Page 10 of Desert Angel

“He thinks that they are crossing to take jobs, although I know his grandfather hired migrants to work his pecan fields. I remember him mentioning their work ethics.” She shook her head. “Wayne is a mystery. He repairs his fences and puts up wires to keep them out but then again, he doesn’t report the holes in his fence, doesn’t do anything about the people who cross his land. Although I remember he did report some poachers a few years back when they killed one of his steers.”

“Were they arrested?” Dylan asked as they walked to the truck.

“No. The police and border patrol tried to be helpful but there isn’t a lot they can do. The migrants were long gone when Wayne found the carcass.”

“And he was sure it was poaching?”

She huffed a snort. “They built a fire and cooked part of the meat. I don’t know how the fire didn’t spread or wasn’t seen but there you go.” She started the truck’s engine and headed for the next drop-off spot.

During the next two hours, they drove through her land, bouncing and swerving over the ruts and scrub, leaving the truck to walk a few yards and leave jugs, then repeat the procedure. A couple of times, they spotted scraggly lines of people walking through the land, only to have them scatter when the truck’s headlights hit them. When Dylan looked at her in question, Nikki shook her head. “I’ve tried twice to talk but they only want jobs and to be left alone.”

He looked surprised and she nodded. “I know. I know the women and children are hungry and tired, but they don’t want to leave the group generally, and the men want to get to a place where they can get work and shelter.”

“Does Lordsburg have shelters?”

She shook her head. “I think a lot of the migrants have connections in the area, but not in Lordsburg. Maybe in Albuquerque, or in Douglas. But I haven’t found anyone in Lordsburg or Animas that run shelters.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t started one.”

She looked at him to see if he was joking or being sarcastic but he didn’t seem to be. “I’ve thought about it but I don’t have the assets and I don’t think I could get the help I’d need to do that here.” She was silent for a minute then continued. “I was active with an organization in Albuquerque but they were spread thin. Too thin to help here.”

“So, you’ve gone beyond thinking of it,” he said as they stepped out of the truck to take the last jug to its spot. She nodded. “If I can help I will.”

And that was the point of it all, Nikki thought finally. She’d continue to help the migrants in any way she could. Even if it meant she was in danger.

6

They were driving toward the house when a glow over the rise alerted Dylan. “How fast can this truck go?”

Nikki looked at him then at the glow on the horizon. She sped up and they bounced and jerked over the next mile and topped the small rise that had obstructed their view of the ranch’s buildings. The view now was that of a fire blazing.

“Oh, God,” Nikki murmured and pushed the truck even harder. Dylan held onto the OG handle above his door and grimaced at the sight before him. The house, thank God was intact but also in danger from the wind and drifting embers. The equipment building was built of metal so was out of danger, except from heat. But the old ranch hand cabin was fully engulfed in flames.

They jerked to a stop between the house and the hut and Dylan jumped from the truck and headed to the equipment building and the water spout along the side of the structure. He jerked the long hose coiled up on the wall and fitted it to the faucet then started running with the hose toward the hut, shouting for Nikki to turn on the faucet. As he pointed the hose toward the base of the flames, he found himself praying the fire didn’t spread.

They worked alone for several minutes before Wayne’s truck sped into the compound and he sprang from his truck. He rounded the vehicle came out with a shovel and started in with it, pushing flames and dirt back into the fire. Together, the three of them worked for what seemed like hours, water and dirt becoming mud and steam. Finally, the flames died as the old wooden building collapsed into itself and the fire became red embers. One by one, each of them stepped back to watch the embers glow, then fade. Nikki sank onto the ground, her face flushed from the heat and her hair sprinkled with white and gray flakes from the smoke. Dylan doused the embers again then joined Nikki and watched as Wayne shoveled several more minutes, apparently determined to get the last of any embers into the center of the structure. When he turned to stare at the two of them, sitting side by side in the dirt, his face darkened.

“What were you thinking?”

Nikki and Dylan looked at him and he continued. “You didn’t call anybody, did you?”

“Who would I call, Wayne? We don’t have a fire department,” Nikki said in confusion.

“Me! You call me!” He shouted, his smoke-stained face dark with anger. She raised her brow.

“You came.”

“But after I saw the light from the fire,” he spat out and Dylan slanted his head.

“You live close enough to see the fire?”

Wayne sputtered for a minute then admitted, “I was on my way over to check about the window. I saw the fire on the way over.”

“Good luck for us, huh.” Dylan drawled and got a glare from Wayne who continued to berate Nikki.

“You don’t think, do you? You don’t think to call and ask for help. You only want to do things yourself. Never asking for help. Trying to take care of the world on your own. Well, it’s coming back to bite you in the rear, missy. It’s coming back.”

He stalked off then, throwing his shovel into the truck with a clang and then getting in and driving off with a spray of dirt and rock that further covered the smoke and dirt-covered pair. As Nikki held her arm up to shield her face she murmured, “Thanks for the help, Wayne.”

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