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With both her past and her present staring her in the face, Kate needed to get back to basics. Everything ought to seem clear by now, but it didn’t. Not yet. Clarity had been an elusive thing since she was in college, though, which was why her gut twinged when she thought about Leigh’s words during their picnic.
“Hey there, Ibister!” The call from across the dining room pulled her out of her reverie and Kate straightened to see who’d spoken. It was one of the observatory wardens, Andrew. At least, she thought that was his name.
“Yeah?”
“Want to come with us? We’re ringing baby puffins today before they start taking flight. We thought you might want to join us.”
Of course she wanted to join them. It was a special opportunity. Not everyone got to watch the wardens work, let alone learn from them. She nodded and picked up her almost-empty breakfast plate. At least her appetite hadn’t suffered through all this divorce nonsense. If anything, she was eating more heartily than before, maybe from all the fresh air.
Another warden joined her and Andrew, and they hiked across the rugged ground to the puffins’ main nesting area. The guys set to work, clearly comfortable with handling the fledglings to ring and catalog them. Kate hung back and observed at first, before accepting the opportunity to try banding a tiny little bird leg. She knew tourists and amateur ornithologists paid dearly for this opportunity. Having it handed to her was incredible, and she savored every moment.
Most of the babies had left the nest and made short flights, so this was one of the last chances to mark them for research. One by one, Kate and the wardens added to the record of puffins known to frequent the island, until they’d worked through every nest and along the rocks. It took the better part of a day and left Kate out of breath. But in that good, satisfied way, as if she’d just completed a hard work-out.
Andrew nudged her as he was stowing equipment in his backpack. “You have a gentle touch with them. You seem to really care about the little ones.”
“I care about all of them. Birds are precious and fragile, though not as defenseless as people think. They need to be treated with respect, like every living thing.” Kate sank down cross-legged onto the ground and drew in a deep breath. The ocean air filled her lungs and she dropped her head back, face to the sky.
She remembered being a child and watching the wardens check their traps every morning for the birds they wanted to ring. Some didn’t require trapping, but many were wary of humans, even in this remote paradise. When she’d watched the process, awe and fascination bubbling inside her, the wardens had always been kind, but not willing to let a child interfere. This was literally a dream come true.
“Being here is such a unique opportunity, anyone who loves birds would jump at the chance to work with them like this.”
“Would you?” Andrew asked.
Kate nodded, her eyes still on the puffy white clouds scudding along in the vast blueness of the afternoon sky. Another fair day on Fair Isle. She’d been able to hold soft, downy birds in the palm of her hand. A childhood wish granted. What more could she ask for right now?
“We’ve got an opening coming up.”
“Hm?” Kate blinked the brightness from her eyes and looked at Andrew.
His expression was warm and open. “Mike is leaving us at the end of the year, a few months before you’re supposed to leave. It’d be an excellent time to train as his replacement. Have you ever considered becoming a warden?”
“Oh... I don’t know.” Kate picked at the scrub on the rocky shore. Yes, of course she had. These people with their love for birds had been one piece of the puzzle that led her to this career.
“Why not?”
“I guess because it would mean staying in one place, always seeing the same birds, instead of having the opportunity to explore the wider array of species out there.”
Andrew’s brows drew together. “But didn’t you stay in the same place for, what, fifteen or so years, not even doing your job? Not even pursuing your career?”
Kate hated the way her heart slammed into her ribcage. Did everyone here know she’d wasted so much time on her ungrateful soon-to-be ex-husband? “Uh, I didn’t realize that was pertinent.”
“You’re right. Forgive me for being forward.” Andrew hoisted the backpack onto his shoulders, rose to his full height, and squinted out toward the ocean. “It’s just that when you got here, you seemed kind of unsure of what you were doing, you know? Like a lost bird, yourself. Now we see you smiling every day, not moping about the island as if you’ve lost something you can’t find. It’s a good change and I think I’m not the only one to see it. You’ve got a good thing going here.”
“I see.” Kate reminded herself she’d always known it was a small community in more ways than one. Now, though, it was getting personal. She rolled her shoulders back and met Andrew’s gaze. “Well, thanks again for today. I appreciate the opportunity. Both opportunities. I’ll think on it.”
“Please do. Also, we see more new birds than you think. The Calandra lark, for example, has only been spotted here six times in the history of the observatory. There are always surprises, even in a place as small as this. The moment you let down your guard is when some of the best things happen here.” Andrew looked at her a moment longer before turning toward the observatory. His long legs had soon crossed enough ground to take him beyond Kate’s line of sight. She let her entire body relax, folding in a bit.
Over the past few weeks, she’d become well aware that Leigh wasn’t the only person who wanted her to stay, but this was starting to get out of hand. Clearly, Andrew’s message was a pointed one and he got zero points for subtlety.
“If one more person...” Kate grumbled and picked at a tiny purple flowerhead.
A melodic chirp drew her gaze up again, this time to a rocky outcropping to her left. Perched atop it was something she was sure she’d imagined the first time. Yellow body, black markings, and the only one of its kind on the island.
Kate turned slowly toward the Sturnella so she wouldn’t frighten it. Larks weren’t exactly accustomed to humans, unlike the puffins. And this lark especially didn’t belong here. A Calandra lark––or Melanocorypha––sure, but not this one. Melanocorypha were European larks. Sturnella were American. How had a Western Meadowlark in all its splendor ended up over four thousand miles from home?
She reached into her backpack, hoping the movements wouldn’t startle the bird. It took longer than she wanted to find her phone and her heart pounded out a panicked rhythm. Finally, though, her fingers closed around the slim device. She opened the camera app and raised it to capture a photo. Almost the moment the shutter clicked, the meadowlark launched itself into the sky with a twitter of displeasure.
“Please come back,” Kate whispered. “You must be so lonely here, the only one of your kind.” Her stomach dropped with guilt. She hated to frighten anything, but especially this poor creature.
The shrill bark of a dog made her sit upright and turn back toward the south. Her glance picked out the familiar shape of a small terrier bounding along the ground toward her, his little legs pumping like pistons. In an instant, Seamus was sniffing her knees and hands. His presence eased her guilt somewhat. Maybe it’d been the dog who scared the bird off, not her.
“Hey there, you troublemaker,” she muttered, ruffling her free hand through his coarse hair. “What are you doing out here?”
“He’s got a nose for whomever he wants to find.” Kate looked up and there was Craig Wheeler, making his way toward her, walking stick in one hand and camera around his neck. “I expect he wanted me to come and see you, because he knew I have something to give you.”
“You do?” Kate didn’t know if she could take one more unexpected thing today, but she supposed she’d have to. It was turning out to be one of those days whether she liked it or not.
Craig nodded and set his stick down on the ground. Like everyone who spent their days traipsing about the northern half of the island, he had a backpack that he now removed with care. He unzipped the top, reached inside, and withdrew a long, brown paper-wrapped rectangle.
“Here you go, from me to you.”
“What’s the occasion?” Kate accepted the parcel. From the shape and feel of it, unyielding in her hands, it was a picture frame. She unwrapped it and her entire world stood still.
It was a slightly faded color photograph of her, about fourteen-years-old, and sitting on the cliffs, looking out to sea. There was an open notebook in her lap. The wind had blown her hair back away from her face. A warden sat next to her, pointing at the puffin nesting area, while teen Kate leaned in to listen. Her face was tight with concentration, but wonder shone in her eyes. The same wonder that, thirty years ago, had guided her to becoming an ornithologist.
“I found it while I was doing some belated spring cleaning and thought you’d want it. I remember that day. You said you couldn’t wait to be old enough so you could come back here to live and be a warden, too.”
Kate scrubbed at her suddenly wet eyes with her forearm. “Is this some kind of conspiracy?”
“Don’t know what you mean, lass, but I just found that last night. Thought you would appreciate it more than anyone, except maybe your Aunt Katherine.”
The way Kate’s stomach tied itself in knots, she didn’t know what to say. All she could do was nod and croak out a thank you as she looked at her eager, inquisitive younger self. The one who hadn’t known love or loss or heartbreak yet. All that had mattered at the time were the birds and her dreams of being among them.
What would it take to get that girl back?