Desert Angel: Brotherhood Protectors World

Chapter 1

Nikki sighed as she turned out the kitchen light and headed toward her bedroom. The last of the goat’s milk soap was finished, in time for seasoning and then delivery to the trading post in town. Maybe this year would be profitable, unlike the previous five years.

She’d just opened her bedroom door when a crack followed by the distinct sound of breaking glass brought her around. She instinctively pressed her back against the wall of the hall between her living room and bedroom, then inched her way toward the source of the sounds. Just at the edge of the doorway, she glimpsed shards of glass on the floor, reflecting the desert moon outside the now shattered double window. Another crack of sound sent her into a crouch as she watched another pane in the window burst into pieces and shower the floor and sofa with slivers of glass.

She didn’t dare try to get to the phone on the sofa table and her cell phone was next to useless in this terrain, so Nikki scooted toward her bedroom and the old cordless on her nightstand. Taking a breath to calm her shuddering heart, she plucked the portable receiver off the table and started dialing. Within a few seconds, she had the state police on the way. She remained crouched by the bed, unsure what to do next. Her heart pounded against her chest and she started to feel faint from her rapid breathing. As she closed her eyes to focus on taking a few deep breaths, Nikki also said a prayer. “Father, thank you for keeping me safe. Help me to be calm and know what to do next.” And tell me who would be shooting at me, she added after her amen, again, breathing in what she hoped was a calming draft of air.

Within a few minutes, she heard the sound of a vehicle crunching over the dirt road near her house and she ventured out into the hallway, her nerves still on edge.

Instead of the police officers she’d expected, Wayne French stood on her covered portico, his hat in his hand. Why would it be him to show up? With a frustrated sigh at the nature of the desert gossip machine, she unlocked and opened the door.

“Hi Wayne, come on in.” She led the way into the main room, its brown tiled floor now littered with glass from the window.

“What happened?” He asked, glancing around. He’d laid his hat on the entryway table and now stood with his fists on his lean hips, his feet spread apart, as if he were surveying his vast property. Nikki quelled the rise of resentment as she thought of the land that had once been her ancestors’, now safely in his large hands. Wayne wasn’t to blame for the selloff of the majority of the Hill ranch, hard times in the past were. She silently sent up a prayer for forgiveness for her thoughts and shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe some guys passing through on their way up from the border. Maybe someone drunk and lost in the desert.”

“Or maybe someone trying to send you a message about your do-gooding,” he inserted abruptly.

“My do-gooding?” His term might be accurate, technically, but it still rankled.

“Well, what else would you call taking water out on your property for the illegals crossing the border?”

“I’d call it being humane,” she shot back, though she didn’t change her tone. This was an old argument between them. Conscious of land conservation and as environmentally friendly as they came, Wayne still had very set opinions on the matter of illegal aliens crossing the border and consequently, their ranch land, on the way to northern towns.

She surveyed the worn leather easy chair in the corner of the room for glass shards before sitting in it. “Wayne, you know migrants have been crossing the border for generations. We’re not going to stop it, but at least I can make sure no one dies of thirst on my land.”

“It was a one-time thing, Nikki, and you don’t know they died of thirst.”

Nikki thought of her grandfather’s face when they found the couple lying in the high desert. Though the death masks on their faces still haunted her dreams, more than that, her grandfather’s pain and sadness at the waste of life multiplied the pain exponentially. His words, his prayer for the lost souls in the desert had resounded in her teenage mind and stayed with her. Now, when she took the jugs of water into the desert, she did so with his memory’s blessing.

“I won’t take that chance again,” she said quietly then looked toward the sound of more tires on the dirt road.

Fifteen minutes later, Nikki had completed her statement and sent the police officers on their way with the assurance she’d not disturb the outside area until they could return in the morning to investigate. She had to reassure Wayne she’d be safe for the rest of the night, even if she had her doubts.

“I don’t need to go to your house, Wayne. I’ll find some plywood out in the utility building and fix the window for the night.”

He hit his leg with his hat as if dusting it clean, though the tan Stetson didn’t dare get a sweat stain or smudge on it. “I can come over tomorrow-“

“No. If you want to help carry the board over, that’s fine, but I’m staying in my own house tonight.” Her tone convinced him she was serious and he turned on his heel and headed out her front door. Nikki glanced at the glass still littering the floor and let out a long, tired sigh. She’d be up late tonight.

Dylan glancedup at his sister as she entered the den, a portable phone receiver in her hand. “You have a call from a guy named Hank,” she said, holding the phone out to him. Frowning, Dylan laid the book he’d been trying to read down and glanced at his cell phone, lying useless on the side table. Almost midnight. He accepted the phone from his sister and waited until she’d left the room before answering. “Hi, Hank. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to check in with you and see how you’re shaping up.”

“I’m good. I’m back on PT, so I should be ready for another assignment in a week or so.”

So, he was hedging, Dylan thought. He’d only started running that morning and it had made him so short of breath he’d almost blacked out. The stab wound and resulting punctured lung had set him back over six weeks now and he was ready to get back to work.

“You’re missed. Look, I got a call from a State Police captain in Lordsburg, near you. Seems like a woman had some shots fired into her house and they’re worried about her safety.”

“So why aren’t they looking into it?”

“Captain says he is but there’s some sensitivity issues. Something about her doing some charitable work that may be questionable.”

“Questionable charity?” What was that? If she lived near Lordsburg, where the most populated town was in the single thousands, she didn’t have a lot of options for charity work.

“That’s what he said. Anyway, would you be up to checking it out? I’m not sure if she could cover the cost of our services, let alone be agreeable to them, seeing as how she has no idea we exist.”

Dylan grimaced. Hank was a fantastic leader of the Brotherhood Protectors. As an ex-Navy Seal, he had the training and know-how to lead his ex-military personnel in security and bodyguarding tasks, but he also had a reputation, fast growing now, of being a guy that could be called on for the difficult and the oddball cases. The more complicated the issues, the better he liked it.

“Sure. Where is she and what’s her name?”

He typed in the directions and GPS details on his phone before muttering the name Hank mentioned. “Nikki Hill, got it.” He saw his sister enter the room as he added her name as a contact, though it would be a temporary one, he was sure. He ended the call with an assurance he was on the mend and up to the hour or so trip south and then glanced at his sister.

“Did I wake up the kids?”

She shook her head and then crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame, her gaze steady on him. “I thought you had another three weeks’ leave before you had to report back to Montana.”

He shrugged, “It’s a drive and interview job, nothing strenuous.”

“Did I hear you say something about Nikki Hill?” She didn’t move from her position, but Dylan felt her intensity.

“Yeah, you know her?”

She shrugged, “Dan does. He’s had a couple of encounters with her.”

“Really?” His interest piqued, he settled himself and waited for her to continue.

“He just mentioned that he had to interview a couple of people about some migrants coming over their land a few months ago. She was one of them. He said she was nice and brings the agents fresh eggs and goat cheese every month or so.”

“Really.” Dylan’s brother-in-law worked as a border patrol agent and had the distinction of working at the least busy crossing along the border. And probably the most remote, from what Dylan had seen.

She nodded. “I asked him if I needed to be jealous and he laughed and said he’d not be interested in a woman who compared every man she met with the guy who walked on water. And much as I love him, Dan would sink like a stone,” she laughed with all the assurance of a woman who knew she was adored.

“I’ll be interested in meeting her,” Dylan said and stood then winced as his still tender scar twinged. At Merry’s frown, he waved her off before she could coddle him. “I’m fine. I’m going to turn in so I can be on the road early in the morning. This Nikki lives pretty close to the border.”

He started out of the room before turning around again. “You got a local map?” At her nod, he followed her to the small room that acted as both a dining room and office and waited as she extracted a well-used atlas. He shook his head as he started for the guest bedroom. “I’ve got to dig out my sat phone.” Nothing worked in the southern New Mexico desert short of one.

Merry trailed behind him, checking the doors and shutting off lights. As she did, they talked low about the desolation of the area Nikki Hill lived in. Dylan also thought of how easy it would be to shoot and kill someone in a house twenty miles from another soul and get away with it.

Nikki chuckledat the sight of her goat kids romping around their mothers. The incident of the night before seemed less intrusive and frightening when in the light of day she could watch her goats gambol and her chickens cluck. She turned and followed the line of dust as a vehicle approached on the old dirt road leading from State Highway 338 and toward her house. The peppers were safely in the ground and she’d made sure the pecan groves were in decent shape for the season. Any problems encountered by the skeleton crew of workers she had should be able to be taken care of by phone. So, not Ephram or Luis. Still, the big black SUV, now dusted with a liberal coat of brown, headed into her compound and parked before a man exited, his rich brown hair shining in the morning sunlight.

“Ms. Hill?” he asked as he approached the goat enclosure. Nikki noted his posture and wondered if he were a policeman or other law enforcement official. Something about the way he moved sent forth an aura of, not menace or a threat, but of determination and control, of danger. But not to her.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” She dodged a head butt from a tiny goat and left the enclosure, making sure the gate was securely fastened. She didn’t stop until she’d set the small food bucket in the shade of the utility building and then turned to face her visitor.

“I heard you had some trouble last night.”

She smiled as she remembered all the old westerns her grandfather had watched. The line was straight out of a shoot ”em up, as Grandad had called the B movies. “Trouble, Sheriff?”

He opened his mouth then grinned at her and cocked a hip and added with a horrible drawl, “Well, Miss, I hear tell you had some varmint take some pop shots attcha.”

Nikki’s smile faded as the import of the previous night’s events hit her again. She started walking toward the house and said over her shoulder, “And you are?”

“Sorry, my name is Dylan Wright. I’ve been asked by the state police captain to check and see if you need some security.”

She frowned. She’d met Captain Wallace several times over the past five years she’d been back in the area but didn’t know him well. Still, he should realize she wasn’t in the market for a security system, nor were her finances. “I’m sorry you wasted your time on the drive out here, Mr. Wright, but I’m not interested in buying a security system.”

He cocked his head to one side and studied her. “You had a scary thing happen last night, yet, though your window is boarded up right now, you’re out tending to your animals just like it’s a regular day.”

She gestured toward the goats, content in their enclosure and then toward the chicken house and yard down the way. “Whether my day is going well or not, I still have responsibilities to my animals and my ranch. And I don’t have the extra funds to cover a security system that would be hardly used.” She wanted to walk back into her house and figure out the rest of her morning, the replacement of the window, as well as her plans for an outing to the far boundary of her land. Instead, she was standing in the middle of her yard, facing a very attractive, yet disturbing man who was asking too personal questions.

Wait, could he be part of the incident last night? “And what company did you say you were with?” She narrowed her eyes at him and, oddly enough, he relaxed his stance and then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bulky-looking cell phone then offered it to her.

“Call the State Police captain. I’m legit.”

She accepted the phone and then dialed the number for the state police. When the operator answered, she realized the phone was working. Casting a surprised look up at Dylan, she received a slight smile in return. “It’s a sat phone. I’m used to being in places where the signal is null.”

As she waited for the transfer to the captain’s phone, she wondered at his remark. Did he work in many remote regions? The New Mexico bootheel was the perfect null space for cell phones, with its mountains surrounding valleys like hers. She was used to relying on walkie-talkies for on-the-range communication and the landline for all other communication, but outsiders weren’t.

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.”