Chapter 7
They did manage a nap that morning. Dylan helped her with the goats, even trying his hand at milking one of the more mellow of the nannies. Nikki found with relief that she could smile and laugh in the midst of her troubles and chuckled at his attempts at stealing eggs from nests and dodging the kids as they gamboled around him in the enclosure. Finally, both of them grinning and Nikki joking about him quitting security work in favor of goat herding, they headed to the house.
He stretched out on the sofa and she headed to her bedroom and a few hours of rest. As she lay down on her bed, Nikki thought of his words as they’d headed to the goat enclosure. He was sure the arsonist, shooter, and goat killer had the goal of discouraging or punishing her for her desert work. But how was that possible? She was only taking water to the desert, not transporting migrants or even harboring them, though, she had to admit, she’d thought of it a time or two in the cold of the desert winters. Now, they had to find out who would think violence would deter her.
The nap refreshed Nikki and gave her the energy to work on her goat lotions and soaps. But instead of being able to focus on her mixtures, she had to face a determined Dylan. “But I wasn’t planning on going into Animas today.”
“We need to start working on any leads, Nikki. And if Animas is a place you frequent, we need to go there and see what’s what.”
“Animas is where I go if I have to send something by UPS or if I need something in a pinch. If I want to go grocery shopping or such, I go to Lordsburg.”
“So we’ll go both places,” he persisted and she sighed, then headed for the key hook and her shoulder bag.
The tiny town of Animas took very little time to go through. They stopped at the small grocery store, where Nikki rarely shopped, then headed to the UPS hub. She greeted the clerk and chatted for a couple of minutes, introducing Dylan as a friend. She could see the confusion on the young woman’s face when she didn’t produce a package to mail but Nikki tried her best to cover. “Dylan is visiting and wanted to see the village.”
“Really?” Disbelief showed on the clerk’s face. Not many people happened upon the small town and it wasn’t a mecca for tourists. Nikki led the way out of the building and slanted a wry glance at Dylan. “You think she’s our culprit?”
“Haha. Let’s check out the hardware store then head to Lordsburg.”
They were in the truck within the next few minutes and Nikki turned to look at the passing scenery with a smile. Dylan drove with a surety of purpose, just like he’d used in talking to the hardware store proprietor. They’d talked nails and saws, discussed cleaning up from the fire, which the man had known about before they entered the store, and Dylan had kept any opinion of the owner to himself as they’d returned to the truck. Now, on their way to Lordsburg, he concentrated his attention on the road ahead.
Nikki let the silence reign for a few minutes then asked. “What do you think?”
“I think you were right about Animas. No one seems to have anything to say about your desert work. Do they even know?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve not bought any jugs there, not said anything. As I mentioned, I rarely go there.”
“And the other ranchers? I noticed there are some of their cards on the bulletin board in the hardware store.”
“I know some by name, others by sight. I’ve only met a few of the owners. Some are absentees, others go to Douglas or Albuquerque instead of Animas. Maybe their hands go into town to buy beer or something, but I wouldn’t know them.”
He nodded then gestured at the garage on the edge of town. “Let’s see what Lordsburg has to offer.”
They stopped off at the garage, where she had her truck repaired on occasion. Then the town tour began. She took him to the library, the café, where they had a piece of pie and coffee, a stop at the trading post and truck stop, where she took a load of soaps and lotions each month for sale, followed by a stop at the senior citizen’s center. She turned an amazed glance on him when he mentioned that stop. “Most of the people there are old, Dylan.”
“But they hear things, Nikki. Things you and I may think are small and tedious, older people pay attention to.”
She shook her head and introduced him to the regulars that she saw when she came to leave goat hair for spinning. Several of the women there flirted openly with Dylan, either forgetting he was forty years their junior or not caring. Nikki watched as he gently returned their attentions and admired the yarns they made from the goat hair, even trying on some of the knitted and crocheted products they displayed. By the end of the visit, Nikki was convinced she’d all but disappeared from view.
He tucked a knitted scarf into his back pocket as they left the building and then turned to her. “Can we stop at the trading post? I need to pick up some clothes.”
She nodded and led the way to the store. As he shopped for the pants and shirts to replace those he’d lost in the fire, she located the manager of the store and chatted about the soap and lotion sales numbers.
“They’re really taking off this year,” said Phyllis, the manager. “I think the I-10 travelers are spreading the word.”
“Great. Do you need any more? I’ll have the regular order ready next month, but I might be able to bring more if you need them.”
“I’d love a few of the lavender lotion and soap sets. They seem to be our best sellers. If you have any other scents, let me know too. I had a couple of ladies ask for other scents last week.”
Nikki frowned, “Did they want something in particular?”
Phyllis shook her head. “I think they were buying presents and wanted some variety.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Nikki said as Dylan approached them. She introduced him and watched Phyllis’s face break into a sly grin as she surveyed the couple. Anxious to set the woman straight, Nikki started to explain that Dylan was there to help her out when he put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “I’m glad to meet you, Phyllis. I have to say, I’ve been smelling Nikki’s products all week. She’s got a fresh batch curing right now and the whole house is full of the scent.”
Phyllis twittered a laugh. “I can imagine. Nikki is so talented, what with her lotions and soaps. And she does so much for the church here in Lordsburg.”
“Really?” Dylan said, shifting his weight as if settling in for a long conversation.
“Oh yes,” Phyllis said. “She helps out with the Christmas program every year, even takes on the kids if no one else will. And she’s always working on doing more for the illegals. Food distribution, taking up donations of clothes to take to the border station. And even goes out and leaves water for the illegals.” She shook her head at Nikki. “And in the middle of the night. I don’t know where she gets the courage, to go out in the desert by herself.”
“By herself,” Dylan just repeated the words but Nikki heard the encouragement to continue in his voice.
“I know! As if the illegals might not hurt her. And in that old truck of hers. Freddy at the garage told me the other week that he had to replace the shocks in that thing every year from her going out so much. You know if you drive off the roads, it’ll destroy your shocks like that.” She snapped her fingers in front of Nikki, almost taking her nose off.
“You think she should stop?” Dylan asked, his arm still around Nikki. She knew he could feel her tense but he didn’t respond other than with a tightening of his hand.
“I’d like her to, but she won’t. You know Nikki. She’ll keep on watering those illegals, giving them clothes and stuff. It’s who she is, and we have to love her for it.” Phyllis glanced over their shoulders and smiled. “I need to get to work but if you come up with another scent let me know, Nikki. I’m sure we can sell it.”
She sidestepped around them and headed for a customer who was holding up a tan jacket. Dylan looked at Nikki and waited. When she didn’t say anything he asked. “I thought you weren’t that involved in the charity work here in town.”
She shrugged. “The clothing drive didn’t take off. I was the only one collecting things so I discontinued it with the church. Now, if I come across things that can be used in a shelter I just take it to Douglas or Albuquerque.”
“And the food distribution?” he pressed, his tone even but his eyes sparkling with what she was sure was irritation.
“We take up food twice a year. The distribution is done through a community organization. I haven’t been able to help with that because of the ranch work.” She looked up at him with some irritation of her own. “I didn’t think of the food or clothing things because they aren’t regular occurrences, Dylan. They’re just odd things that crop up. If that’s an issue, I’ve also donated old books that I had, and I gave some of Grandad’s old railroad memorabilia to the local museum. I work picking up trash on the side of the road with a youth group four times a year. I volunteer. I like doing things!”
She finished in a near shout, drawing attention to them. Dylan held her gaze for a minute then shifted the clothes in his arms and said, “I need to check out. Then we’re trying out the café again. I saw some milkshakes.”
She sighed and trailed after him, already regretting her outburst. But how was she supposed to remember all of the things she did in town? She enjoyed helping, she enjoyed doing things to keep the small town thriving and in good shape. And she enjoyed interacting with something other than her goats, chickens, and burros occasionally.
Dylan had his milkshake and she had a soda at the café. He chatted easily with the proprietor, talking about his memories of a certain ice cream he’d had in the South. When the owner agreed to try to replicate the chocolate malted dessert, Nikki decided Dylan had some sort of special gift at drawing people in. He’d charmed his way through the town, both men and women. But could he find the person threatening her?
Their last stop was at the hardware store. This one, in contrast to that of Animas, was three times larger and had more to choose from. Dylan went straight for the rental counter where he talked about renting a bucket tractor. Nikki quickly assured him she had a small one but he ignored her and chatted to the clerk instead. “You know, we had a fire set and we need to clean up the place.”
“Really?” The middle-aged man eyed Nikki and said. “I heard there was a fire out past Animas but I hadn’t heard where it was. You okay, Nikki?”
She nodded, “It was my hand house.”
“Didn’t get to your main house or anything did it?” He seemed concerned, which touched Nikki.
“No, we got to it in time.”
“Good thing, too,” Dylan said in deep tones. “A wind could have sent it to the house easy enough.”
“Yeah,” the clerk said and then cleared his throat. “Glad you got it in time. Let me see if I have one of the tractors you want.” He turned his back and headed to a counter a few feet away. Nikki turned to Dylan and said in a low voice. “I have a tractor that we can use, Dylan.”
“I know, I saw it in the equipment building,” he averred. “But I needed a reason to talk to him. What’s his name, Nikki?”
“Mark Williams.” She said with a frown. “Why?”
Dylan shook his head and turned to Mark, who’d returned to the counter. “We’ve got a claw and bucket tractor available to deliver today.”
“Good, but Nikki said she has one. Let me look at it and I’ll come back to town and get yours if it’s too small. She didn’t know if it could handle the load.”
Nikki was ready to kick him. She knew exactly what her ranch equipment was capable of. She started to protest then stopped at his look and turned away. By the time they left the hardware store, she was sure she’d kick Dylan in the shin when they were alone.
“They think I don’t know anything about ranching now, thanks.” She said and stalked to the truck, getting in the driver’s seat. Dylan’s mouth quirked and he headed to the passenger side and slid in.
“Sorry. I wanted to butter the workers up a bit.”
“Well, you did it at my expense. It’s taken me five years to convince them I know what I’m doing. Now, I’m back at square one.”
“But we have some leads,” Dylan said, his tone changing to somber.
“We do?” She asked, glancing at him as she turned down Animas Road.
“Yep. We do. And I know one of the men I need to research more. Mark Williams.”