Page 3 of Desert Angel

When the captain came on the line, she asked him about Dylan Wright as the man stood eyeing her. “Oh, he’s there, already? Great. I called Hank Patterson last night, didn’t think he’d already have a man on the ground. You can trust the Brotherhood Protectors, Nikki.”

“Brotherhood Protectors?” Nikki asked and Dylan quietly asserted, “I’ll explain more when you’re finished with the captain.”

“Take the time to talk to him, Nikki. You know your granddad wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, and neither do I. And gunshots in your backyard, or front, in your case, is just too unusual for you to ignore.”

“But your office is following up on the shooting, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, but you live out of the way, Nikki. Your closest neighbor is Wayne and he’s worried too.”

“I know,” she sighed at the thought of the persistent Wayne, always wanting her to rely on him for everything. Maybe if she talked about the security system at least she could get him off her case.

“Are you coming out today? The officers said something about looking at the scene in the daylight.”

The captain paused for a minute before responding, “Probably not til later this morning. There was an accident on 338 this morning, a cattle truck overturned and the crew has been out there for a while. I’ll give you a call later this morning. And can I talk to the BP guy for a minute?”

“BP?” she asked, confused until her visitor held out his hand for the receiver. She’d finally figured out the abbreviation for Brotherhood Protector when she heard him say he’d be happy to check out the scene. Well, not without her there.

When he disconnected the call he looked at her with a steady, brown-eyed gaze. “I guess I have some explaining to do.”

With a nod, she led him to the house and into the kitchen where she started a pot of coffee. As she retrieved milk from the fridge and sugar, along with mugs for the drinks she pondered the situation she was in. Her life, steady and with little change since she’d moved back from Albuquerque to take over the ranch, had the same schedule. Work, crafts and housework, desert work. No real changes or chances taken. Now, it seemed everything was changing.

She poured coffee for both of them, adding cream and sugar to her own, and seated herself at the worn kitchen table. When Dylan sat across from her, she took a sip to center her thoughts then looked at him in question. He took a drink of his black brew and leaned back and retrieved something from his back pocket. He slid his wallet, now open, across the table and Nikki picked it up then studied the ID displayed in a sleeve. His photo was too attractive for a DMV photo, but then so was he. A logo featuring wings and Brotherhood Protector superimposed in front of them was accompanied by his name and nothing else. “No contact information?” She asked as she held the wallet out for him to take.

As he leaned to the side to replace the folded leather case, he replied, “I’m not the initial contact so I don’t need a contact number. I’m a workhorse in the outfit.”

“And the outfit is—”

“Brotherhood Protectors is an organization headed by Hank Patterson. We’re all ex-military with skills that are conducive to security. Bodyguard, specialized systems, that sort of thing.”

“A paramilitary force?” She asked, her tone hardening, and Dylan smiled.

“No. Hank started the organization after he came out of the Navy and after his old high school sweetheart was being stalked by a fan. She’s Sadie McClain.”

“The movie star?” She didn’t see many movies nowadays but even Nikki remembered Sadie McClain and her vibrancy.

“Yep and now Hank’s wife. Anyway, she had some difficulty and he helped her out of it by guarding her and finding the stalker. After that, he saw some benefit in hiring ex-military personnel to do jobs like bodyguarding and so on. A lot of ex-soldiers come out with specialized training like in military police or special units and don’t have a lot of job prospects. Hank helps them out with legitimate and legal work.” He emphasized the last several words and she acknowledged them with a nod, though she might do some research on her own of the organization’s work.

“You were in the military, then. For how long?” She sipped her coffee as an excuse to study the man across from her. He was fit and too attractive for her comfort. The shiver he sent through her with his gaze was something she hadn’t felt in years, hadn’t really remembered feeling to the intensity of today, ever.

“I was in the Army for ten years. I came out and worked in private security for a couple of years then a buddy told me about Hank and the BP. Since I have a decent background in security it felt like a good fit. And it has been.”

She nodded then sighed. “I appreciate Captain Wallace’s concern and your traveling here. But I don’t have the funds to install a system in the house, let alone the exterior of my property.”

“Ms. Hill, BP doesn’t only install systems. As a matter of fact, that’s not our focus. Our focus is personal security. I’m here for you.”

2

Dylan watched Nikki’s expression shift as she realized the impact of his statement. He wondered a bit at the intensity of the protective feelings this woman he’d never met before elicited. With her dark hair curling around her face, her eyes alive with wary interest, he knew the attraction he felt was at least being reciprocated, if not acknowledged.

“When your house was shot at, Captain Wallace felt it might be more than nuisance or an accidental or negligent occurrence. He mentioned that you have a reputation for setting some people off in the region.”

She huffed a breath and leaned back, setting her coffee cup down on the table. “I suppose I do, at least I’ve heard that from a couple of people. I haven’t had any direct messages to the effect that people in the area disapprove of what I do.”

“What is it exactly that you do?”

“I take water into the desert for the migrants crossing the border.”

Well, that wasn’t what he’d expected. When he’d gotten the call from Hank, Dylan had figured the woman in the remote desert house was an environmentalist, an animal rights activist, or such. Not a woman who’d taken on the issue of illegal aliens. Even in a state known for its more moderate politics, New Mexican residents still struggled with the issue of illegal aliens crossing their lands.

---