, she muttered.

She took up the binoculars once again, peered around the corner, and focused the lenses on the nearby cranes. She noted the research bands attached to the right legs of the birds.

Eleanor grinned and whispered, Oh, Grandad – the second pair is back!

Her excited murmurings must have been louder than she thought for the sandhills began to squawk, and, within a moment, a cacophony chorused from the farther shore.

I hope you plan to stay put for a while and let the cranes settle down, muttered a male voice from inside the camouflaged tent.

Eleanor squealed and took two steps back. The cranes’ rattled calls rose from the marsh, and the two closest to the structure hopped then took a short flight farther away. They landed in a grassy area above the pond.

I think you’ve disturbed the birds enough this morning, the graveled voice declared.

STATIONED INSIDE THE bird blind, Nathan Ford hoped his low tone emitted authority.

Either get in here or move on, he commanded the intruder. Either way, do it quietly.

Nathan adjusted his video equipment and surveyed the spot where the cranes landed. A moment later, the tent’s entrance flapped, and Nathan, dressed in his heavy U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service coat, took a step back. A moment later, he was face-to-face with a woman bundled in a gray fleece jacket. Her olive eyes stared into his gray ones.

Neither spoke for a moment, and then she said in a hushed tone, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was here, other than the cranes. I took this for an abandoned duck blind.

It is, Nathan responded.

He then pointed to the emblem on his down jacket indicating his work with the governmental agency.

Now it serves as a study sight.

He nodded toward the video camera to his right.

I’m attempting to find out if this particular pair of cranes will nest on the refuge again this year.

So, they are the ones who came last spring and summer.

The woman’s excited, hopeful voice caught him by surprise.

Yeah. You know these birds?

The woman nodded.

My grandfather and I saw them about this time last year, and off and on, we’d come to the refuge during the summer to see if they stayed. We were happy to learn they did.

Nathan smiled and relaxed his posture.

It’s an exciting time. We haven’t had more than one pair stay on the refuge for many years.

He held out his hand.

Nathan Ford, supervisory biologist.

The woman’s eyes widened.

Nathan? Really?

Uh, yeah. I’m pretty sure I know who I am.

I’m Eleanor Davis, Ellie. I believe you knew my grandfather.

Instantly, Nathan’s thoughts traveled back, recalling the times spent at the Davis farm. From his early days as a biologist and purchasing apples and cherries from the elderly couple then a few years later adding vegetables and herbs to his acquisitions to the more recent times as he helped Cal create a small vineyard and construct a larger greenhouse.

Wow, well, this is a surprise.

The woman’s voice brought Nathan back to the present.

Grandad spoke about you a lot, she said, especially after you helped him with the greenhouse and the vineyard.

The smile she gave him caused the guilt Nathan thought he had buried to resurrect like a prairie flower in spring.

I, uh, I’m really sorry I ... I wasn’t ... I couldn’t attend Cal’s funeral. I, um, I was ... I was out of town at that time, he stammered.

The smile didn’t leave Eleanor’s face.

I understand.

He stared at her. How could she know?

Government meetings, conferences, travel – I get all that. I used to work for the National Park Service. I loved my job, but I sure don’t miss all those meetings and travel.

Nathan stifled a sigh.

Yeah, well, there is that.

He turned and picked up the video camera.

Let’s see if I get a bit more of the birds’ behavior before I pack up.

Nathan reset the device on the small stand built to hold the camera and zoomed in on the sandhills, now sauntering amid the growing grasses. He took a deep breath. He had been able to keep his struggle from most people. Few knew his real reason for missing the old man’s funeral, and he intended to keep it that way.

CHAPTER 2

An hour later, the sun higher in the sky, Eleanor sat beside Nathan on the tailgate of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service pickup drinking coffee.

Thanks for this, she said, raising the mug. I left my thermos on the kitchen table.

Do you come out here often to wildlife watch?

Eleanor, Ellie to her friends and family – well, most of her family anyway – shook her head.

This is my first full summer at the farm. After Grandad’s passing, I still had work with the Park Service. I moved into the house fulltime last month. I hope to spend more time at the refuge this year, but I have so much to get ready for the planting season.

I’m really sorry about your grandfather – he was a great guy.

Ellie detected sincerity in Nathan’s voice. She nodded, and then she gazed upon the refuge, taking in the small flowers pushing through the ground, the aromas of water and bogs, and the singing of meadowlarks welcoming the sunshine.

Yes, yes, he was. I miss him greatly, both he and Grammy.

You were close with them?

Ellie nodded again.

Very. In many ways, they raised me.

She glanced at Nathan to find him looking at her. Ellie sighed.

Again, looking at the natural scene around them, she answered his unspoken question.

I’ve loved the farm since I was a child. I often stayed weekends and then later, as a teen, I’d spend most of my summers with them. Days off from work, when I could get here, I’d come and stay. I helped Grammy with her herb and flower gardens and Grandad with the vegetables. I was back in school during orchard season, but whenever possible, I’d come back on weekends.

So, where were you stationed while with Park Service?

Nathan’s question was typical for Ellie to answer when people learned of her previous career.

I spent my last three years at Glacier, which allowed me to visit Grammy and Grandad fairly frequently. Other appointments took me to Yellowstone and Arches, and I spent several winters at Saguaro.

All great places.

She smiled and nodded.

I loved each park. Each has its unique beauty.

What did you do?

Fee collection for a few summers then interpretation. I loved the campfire programs in particular.

Wow, cool! How many years total?

Ten.

And you left to manage the farm?

Ellie nodded.

Grandad left it to me.

Each sipped their coffee in silence for a moment.

NATHAN STUDIED ELLIE from the corner of his eye. After his boss told him of Cal’s death last year, he had also learned the farm would not be sold, that Cal and Marie’s granddaughter inherited the place. The one time he had stopped to offer condolences when he returned to the valley and to his job, no one was home. He found excuses, like work, to avoid stopping in again. Guilt was a heavy load to carry. Now, sitting next to her, he could remove that backpack.

I stopped at the house once to offer my sympathies and see if I could help in any way. No one was home at the time. Then, the spring work began piling on. I was never so happy to welcome summer seasonals as this year!

Ellie chuckled, and Nathan found he enjoyed her laugh.

I understand. It’s never easy being a one-person show, especially as the projects arise.

Her eyes met his.

I appreciate your effort, and I really appreciate your friendship with my grandparents, especially when I couldn’t be there.

Their eyes locked for a moment, and Nathan found himself drawn to this woman. Her olive eyes glimmered with a shade of amber. He took in the soft contours of her face and interpreted a sense of strength in her profile. Momentarily, his mind reflected upon the photograph of Ellie displayed on a bureau in the Davis’ living room. Wearing a Park Service uniform, the photo showed a woman smiling, reflecting the joy of her job, standing near Delicate Arch in Utah. He also recalled a collection of photos hanging on the kitchen wall, pictures of Ellie at different parks in uniform and in civilian clothes as well as of her at the farm.

Your grandparents became like my own, Nathan found himself saying. They certainly were proud of you.

Ellie smiled.

You saw all the photographs, didn’t you?

He smiled.

Hard not to. Like I said, they were very proud of you.

She sighed and gazed again at the pond.

I lost them too soon.

What about your parents?

She looked at him.

If you knew my grandparents as well as you seemed to, you likely know some of that drama.

Nathan nodded slightly.

Some, yeah. I thought maybe Cal exaggerated.

Why do you think I got the farm instead of my father?

Ellie jumped from the tailgate.

Well, I have animals to tend to and a house to prepare. I’d best get going.

Nathan stepped down and stood beside her.

What’s happening at the house?

My cousin is coming to spend the summer with me, helping me at the farm. I pick her up from the Centerville airport in a few days.

Centerville? Wouldn’t Missoula have been just as good or better?

Her eyes locked onto his again.

I try to limit my trips to Missoula.

Ah, parents.

She nodded.

Dad parent mostly.

She handed him the coffee mug.

Thanks for the coffee ... and the crane lessons. I, uh, I enjoyed our time this morning.

Yeah, me, too.

She held out her hand. After another glance at her face, he thrust out his, and they shook hands.

"Listen, if you need help at