Lost MC (The Nighthawks MC Book 4)

by Bella Knight

  Micco stroked the harness. “Soft,” he said.

  “Damn right,” said Aquene. “Soft to hold the dog gently, strong so the dog doesn’t bounce around, even over bumpy roads. Then lots of acceleration, stops and stops.” She pointed to the padding wound around the straps. “Extra cushioning,” she said.

  “They order backup harnesses?” asked Bianca.

  “One each,” said Killa.

  Bianca took out a gold one for the corgi and a silver one for the pug.

  “They like the shiny,” she explained.

  She pulled out a drawer under their barn door table, converted to an apothecary table by simply laying it on metal basket drawers, five high. She slid each strap in a canvas tote with a “Dogs Ride” logo, a person on a Harley with a corgi in a box behind, grinning madly, ears back.

  She went over and put it in the box. Killa and Aquene brought over the boxes, which were examined carefully, inside and out.

  “Look at those seams,” said Bianca, holding up a perfect welded bead. “Beautiful.” They carefully packed the inside of the box with packing peanuts. “Biodegradable,” said Bianca. “Made of cornstarch. The club uses them, too.”

  They packed the boxes under the teens’ gazes, and Aquene and Killa showed them how to print a FedEx label and stick it on the boxes, double-checking all the information twice.

  “The people ordering these get an email with the tracking number,” said Bianca. “It’s all part of the price of ordering the dog box. Killa and Ghost pay us for the straps, cushioning, and shipping.”

  A timer dinged, and Bianca went over to the wide white refrigerator. “Dough’s done.” She took out a plastic cutting board with a clear square on it and floured it.

  Three balls of dough came out, and Bianca punched them back down, put them back in the refrigerator, and set the timer.

  “Has to rise again,” she said. “Don’t just stand there. Wash your hands.”

  The teens all washed up in the sink and washed their hands. The other dough she rolled thin, trading off with the teens, one at a time. Aquene showed the teens how to heat up the oil in the skillet, and when one teen was done rolling the bread into a perfect thin square, then she had another teen cook the flatbread. Soon they had a stack of flatbread that they laid out on racks, and they blotted off the oil with a soft cloth. Bianca packed them in a bakery delivery box, and Henry took Imala and Jaci on the horses to deliver it to Numa’s store.

  Honi said, “Don’t we get some?” in a very sad voice. Everyone laughed.

  “You make it, you eat it,” said Bianca.

  They took turns making the dough, rolling it into squares, and cooking it. Killa helped Aquene shred a chicken they had cooked on a rotisserie the night before, and the teens not directly mixing or cooking were given knives and vegetables. They cooked up onions, peppers, and mushrooms, and Bianca had two more teens quick-cook them, then add the chicken. They also made fresh traditional and mango salsas, and a salad. Henry, Imala, and Jaci came back, and they ate lunch.

  “Now, you have to pay for lunch,” said Henry.

  “How?” asked Honi.

  “Who knows what’s planted in the in the vertical garden?” asked Henry.

  Hands shot up. “We’ve got a spreadsheet,” said Nova.

  “Pull it up on Bianca’s laptop, and take an order,” said Henry.

  “We don’t have an order form,” said Micco. Henry just smiled. “One order form, coming up,” said Micco.

  Tocho said, “We need to attach the forms to a master spreadsheet that removes the order from inventory.”

  “You are so anal,” said Micco.

  Henry and Bianca both laughed. “Those that keep track, succeed,” said Bonnie. “We know every welding bead.”

  “No other way to cut your costs,” said Bianca, “Or keep track of your inventory. Remember, you must replace what you sell.” She showed off her own inventory and subtracted out the harnesses, padding, and packing materials.

  “How do you make a profit?” asked Imala.

  “By definition, when your costs are less than what you sell,” said Henry. “The idea is to maximize profit without stiffing your customers. You must have value.”

  Honi was stunned when he called up the inventory. “That vertical farm was mucho-expensive. How are we gonna get the money back?”

  “We sell flatbread and wheat nut bread to local sandwich stores,” said Bianca. “Those fussy salad greens, the steakhouses, salad restaurants, and upper-level restaurants in casinos love it.”

  “Why do you do so many jobs?” asked Honi.

  Bianca laughed, as did Henry, Inola, Bonnie, Killa, and Ghost.

  Ghost answered. “You cain’t do jus’ one job no mo,” she said. “’Conomy’s too bad. You gotta do yo best fo yoself an’ yo’ family.” Killa smiled and kissed her.

  Bianca laughed even more. “We got goats out in the paddock. We milk them and make goat cheese for the restaurants. We also take them to overgrown places to eat the vegetation on hillsides in California. We’re gonna make salads for the restaurants with your pretty, pretty lettuce, and spinach and greens and package it for you. We also mend fences and watch houses for neighbors when they go. We’ve got eight chickens that lay eggs. And we sell a lot of the harnesses for the dogs; they don’t just go in the boxes. We sell them with hooks and belt tongues for cars. People like getting them for their breed of dog. Makes ‘em happy.”

  “What can we do for you?” asked Imala.

  “And all honor to you, for asking the right question,” said Henry. “What can we do for them that will let us get a discount for the packaging?”

  Imala pulled a notebook out of her small backpack and a pen. “Do you need help with the milking, or the books?”

  “If you can keep track of our books for us, for all our businesses, we’ll take ten percent off the price of packaging.” Bianca’s eyes glittered.

  “That’s insane!” said Honi. “Thirty percent or no deal.”

  “Twenty-five,” said Bianca. “Last offer.”

  The teens gathered in a knot to confer. There was some hand-waving, but Imala convinced Honi to back down.

  “You have a deal,” said Imala, and she shook Bianca’s hand. “Honi will draw up the contract.” Honi groaned, and they all laughed.

  They paid her back for lunch by learning how to milk goats. Micco kept them from eating his shirt, and it became obvious that the goats would do anything Tocho asked them to do. Aquene showed them how to heat the milk, add lemon juice, put the cheese in a cloth, and hang the ball of cloth from a spoon laid over a wide bowl. She showed them the herbs she liked to use.

  The ride back was deafening for David. The teens had a million ideas of how to make money. They voted on some ideas and set up committees. They rushed off to implement their ideas. Micco and Jaci, who had ridden back the slow way on the horses and had to walk and groom the horses, had a small fight to be allowed to vote. The voting was held again, the committees reformed, and they began to argue over posters and how much to charge.

  Gregory finished his work for the day and was picked up by several people in an ancient red pickup.

  “Who’s that?” asked David, escaping the teens by helping her feed the horses.

  “Becky and Halim and Ruche. They’re strait-edgers, no drinking, drugs, sex must involve condoms. They go on hikes, climbs, camping, riding, dirt biking, skateboarding, swimming in the lake, fishing. They apparently cook half the fish and give the rest to a homeless shelter on the way back in. All passed their GED. They are taking on small jobs and saving up to go bungee jumping, base jumping, and paragliding, and for dirt bikes and skateboards.”

  “So, they’re straight but insane,” said Henry, coming in with the ponies and putting each one in its stall.

  “Nantan said he had to find friends his own age,” said Inola.

  Henry nodded. “I knew Nantan would figure out how to handle it in the right way.”

  David nodded. “It is better
this way.” He handed a feed bag to Henry. “But, I believe their paths will intertwine later down the road.”

  Inola nodded. “Can see it coming.”

  Henry went back to David for another feed bag. “Tito took the Cleanup Group to pick up a site before rehab.”

  “They’re not the Cleanup Group anymore. They’re called, ‘We Clean.’ That won over ‘Have Gloves,’ and ‘Will Travel.’”

  Inola mixed up the last of the feed for the stallion; he had been putting on weight and was far less despondent. That very day, he walked around the paddock rather than standing still, his head hanging down.

  “Take this to our Mild Monster at the end,” she said. David walked it down.

  Inola cleaned up the grain she had spilled on the floor. “Tack’s clean, stalls shoveled out, everyone fed and watered. Time for Sister’s fluffy biscuits and ham steaks,” said Inola. She put away the broom and scoop.

  “That woman can cook,” said David. They walked out of the barn together.

  “We ever find out where she’s from?” asked Inola, shutting the door behind them.

  “She’s not Northern Paiute, but no one has claimed her from any of the Southern Paiute reservations. They even called the local hospitals and nursing homes for us, but we got nothing.” Henry shrugged. “We’re checking the Northern Paiute now.”

  “In a way, it doesn’t matter,” said David. “She’s ours now.”

  “We are freaking lucky to have her,” said Inola.

  “We are,” said David.

  Nantan was completely exhausted. He could hardly walk. He’d been up at dawn, checking his tablet, working on the nutrient feed. The LEDs for the pumpkins weren’t making the plants happy; he changed two strips from red to green to see if that improved them. He did his ride. The stallion was beginning to talk to him, to whuff when he arrived and to nibble his hair. Jumper loved to jump and run. He had no doubt she could be trained and sold, or sold to a trainer. He made some inquiries to bring to Henry. The lettuce, cucumbers, peppers, strawberries, and green onions were growing quickly and needed daily watching and harvesting. The fruit trees would, of course, be the last to mature. He planted some ornamental cacti to sell to nurseries after finding one that wanted to put in an order.

  He’d taken the teens in the van to Tito after their horticulture lesson and working with them to build an organizational station for their work boots, work gloves, bandanas, and the like. He used fabric tape to color code them. Tito wanted them to clean out a property he wanted to flip. He left them a toolbox and went back to work on his crops as Tito had them filling up a Dumpster with debris. They would disassemble the broken bikes and refrigerator on property for parts.

  Lunch was a barbecue chicken sandwich, with corn, and Coke. He was going to return the truck when Bianca from the goat ranch called. Apparently, three goats had been rescued and were available for adoption. Gregory picked her up, and they talked harnesses while they went to the rescue society. The goats were fed and watered and had seen a vet, but they needed nutrition. They put padding down on the truck bed and harnesses on the goats, then ferried them back to their small ranch. Bianca helped him clean the back.

  “Never thought of using them for goats,” said Bianca. “I see a new product line in our future.” The new goats and the old goats seemed happy enough together, and Gregory drove back.

  Nantan fussed with nutrients for the plants, picked the first three tomatoes and ate them, and picked up the Wolf Pack in the van. They had filled the Dumpster and had bins full of recycling to be picked up.

  “I’ll take some of them when they get their GED,” said Tito. “Honi is a brown bear. He can lift a tire by himself. Imala can tear down a dead refrigerator completely on her own. Nova is super-quiet but really strong, and a fast worker. All three of them talk in rosters and board feet. I’ll hire all of ‘em. If they play their cards right, they can go to the community college at night and get certificates in stuff. I don’t know what you all are cooking up on that farm of yours, but I’ve never seen kids pull out their homework on breaks. Most of ‘em I gotta watch they don’t tear out the walls for copper pipe, or shoot each other with nail guns. They’re real-good kids.”

  Nantan grinned. “That’s what we like to hear. I’ll tell Henry.”

  “How is Henry?” asked Tito.

  “He’s got the ranch and the animals and the Wolf Pack here well in line.”

  “The Wolf Pack? Yeah, I can see it,” said Tito. “There’s something a little wild about all of these kids.”

  “Be raising hell if we gave them any time off,” said Nantan. “Henry believes in keeping them busy.”

  “Oh, I’ll keep ‘em busy. You tell Henry about the apprentices, you hear? Even got a special program with the union, a stipend, and everything.”

  “Good to know,” said Nantan.

  The teens literally laid over each other in the car, sucking on flavored waters. They filled up the showers; those not first in line finished up homework on the porch.

  Nantan stepped into the garden to call Henry and tell him about the apprenticeships.

  Henry was floored. “You’re serious?” he asked. Nantan said Tito was, and Henry let out a war whoop. “Let me check their birthdays. Think they’re both eighteen next month. Nova’s is in two months. She needs more time here to stop jumping at her own shadow anyway.”

  “What the hell happened?” asked Nantan. “She hasn’t told me.”

  “Both parents addicted to the hard stuff,” said Henry. “Kid got beat on a lot. Her dad died in a car accident when he was high, or I’d have called Child Protective Services.”

  “That’s horrifying,” said Nantan. “I wish he were not dead so that I may kill him myself.”

  “And I as well,” said Henry. “I’m going to tell them they must get their GEDs or it’s a no-go. One or more of them might say ‘no,’ but I doubt it.”

  “We’re taking in new kids,” said Nantan. It wasn’t a question.

  Henry sighed. “I have a waiting list.”

  “We can expand,” said Nantan.

  “Not yet,” said Henry. “But, we will.”

  He took his own shower and met everyone at the house for an outside picnic table meal, a corn chowder, with ham, biscuits, butter, honey, and salads, regular and pasta. Everyone ate as if they’d never seen the food before.

  Before dinner, Nova and Jaci met with Henry, Inola, David, and Nantan. “I really want to thank you guys for taking real-good care of us,” said Jaci.

  “I hear a ‘but’ coming,” said Inola.

  Jaci laughed, and Nova hid her face behind a fall of hair. “We passed our GED. When Nova turns eighteen, two weeks after me, we want to go live with Bianca and Aquene. We love the goats, and now they have three more, and we can do their books and cheese for them, and bake bread.”

  “Since you passed your GED, you have my blessing,” said Inola.

  “We need to fix up that house,” said Henry.

  Nantan groaned internally. He knew for a fact he’d be on a roof in a month, maybe even adding a bedroom, to Bianca and Aquene’s home. He smiled, though. Aquene was fiercely protective, and Bianca even more so. No one would hurt those too.

  “Congratulations,” he said. The girls smiled, and Nova showed part of her face in surprise.

  “Yes,” said David. “It is a good path.”

  After dinner of peach and grape salad, grilled chicken, fry bread, cola, and peach cobbler, Nantan received a call from Juan.

  “Let’s go out,” he said.

  “Juan, I’m so tired I don’t remember my own name.”

  “I’ll bring Ben n’ Jerry’s and a stupid movie,” said Juan.

  “I’ll fall asleep,” said Nantan.

  “I will too,” said Juan. “See? Completely innocent.” Nantan laughed, and invited him over.

  Juan brought over sodas and ice cream. They watched a movie about two men in completely different parts of the world who finally met in the end. Nantan fel
l asleep long before the onscreen men met, his head on Juan’s shoulder. Juan stroked his hair, stopped the movie, propped his feet up on the hassock, and slept too.

  Nantan woke up at dawn. He was stretched out on the couch, a light blanket over him. Juan had left a note. I’ll try again tonight. Nantan laughed, and went to feed horses and plants before feeding himself at the ranch house.

  The kids were in various states of stupor from cleaning up the house for Tito the day before, but they did their chores before Nantan took them out again to the same site. Tito had them on demo. They came back with blisters on their hands and bruised. Nova came back with her hair out of her eyes, a big smile on her face, her hair pulled back. Nantan was stunned. He said nothing, though, as they laid in various states of exhaustion behind him, sucking on drinks from the cooler. When they got back, he let them out to hit the showers. Honi helped him drain the cooler.

  “What happened with Nova?” he asked. “She seems…”

  “Stronger,” said Honi. “I showed her how to swing a sledgehammer, and told her to think about anyone she was angry at. She smashed the whole kitchen before Tito told her to let others have a go at it.”

  “Well,” said Nantan, “That was well done.” Honi grinned at the praise. “Take your clothes and your towel to my room and use my shower. Put the stuff in a canvas sack and bring it back to be laundered here.”

  “Thanks,” said Honi, and took off at a jog.

  Nantan picked some strawberries for dinner and gave them to Imala to take over to the house, then headed over for his own shower when a wet-haired Honi came back from Nantan’s over-the-barn apartment. Nantan made it over to the main house and found everyone already at the table. They sat and dug into potato salad, chicken sandwiches, and salad. Juan showed up on time for dinner, and he was quizzed about his job —an audio/video and computer technician at a casino —and, jokingly, his intentions toward Nantan.

  He blushed, then said, “I intend to date him. If he lets me.” That got a lot of stamping and cheering.