Page 52 of Flight of the Omega

XXI

Jack didn’t wantto go anywhere near Midlothian, but after JP had spent two days frolicking in the snow, he didn’t really have any choice. Dr. Vogel needed to keep much closer watch on her patient. JP needed that. He needed a flock, he needed a therapist, and he needed a doctor to keep him and the eggs safe. Jack wasn’t enough, not by his lonesome. He could see that now, plain as day.

Going back to Dr. Vogel’s clinic was dangerous. Midlothian wasn’t far, and Burr sometimes came up that way. Sometimes, someone from Midlothian had to stop off at the Vogel farm.

“It’ll be all right,” Amanda assured him. “JP is nesting, so he won’t be out and about for a bit. I can’t see any reason for anyone from Midlothian to come into the stables.”

It still felt risky to Jack, but being in the middle of nowhere wasn’t safe for JP either. So he drugged JP, loaded up the eggs, and followed Dr. Vogel and Hank back down the mountain.

They dosed JP again halfway to the clinic, because he was starting to come around. He was groggy but angry, and Jack didn’t exactly trust him to be in his right mind after the last two days. Keeping him under was better, in Jack’s opinion. Even though he felt wretched about it. He was supposed to be teaching JP to trust him.

JP slept the whole time they moved him into the red barn at the back of the property. Hank brought a bunch of nesting materials, and Amanda had made sure there was a lot of fresh, clean straw. They moved the eggs in, each wrapped in their individual blankets. Then they dragged JP in.

“Are you sure we should leave him there?” Jack asked. JP in his bird form didn’t move much while he was sleeping. He moved around a lot more while he was in humanoid skin. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t start thrashing around and maybe hurt the eggs.

“It’ll be fine,” Dr. Vogel reasoned. “He’ll come around soon enough, and until he does, that’s a pretty heavy-duty tranquilizer. He’s not going to move much.”

“What about when he wakes up?” Jack asked as they started the trek back to the main offices. “What if he freaks out because he doesn’t know where he is?”

She shook her head. “It’ll be fine. He’ll be lucid for a bit before he can move too quick.”

Jack slowed as they meandered through the offices, past the exam rooms, into the waiting area with its faded, blue tile floor and peeling wallpaper. He stopped dead when he saw who was standing on the porch.

Duckie’s eyes widened. “Well,” they said, “fancy meeting you here! The heck have you been for the last month? Nobody’s seen hide nor hair of you since the Rose Plate.”

A frown crossed the cook’s face, and they put their hands on their hips. “Everyone’s saying you’d run off with the boss’s son.”

Jack pulled a face. “Boss’s son? The heck would they say that for?”

Duckie’s eyes widened some more. Jack thought they might fall out of the cook’s head. “Didn’t you hear?” they asked, their voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as they leaned over. “Boss’s son went missing. They’re saying someone kidnapped him—you know he’s an angelic, right? And he’d been studded, but no one knows to who. So they’re saying it was one of the other ranchers and Old Man Crane didn’t pay ’em the stud fee, so they came around and swiped the eggs.”

Jack lifted his brows. “Really.”

Duckie nodded. “Heard it was a champion racer who was the stud.”

Jack barely caught Amanda’s eye as he strained to conceal laughter. “That’s real shady stuff,” he said to Duckie, as seriously as he could manage. “Why wouldn’t Old Man Crane pay ’em?”

“Dunno,” Duckie said. Then they tilted their head. “Well, I don’t believe it no how—I think the boy had an affair and Daddy didn’t like it, if you know what I mean. So he took off with the lover and we won’t hear nothing about them no more.”

If only, Jack thought ruefully. “Well,” he said, “I never heard nothing ’bout no secret lover.”

Duckie grinned with delight. “Folks think it was you!” they practically squealed.

Jack shook his head and held out his hands. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? And no secret love affairs for me—I’m not a fledgling. I’m too old for that stuff.”

“’Cause you know better—you got a good head on your shoulders.” Duckie laughed a little. “Well, it made for a good story—you both took off at the same time. Where have you been?”

“Sick bird,” he said vaguely, “’bout twenty miles from here. Dr. Vogel asked me to go, and they asked me to stay until the bird was better.”

Duckie pursed their lips and tut-tutted. “Last I heard, Mr. Crane didn’t give you leave to go running all over, tending to other folks’ sick birds.”

“Jack’s so good with the birds,” Amanda said. “You know, there’s only so much medicine can do for them—when it’s their heads or their hearts, you need a different approach.”

“Ah,” Duckie drawled, “you’re saying Jack’s got healing hands.”

She smiled. “Something like that.” She slid behind the counter. “What brings you around anyway? Burr doesn’t normally send you.”

Duckie sighed melodramatically. “We’ve been short-staffed ever since the Plate. Burr fired half the staff for losing JP, and the other half quit after Mr. Crane’s tirade. Don’t blame ’em—I stayed ’cause I ain’t got nowhere else to go and nobody’s gonna pick a fight with the cook, not unless they’ve got gravel for brains. But that means I’ve been doing double-duty, picking up the feed for the birds too.”