The Edge of Winter by Luanne Rice

Author:Luanne Rice
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780553903485
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2007-02-27T05:00:00+00:00

15

Joe walked down to the far end of the flight cages and stood looking through the mesh at the wounded snowy owl. He claimed to like all birds, or at least all raptors, equally, but the truth was, he felt closest to the owls. They had a mystical quality that went along with their reputation for being wise—whenever he looked into their bright, still eyes, he felt as if they knew more than he did.

Staring at this bird huddled at the back of his cage, Joe crouched down so he could be at eye level. Mrs. Halloran had done him a great service, bringing him this owl. Not just because he hoped the bird, once healed, would become part of a breeding pair, but because the owl reminded him of his brother. He hadn’t felt this close to Damien in many years. Right now, standing in the frigid barn and shaking, shivering with cold and something more, a feeling deep inside, Joe stared across the dark space and started talking.

“He called me,” he said to the snowy owl. “Tim did. Said he had a question for me. It had to do with the U-boat, maybe it did. The reason doesn’t matter, does it? The point is, my son called.”

The owl stayed perfectly still. Joe wasn’t crazy; it wasn’t that he thought this bird was his brother. No, it wasn’t that at all. Joe was nearly eighty-six years old, and he had his faculties intact. But he stared at the snowy owl and remembered the trip he and Damien had taken after they’d both come home from the war.

Oh, that time. Their first chance to see each other and spend time together. Their first chance to assess the damage. Joe had felt hungry for contact—for the easy brotherly times, the comfort of family, the rhythm of joking and storytelling and finishing each other’s sentences.

They’d taken a train, then hitchhiked, then bummed a ride from a Canadian Mountie to the tundra. Damien was shell-shocked, and the only thing Joe could think of, to bring him back, was to take him on a trip to see a bird, a rare bird, one they’d never seen before. The snowy owl.

They’d made it to the tundra, up by Hudson Bay. Joe had let the icy air and the northern lights leech the smell of gunpowder, diesel, and salt off his skin and out of his spirit. He’d let the long darkness lull him into dreams, away from nightmares. He’d look over at Damien, just to see him.

And he’d looked the same. But, equally, not the same. There was a certain darkness behind his eyes, but that wasn’t necessarily it—Damien had always been deep, sensitive, a thinker. The biggest difference was that he looked older. And not just as if he’d aged in years—as if he’d hardened inside, as if he’d turned from a boy into a stone man.

Joe had needed his brother—his own experiences during the war had rocked him, shocked him. He’d seen things

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