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Oregon Outback

By Elizabeth Goddard

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Newton’s Law of Gravity: What goes up must come down.

She took five running steps and leapt from Tague’s Butte.

The force that countered gravity? Lift.

Wind rushed under the nylon fabric of the hang-glider and carried Darcy Nichols forward. She was an eagle, soaring through the sky thousands of feet above the ground. Riding the wind, she savored the freedom of flight.

No matter how many times she’d launched from the six thousand foot knob across from Albert’s Rim—the largest fault lift in the US—the view always left her breathless.

Exhilarated.

Leaning her hips to the right, she turned the hang-glider toward the northeast into the straight line for her flight, maintaining a constant speed.

As she pushed her arms straight, forcing the control bar forward, the wing above her stalled. Then she caught the lift band, the thermal that would carry her higher.

Rising high into the wide open air space she craved, Darcy could see miles of the Oregon backcountry. She collided with molecules as she moved through the air, creating friction, or drag—another invisible force in the equation.
How high she could fly, how far she could go and how long she could stay in the air depended on balancing the three forces of gravity, lift, and drag. Maybe she could make it forty or fifty miles. Someone made it over eighty miles a few years ago.

It all came down to balancing invisible forces. They carried her through the air, allowing her to fly. But invisible forces were at work in her life too, never ceasing. They ushered her through the days, weeks, months. . .through a lifetime.

A balancing act that left her exhausted.

Eventually, she’d need to radio Emily, her best friend, when she knew where she’d land. A few of Darcy’s friends had been heading to Lakeview and agreed to drop her off at the jump-off point on the way.

With perfect conditions for hang-gliders and extraordinary views, the region had earned the title, The Hang-gliding Capital of the West.

Darcy let the wind carry her away from her thoughts. She absorbed the view and took pictures as she swept over Albert’s Lake, the water reflecting the blue sky filled with cumulus clouds. From directly above, the lake was indescribable—but she’d catch the image with her camera.

Her photographs ended up in her gift shop that targeted tourists traveling along Oregon’s scenic byways. In the distance, she could make out Fort Rock, and on the horizon, the Christmas Valley sand dunes. A few miles east of Christmas Valley was Carnegie, the small town where she’d grown up. The views were spectacular but the population was lean in Oregon’s high desert, or the Oregon Outback as some called it.

The arid loneliness contradicted the beauty at times, making the land seem forgotten. Darcy shared that with the land—her father died just over a week ago.

On Thursday, June 26th, he’d left her behind and alone.
She’d been preparing for his death these last nine months since he’d received the poor prognosis. Though he’d only been gone a week, after remaining by his side for months, Darcy needed today. She needed to feel lifted above it all.
In the sky, she could soar above the earth and all the problems of the world appeared small. It wasn’t all about her.

“Oh, Daddy.” There was so much she’d wanted to say to him but it was pointless saying it now. All she’d ever wanted was what every child wanted—a father’s approval. Why had it been so hard for him to give?

And now, that chapter of her life was gone forever.
A gust caught the delta wing, threatening to take her off course. In the sling, she leaned her body to the left.

North by northwest. Emily wouldn’t be happy if she had to drive too far to pick Darcy up. An experienced pilot, she built altitude so that on her final glide she could go as far as possible, making it somewhere in the vicinity of Carnegie.

But even at thousands of feet above the ground, images accosted her mind. Her daddy’s funeral in the pouring down rain. And then. . .

The familiar silhouette leaning next to the centuries old juniper tree.
A hood protected him from the rain, hiding his face. Darcy’s pulse had raced. Was it Jonas?

No. Jonas Love had left town years ago thanks to her father, Pastor Jeremy Nichols’, counseling.
Jonas was the man she would have married, if it hadn’t been for her father. In the end, Jonas was the one who’d hurt her the most. The best thing she could do now was start a new life elsewhere.
With only ten or fifteen minutes remaining in her flight, she fumbled with her radio and hailed Emily.

“What do you want?” Emily’s voice barked over the radio.
Darcy’s friend knew the drill. They’d done this for years. “I’m about ten minutes out. You could probably see me to the south.”

“Come again?”

“Really?”

Emily laughed. “I’m on it. And, there’s something else.”

The wind whipped in Darcy’s ears, nearly drowning Emily out. “What?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Darcy shut off her radio. “I hate it when you do that.”

An eagle again, Darcy lost herself in flight, savoring those last few minutes. Finally, she soared over the small two-lane highway that Emily would take to meet her. McFarlane’s ranch was across the way, a small swath of earth where she was permitted to land. Too soon, her time in the sky was over, like the ending of a well-loved book.

Grass and earth came at her fast. She pushed the bar forward and stretched her arms, tipping the nose up and stalling the glider until it began to slow. . .slower. . .Darcy stuck her feet out and landed upright, running through the sagebrush and bunchgrass until she stopped. The wing dropped behind her.
Grounded, the exhilaration of flight slowly dissipated. She unharnessed from the contraption. When she looked up, Emily was jogging across the property. Breathing hard, she slowed as she approached, her dark blond hair bouncing in a ponytail.

“You didn’t have to run,” Darcy said.

“Didn’t I?” Emily leaned over her thighs.

“On second thought, you probably need the exercise,” Darcy teased.

“Are you prepared to walk home?” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“No, not really.”

“Didn’t think so.” Emily drew in a long breath. “Let me help you with that.”

“No. I have to fold it just right. It’ll last longer. You know that.”

“Yes, but I always have to ask, don’t I?”

“Maybe. You can tell me whatever it was you were going to tell me later.”

“Now?” Emily sounded cautious.

Darcy glanced up from packing the glider. “What is it?”

With an unreadable expression, Emily pinned Darcy with her sage-green eyes.

“Jonas Love is back in town.”

Invisible forces.
#
Evaluation. Debriefing. Decompression.
The Bureau’s Behavioral Science Unit had evaluated Special Agent Jonas Love all right. And . . .he’d endured the debriefing results.
Agent Jonas Love, you’re relieved of duty. A megaphone blasted the words in his head again.
The Office of Professional Responsibility was conducting an internal investigation to see if Jonas was at fault. He’d turned in his creds and weapon.
And now, as Jonas sped over the sand dunes, gripping the handlebars of the quad. . .he decompressed.
A leave of absence. A mini-vacation. Whatever. The Bureau was proactive when it came to covering their rears. To be fair, they wanted to protect their agents too.
But if he was going to succeed at his current assignment—to decompress—he’d have to get a memory wipe. Was that too much to ask?
Sand Dunes met the horizon in all directions. The guy at his brother’s ATV shop had assured him that Lucas was out there somewhere, taking a break from work, doing what he loved. Jonas had grabbed one of the rentals—the latest and greatest in high performance all-terrain vehicles.
A big rise, maybe thirty feet or more, loomed ahead. He juiced it, power shifting for the big push over the top.
At the crest, he launched into the air. Flying, he stood on the quad, his legs gripping the sides. Then he thrust his arms up, pulling a no-hander. He’d forgotten the exhilaration, the thrill.
Gravity yanked hard. The quad pulled away from him. The machine beneath him plummeting, he gripped the handlebars.
Sand rushed at him.
His muscles taut, expectant, he watched the ground loom larger. On impact, the four-wheeler bounced, jarring his body. Plumes of desert sand burst up, encircling him. The machine jerked forward almost leaving him in the dust.
Almost.
The whir of the engine underneath buzzed in his head. Barreling downhill, he picked up speed and nearly lost control. He slid to a stop. Heat penetrated his helmet. He pulled it off and wiped sweat from his brow, feeling the grime of wet, grainy dirt.
Another daredevil rushed over the hills. Jonas watched the guy take a big risk—side hilling on a steep dune. He was booking it too fast for Jonas’s taste. The quad teetered.
It’s going to roll.
Jonas sent up a quick prayer. This guy reminded him of Lucas, always pushing the envelope. ATVs could injure or crush, but Lucas never cared. He wanted to live on the edge.
Ride on the edge.
At that moment, the quad tipped. The guy jumped off on the other side and made it to safety. He pumped his arm and gave a triumphant shout.
Jonas set his helmet on the quad’s seat and started toward the crazy man, waiting for him to pull off his helmet. Then Jonas would know with certainty that it was. . .
“Lucas!”
While Lucas stared, Jonas trudged across the deep sand, resistant to his every step. By the time he reached Lucas, he was beyond winded.
Jonas bent over his knees, catching his breath. “You couldn’t meet me half way?”
A huge smile plastered his brother’s face--the one that always got the girls. “Jonas!” He grabbed him like a bear.
Jonas returned the hug, thankful to see his brother again. He admitted that he’d stayed away for too long.
Lucas released him. “Dude. I can’t believe it’s you. What’re you doing here?”
“You’re not glad to see me?”
“Sure. You could have called or something. Then I would have cleaned the place up for you.” He grinned.
“Yeah, right.” Jonas moved to the quad. “So, you’re into quad tipping now, is that it?”
“Hardly.” He positioned himself to roll the ATV again. “Okay. On three.”
Jonas came to his side and put his hands under the vehicle. “One, two, three. . .”
They pushed together. The quad rolled over again, and the sharp incline kept it rolling. At the base of the dune it stopped upright. Lucas had been lucky to escape.
He sucked in a breath. “Another one bites the dust.”
“You think it’s ruined?” asked Jonas.
“Maybe. I don’t know. But I need to make sure it’s completely safe for the next rider. It’s a rental.” Lucas grabbed his helmet and straddled the vehicle he’d just expressed uncertainty over. “How long are you here for?”
“I’m not sure.” Jonas pulled on his helmet and fastened it, then opened the throttle wide, spraying a rooster’s plume behind him.
For the moment, he felt alive and savored it. He knew only too well how quickly a life could be snuffed out. He was still reeling that a member of his team had been killed during an FBI raid he’d led, along with an innocent victim.
His evaluation and debriefing had been hard enough, but he was beginning to believe he’d chosen the wrong place to regroup.
He’d never gotten over Darcy.
The whir of another quad zoomed past. His brother waved, then turned performer with his personally-directed freestyle-riding act.
He hoped by now that his younger brother had grown up, taking life more seriously. On the other hand, maybe Lucas was living every minute to the fullest. Before Jonas could decide which was true, he pulled into the parking lot of Oregon Adventures, Lucas’s ATV business.
He followed his brother to the side of the building to return both quads. Lucas explained to the mechanic what had happened with the ATV he’d ridden.
The man shook his head. “Another one?”
Lucas ignored the mechanic and focused on Jonas. “Seriously, you never told me how long you’re here for. I mean, do you have time to get some lunch? Or are you staying longer?”
Jonas’s stomach rumbled. “Lunch is good for starters.”
Lucas led him to his apartment at the back of the building.
When he spotted Jonas’s motorcycle—a royal blue Suzuki Hayabusa—he released a low whistle. “I’d be tempted to max it out. Two-hundred fifty miles an hour, right?”
“Something like that.” Jonas grinned.
“And you still have your license?”
“What makes you think I’ve driven over the speed limit? That would be breaking the law.”
“Why have such a beautiful thing if you can’t experience it to the fullest? When can I take her for a ride?”
“When you convince me you won’t kill yourself.”
In the kitchen, Lucas made tuna fish sandwiches. He spoke around his mouthful. “So why are you here? Some case you’re investigating?”
Jonas’s appetite fizzled at the words. “Taking some time off. Thought I’d hang out here, if that’s all right.”
Lucas stopped chewing, his left cheek stuffed. He took a swig of a soda then swallowed. “What? You didn't get fired, did you?”
Jonas leveled a frown at Lucas. “Like I said, I’m taking a break.”
He looked at his plate. Instead of a sandwich he saw an agent’s body—the death, his fault. Maybe he’d never been cut out for that type of work. Maybe he would become a private investigator instead, though there wasn’t much call for that in a small town like this. Rumors and gossip took care of things, bringing them into the open.
“What about Darcy? You’re going to see her, right? Her dad died last week. Did you know that?” Lucas wiped his mouth.
“Yeah. I went to the funeral.”
Lucas’s eyes grew wide. “You did? Then you saw her already. And where have you been all this time? The ranch?”
“Carver says hello.”
Lucas frowned. He never got along with Carver, their older brother. “And Darcy?”
“I didn't talk to her.” Jonas finished his soda and crumpled the can.
Enough time had passed that they both should have moved on. Yet he’d done nothing but watch her at the funeral. The grimmest of days, he’d wanted to console her. Instead he stood back, keeping his distance out of respect. Her father had kept them apart, and she’d abided by that. Jonas couldn’t just walk back into her life the day her father was buried.
Jonas had been a senior in high school when her father had come to see him. He’d gotten into the wrong crowd. Darcy’s father had given him the sort of talk only a father would give a troubled teenager. Jonas’s own father had died in a ranching accident two years before, leaving behind four sons. His mother, eight years before that.
Jonas had taken her father’s words to heart and made something better of himself. For her. But he doubted she even knew about it. At least he’d seen Pastor Nichols in the hospital before he died, during a moment when Darcy hadn’t been there. Jonas owed him everything and told her father how he’d changed his life, keeping the recent events to himself.
Pastor Nichols’ regret-filled eyes had brightened a little.
His next words to Jonas could change his life again. Darcy’s father made Jonas promise to watch over his daughter. The only problem—Jonas wasn’t sure if he was up to the task.
Nor was he sure that Darcy would be happy to see him.

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