Osprey Gold

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OSPREY GOLD Thomas Lion

~1~

Dusk settled over Osprey Mountain, cloaking the gravel switchbacks in shadows. From his post inside the old fire lookout tower, Jesse focused his rifle scope on a plume of dust rising in the canyon below. A jeep's engine strained against the steep grade. Bad timing. Jesse's heart raced.

With a heavy sigh, he contacted the sanctuary compound.

Zara's breathy voice, overlaid by the ethereal resonance of singing bowls, answered, "I thought you had left for the night. Missing me already?"

"Are you answering the boss's calls?"

"Only yours," she said, lingering on the pause. "They're meditating. Want me to interrupt their spiritual pursuits?"

The Jeep, emerging from the riverside canyon's concealing foliage, cast its beams across the darkness. Jesse refined his aim. "Intruders detected on the road. Deer hunters, most likely."

"Grown men playing soldier," Zara scoffed.

"If I don't play soldier, they might ban me from the sanctuary."

"We wouldn't want that," she snapped.

The Jeep veered toward the Lyon family's vineyard, bypassing the sanctuary compound at the mountaintop end of Osprey Falls Road. "False alarm," Jesse muttered. "No need to piss off the old man yet. I'll stay up here a little longer."

"I could bring you coffee," Zara offered, her voice a seductive whisper. "Warm you up."

"You wild gypsy rebel. Want your family to catch us hanging out together?"

"Perhaps," she replied mischievously.

Jesse lowered the rifle but kept his eyes on the vineyard below, where the Jeep's headlights now illuminated the vineyard. Something about this felt wrong. The harvest wasn't happening until tomorrow, and the Lyons never came after dark.

"Duty calls," he said. "I'll keep you informed."

After the call ended, Jesse scanned the valley through his scope. Three years since his discharge, two years since that disaster in DC, and he was still working security with men he didn't trust. The Stepanovs had promised him a fresh start when they bought most of Osprey Mountain from his family. A sanctuary for veterans, they'd called it. Somewhere to heal.

But promises had a way of thinning out.

Screeching brakes from the road below snapped him back. The Jeep had stopped near the vineyard. He adjusted the scope. Focus on the mission.

Minutes later, the familiar scent of patchouli preceded Zara's arrival. She'd removed her hiking boots to sneak up on him, but he'd known she was coming the moment he smelled her perfume. He should have stopped it then and there.

Instead, he acted surprised when she kicked the door open.

******

Thomas Lyon parked the rental Jeep at the edge of the rugged ravine and killed the engine. "Home sweet home."

He smiled at his passenger, whose olive skin had gone pale during the switchback climb. The scent of mountain earth and pine stirred memories he'd buried for too long. "This is tranquility."

"This is the Wop-wops!" Kathryn's New Zealand accent cut through the quiet as she pried her fingers from his thigh.

"I warned you it was remote," Thomas said, stepping out to open her door. He offered his hand with an exaggerated bow. "Come on, my lady. The magical mystery tour begins now."

"That was one hell of a drive." She stood stiffly, shaking out her legs. "My foot's asleep and--"

"Look," he interrupted, gesturing west where they'd just driven for hours from Seattle.

Her brown eyes widened as she took in the sunset-lit peaks, the golden light spilling across the canyon.

"And listen." He guided her to the shoulder, where they gazed down into the great ravine. The river's song drifted up through the twilight.

"Lovely." She huffed, hands on hips. "Now show me this Shangri-La vineyard home sight of yours my blue eyed American."

They walked to the vineyard entrance, surprised to find the gate hanging open. Inside, rows of grapevines stretched toward the darkening sky, their leaves rustling in the breeze. The sweet-sharp smell of fermenting fruit welcomed them.

"Let's set up camp here," she suggested at a picnic table near the first row.

He nodded. "It will be dark soon. I'll get the tent."

"I'll fetch the chili bin," she added.

They pitched the tiny tent together in easy silence, the kind that comes from months of learning each other's rhythms. She draped something across the tent roof--a cloth adorned with a flightless brown bird beneath the New Zealand flag.

"Your national bird?" Thomas asked.

"The kiwi, our flightless national bird. Thought it might make this place feel like home."

"At least you've spread your wings."

"How could I resist?" She chuckled.

A piercing cry broke the moment. A massive bird dove toward them, banking away at the last second.

Kathryn grabbed his arm. "What in the bloody hell was that?"

Thomas tilted his head back, letting out a series of sharp whistles that echoed across the vineyard. "Just one of our resident pterodactyls." He laughed as the graceful bird circled back toward them, repeated his call perfectly, then flew off over a long row of grapes.

"So, you are a pterodactyl whisperer."

"Osprey whisperer, my dear." His mind drifted back in time as he watched the friendly predator land on a vineyard row trellis post. "Ospreys call this mountain home from spring until fall, then migrate south for winter. The lake, the valley, the city are all named for them." He smiled, recalling the injured osprey he nursed back to health as a boy. After that experience, these rulers of the valley called out to him until he mastered their language. Welcome or warning, that's what their cries had always meant.

"Earth to Thomas," she said, tugging his hand.

He pulled her close, crooning softly, "When I'm deep inside of me, don't get too concerned. I won't ask for nothing when I'm gone..."

"You are a character. Honestly."

"No, honesty," he corrected, pulling her closer. "Hardly ever heard, but mostly what I need from you."

"How'd you end up being a walking jukebox of ancient tunes?"

"Mom and dad's vinyl collection. Got burned into my brain like all their old-style thinking." Thomas gazed up at the emerging stars, remembering endless summer nights on this same slope. "Some things never grow old. Maybe I was born a couple of decades too late."

Her finger pressed against his lips. "You're drifting again."

"That bird just welcomed me home." He squeezed her hand. "Good omen. Take a walk with me."

Moments later the osprey cried out again as they walked between rows of malbec grapes tasting a few--sharper this time. Thomas froze. Fresh scat marked the dirt path. Tiny paw prints. Something rustled in the torn bird netting ahead.

"Yo bear! Go bear!" His shout echoed across the vineyard.

Two black bear cubs bolted from the vines and scrambled toward the fence line. Thomas guided Kathryn back toward their tent, moving deliberately, calmly.

"Crickey! Those were bears!"

"Welcome to the wild side of wine country, love." He pulled her close, feeling her heart racing. "Just grin and bear it."

"Bob's your uncle. Wee little bears! Do they attack people?"

"Maybe Kiwis," he kidded her. "Although I do believe you're too svelte to be much of a meal." He ran his fingers through her long dark hair. "Want the truth my svelte Kiwi Kat?"

"Yes please. Always, just as we agreed." She pleaded.

"Not without provocation, unless of course you get between a mom and her cubs. These gentle black bears have roamed this mountain forever."

"What do they eat?"

"Grass. Wild berries. Grapes. Anything to fatten up before winter hibernation."

"What about the harvest tomorrow? Seems a worry to me." She took a deep breath.

"Someone left the gate open, and a couple of curious cubs got in. No worries, babe. It would take an army of bears to eat this crop. It's just nature."

Kathryn exhaled. "Quite an experience indeed. Never see that living in my island nation."

"I promised you adventure," he said walking away toward the Jeep. "I'll bring our rig into the vineyard and park by the tent. You rustle up some snacks."

"Sounds a plan," she replied.

Minutes later, while she arranged crackers, cheese and quince paste on the picnic table beside the flickering camp light, Thomas retrieved a special treat from the Jeep.

Kathryn held a cracker to his lips as Thomas uncorked a bottle of wine. He poured a taste into a plastic cup and handed it to her.

As she sipped with delight, he gestured toward a nearby open space called Bear Meadow. "Well, what do you think of it?"

"Very sweet of you," she said pointing out the 1986 vintage on the malbec label. "My birth year."

"Not the wine." He cleared his throat. He had brought her here a day earlier than he told his parents, so she could get a feel for the land before the inevitable stress of meeting the family. "What do you think of this place."

Kathryn sat with her arms folded atop her knees scanning the meadow and beyond where the curvy bays of Lake Osprey shimmered in emerging moonlight. She turned to him and frowned.

He filled her cup and placed a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I'm detecting something," she said blinking her eyes. She tapped her forehead. "It's getting clearer now." She jumped up, whirled around and pointed. "Over there!"

"Where? I can't see anything." Thomas bit his lip.

She grabbed his hand.

He felt her trembling. "You're afraid. Is it the bears?" He took a deep breath.

She shook her head and sighed. "I see a log cabin rising over there in that peaceful meadow. And yes, I am afraid. I see mornings with coffee on a porch. I see... everything you promised." Her voice caught. "I'm afraid I've found my calling. I love it here."

Thomas exhaled. "I don't make many promises these days but aim to keep the ones I do." He brought her here for a test some tiny dark part of him hoped she would fail. Now, to his great surprise, she loved the homesite, for which the biggest part of him was greatly relieved.

A meteor streaked across the infinite autumn sky. They made wishes, drank the wine, and toasted their good fortune of having found each other. He drew her close and they twirled slowly in a magical dance that ended making love in a tiny tent beneath a million stars.

Later, intoxicated by her presence, he stroked her hair and sang softly. "I would not leave you in times of trouble. We never could have come this far. I'll take the good times. I'll take the bad times." He paused before singing words he doubted, he might ever sing. "I love you just the way you are."

She sighed whispering, thank you, to the stars above for granting her wish.

He covered her with a blanket, feeling the warmth of her against him, and let himself believe--for the first time in years--that coming home was possible. That starting over might actually work. "Stay close to me."

"No need to ask. Life is good my Thomas," she whispered before fading away.

Under the spell of afterglow, Thomas hoped she slept deep and fast in a place where she felt safe and sure he was the one and Osprey Mountain was the great adventure missing in her life.

But as he drifted toward sleep something deep inside of him knew hearing the ospreys' warnings, seeing cubs without mamma bear was anything but normal in this place where nothing happened out of the natural world order without human interference.

******

Jesse broke free from Zara's grasp and wiped fog from the lookout window. Through his scope, he studied the tent in the vineyard below--the foreign flag draped across its roof catching moonlight.

"Why are you so distracted?" Zara asked, striking a pose.

"It's my job."

"Is the woman you're watching attractive?"

Jesse sighed. "Hard to tell from this distance. Might need to do a closer inspection. I'll let you know."

She muttered something in Romanian and slapped his hand.

"Time for you to put on them fancy pajamas and get back home to papa, princess."

"That place is not home." She replied with a pouty face. "It is a prison. And that man is not my papa." Zara finished dressing and departed with a huff. "Give me half an hour," she said as she disappeared down the stairs, "then he will call."

After she left, Jesse focused his night vision binoculars back on the camp. The man emerged from the tent, shining a flashlight toward the distant fence line.

Stay put, buddy. Mind your own damn business.

The woman stepped out--moonlight catching her nude silhouette--and took the man's hand. They returned to the tent, and the light went out.

Jesse sighed. This guy looks familiar, he was thinking when his ring tone summoned him.

"Report," ordered the deep voice of the caller. "Zara tells me you checked in."

"We have campers in the vineyard. Probably here for tomorrow's harvest," Jesse said. "They pitched a tent just inside the gate."

"Are you absolutely certain of that location?"

"Yes sir." Jesse paused, listening to the heavy breath on the other end. "I know that's not what you want to hear. Especially tonight. But they haven't gone near the upper fence line."

Silence stretched between them. Coyotes yipped from afar. An owl called out to its mate from the giant ponderosa pine by the lookout tower window.

"They're in harm's way," Jesse added.

More silence. Then: "Extract them by dawn. If you fail, I'll have Bo's men pay them a visit."

"No need for that, sir. They pose no threat."

A long pause. Then, in a softer voice: "Have a blessed night, Parker."

******

Jesse James Parker packed his duffel bag and made his way to his dual wheel Dodge Ram 3500 truck. As he placed his rifle in the gun rack, he noticed a fog bank moving up the mountain from the lake and smiled. He selected his favorite country song from his play list, put a lighter to his glass pipe and took a deep puff of Mango Tango, his latest therapeutic cannabis strain.

After cranking up the volume and exhaling, Jesse navigated the treacherous curves of Osprey Falls Road with practiced ease, headlights off, guided only by moonlight and muscle memory, just for the rush.

And all the way down the winding road, he wondered if the man in that tent was the prodigal Lyon son, finally returning to stake his claim on a mountain kingdom that Maximous Stepanov now controlled.

******

October 17, 2025 9 AM Last Revs Pre GK

I am inviting collaboration, not surrendering control.

I will revise with rigor, not perfectionism to protect emotional realism while staying open to structural feedback. I've seeded arcs that will pay off with grace and grit.

C1 GOALS: Establish setting and timeline, chemistry between MC Thomas and Romantic interest Kat preserving intended playfulness and New Zealand traits BUT NOT at the expense of pacing or clarity. Introducing 4 characters plus the bears and Ospreys who will appear in the ending with graceful full circle arcs.