Page 25 of Desert Angel

“They’ve been married eight years. Have a little boy and a girl, both of them spoiled rotten and bright as can be. Merry works at the elementary school part-time so the kids can’t get into too much trouble.”

“And Dan?”

“He’s the one who spoils them,” Dylan said. “I think he feels guilty not being at home every night. With Antelope Pass being so isolated, he has to stay there while he’s on duty so he doesn’t get to go home every night. Merry seems okay with it but I wonder sometimes. Our dad was the same way.”

Nikki was silent and wondered, if they had a future together, would she have to say goodbye to Dylan for long periods. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she cautioned herself about making plans or even having dreams of a future with him. Just because he said he loved her didn’t mean he was willing to have a future with her. And in such an isolated area.

They met Dan at an intersection and Nikki watched the two men talking intently. She’d elected to stay in the truck, suddenly tired and feeling out of sorts. She wanted to go home, to make her soaps and lotions, and to talk to her animals in peace. She didn’t want to be a crusader. To drive into the dark desert in search of a group of people intent on hurting or frightening innocents only wanting a decent life. Intent on frightening or hurting her.

Dylan stowed whatever it was he’d picked up behind his seat then settled into the driver’s seat beside her. He watched as Dan pulled out and headed back toward Deming then turned to Nikki. “You okay?”

She nodded and slumped into the passenger seat. “Just tired, I guess.”

“We don’t have to do this, you know.” He said as he pulled onto the state road that headed back to the ranch.

“I know.” She said and turned her head away to stare at the desert as it went by. He got the message and turned his attention to the road ahead.

They pulled into the drive at dusk and she went into the house, trying to find something to be positive about. As she changed into her work boots and jacket, she thought about her home in Albuquerque. A one-bedroom apartment in a sterile building, surrounded by manicured desert plants and an occasional small water feature, the apartment community had been as emotionally fulfilling as a blank page. She’d never regretted returning to the ranch and she didn’t now. But did she regret starting her personal mission of leaving water in the desert? Maybe a little, right now.

She headed to the goats and chickens, aware of Dylan trailing silently behind her. As she picked up the buckets and headed to the chickens, she was aware of the self-pity she was entertaining and decided to let it run its course. She murmured her complaints to the hens, dodging the two more cross hens’ beaks as she took their eggs and petted them on their little heads as she left the pen. She met Dylan on the way back to the house and smiled at him, her complaints left with the clucking hens and roosters in their house.

“Feeling better?” he said and reached for her free hand.

She took his and nodded. “The chickens are great listeners.”

He frowned then his face cleared. “Didn’t want to share with me?”

She shook her head. “it wasn’t anything important. Just my pity party.”

When he looked confused she chuckled. “I was feeling sorry for myself and I needed someone to complain to.”

“Oh.” She realized he still didn’t understand but it was okay. He didn’t need to.

They went inside and fixed supper together, eating and talking easily. When the dishes were done Dylan turned to her and said. “You might want to get a nap in. We’ll be leaving around two.”

She nodded and headed toward her bedroom then turned. “Will you try to sleep?”

He nodded, his head down and his attention on a small duffle he was unzipping. “In a bit. Don’t worry. I’ll be alert when I need to be.”

She turned and headed to her bed and, hopefully, an hour or so’s rest. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

13

They didn’t take the truck this time. Dylan stowed his duffle in the four-by-four and patted his sidearm, safely strapped to his waist and covered by his light black jacket. Nikki, similarly dressed in dark blue jeans, wore a dark knit shirt with a long-sleeved dark shirt over it. She’d started to wear her work jacket only to have Dylan shake his head at the light tan color. “We need to blend in.”

“On a four-by-four?” She asked doubtfully. The four-by-four's engine wasn’t known for its quietness.

“We’ll be as quiet as any other group out there. Besides, I’m not planning on driving that much.”

They headed out with the headlights taped to the point that Nikki couldn’t see anything, seated behind Dylan. When she yelled into his ear that he’d wreck them, he assured her he could see. When he shifted to adjust to the small rut they ran through she could just locate the sliver of light that shone from the headlights. Still, she held on and prayed he could make out the terrain enough to keep them upright on the trip.

They’d traveled to the wire fence that made up the border in the bootheel section of the state. Alighting from the ATV, Dylan opened the satchel and removed a couple of items. When he held out a pistol to her, Nikki shook her head. She’d used a rifle in the past to kill snakes and the occasional wounded animal and she still took it in the truck when she left the ranch, but she refused the sidearm now. Dylan didn’t complain or comment but put the gun in his jacket pocket then held out another device. At her hesitation, he explained. “It’s night vision glasses.”

She took them and put them on, amazed at the desert in red. “I thought you had to have goggles to see in the dark.”

“Most of the time they’re better, but these help as well.” Dylan put his own on. “They’re still pretty new and not as effective, but they’ll do. Just don’t look into a light with them. You’ll be blinded for a while.”

She nodded, wondering where he thought they’d see a light in the desert. They walked the perimeter of the fence, seeing a whole lot of nothing in the way of people. Even the migrants were staying away this morning, Nikki thought.

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