As she slid between the sheets, she could hear the promised rain sporadically hitting the roof. Soon the drops fell in a relaxing patter, and she began to drift.
Her rambling thoughts strayed to her new neighbor. Ruggedly handsome with his dark skin and hair and those devastating ebony eyes, he had an aura about him that made its way into her fantasy.
In his maturity, Brett had acquired a lean, muscular body that attracted her in a purely sensuous way. He wasn't the skinny kid next door anymore, but an experienced, if somewhat jaded, man with an intriguing past. That he had integrity was obvious from his actions: he'd come to help her and remained through the time of crisis. He had even stayed to help her close the chimneys, a time consuming job, but one that she and Diego could have handled.
Still, part of her wanted to believe that he hadn't simply stayed out of a sense of duty, but because he had wanted to be there.
Even in her semi-dream state, though, Annie knew it was folly to think Brett wanted to be with her. The man didn't want to be back in Silver Creek at all, and he wouldn't be staying long. The sooner she accepted that fact, the better off she would be.
Between her exhaustion and the rhythmic patter of the rain, Annie willingly succumbed to the glorious sleep that claimed her. In her final moments of consciousness, she heard someone speaking softly, fluidly in Spanish. It sounded like Diego and... a woman... She fell asleep before she had a chance to wonder about the possibility.
A crash woke her. Glass breaking. Then, dead silence.
She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep, but the room was pitch-black. No more full moon lighting everything. It was still night time. Her heart pounded, pumping adrenaline throughout her body, waking her completely and quickly. She sat up. Had the sound come from her bathroom?
Her first thought was that a rat or a raccoon had gotten inside the house. She'd had problems with both creatures, and her constant fear was that one would invade her home. Cautiously she slid from the bed. Just to be on the safe side, she grabbed the first weapon available, a long, slender stick of wooden molding used to prop the window open.
She stalked to the door, then paused to listen. The shower curtain rustled against the tub. Slipping her hand around the door facing, she switched on the light. The small room appeared empty. The shower curtain hanging above the tub moved slightly.
"Aha!" She stepped inside, using her stick to push aside the curtain. She took another quick step to see the culprit, and an acute pain stabbed her foot.
"Ouch! What the—" Annie drew back against the wall and grabbed her foot. In her haste, she'd forgotten about the crash that had awakened her, and what had obviously caused it. Unthinkingly she had stepped bare foot into the broken glass on the hard tile floor. She stared at the slash on her foot and the blood that gushed from her instep and dripped to the floor. "Oh, no!"
As she reached for a towel, Annie caught sight of two brown eyes peering out from behind the curtain. Then, a face. But this wasn't a raccoon or bobcat. This was a girl. A very scared girl.
Feeling absolutely no fear from this intruder, Annie dropped her stick and wrapped the towel around her foot to stop the bleeding. She was more angry than scared at her intruder. "See what you did!"
The girl surprised her by speaking English. "I am sorry."
"Sorry I woke up? Or sorry you dropped this uh..." Annie examined the mess on the floor. "This peroxide bottle?"
"I did not intend to drop it."
"I bet not!" Annie squeezed her foot. "You didn't intend to wake me, so you could take whatever you wanted."
The girl stared silently at Annie, her large brown eyes wide with fright. An elegant blue silk rebozo, a traditional shawl worn by Mexican women, draped her dark hair and shoulders. It was spotted from the rain. Her colorfully embroidered dress was elaborately handmade. She was barefoot.
"What are you doing in here, anyway?"
The girl looked down. Annie noticed that she was shivering.
"What do you want?"
Still crouched in the tub, the girl shrugged slim shoulders. There was an intangible something about her that seemed almost regal, and bespoke fine breeding.
"You came here to steal from me, didn't you?" Annie demanded.
"No." The girl lifted her head proudly.
"Then, what? Why else would you slip in here in the middle of the night?"
"I needed—" the girl pointed to the broken bottle "—that."
"Peroxide? For what?"
"Medicine. Por favor, just give me some medicine, and let me leave. I promise I will not bother you again. I will go away, far away." The girl gestured with one hand.
Annie was struck by the gracefulness of the motion, like the sweep of a dancer's arm. "First you have to clean up this mess you made. Then we'll talk about giving you medicine."
"Sí, gracias." The girl stepped gingerly out of the tub. Soon she had the broken glass scooped into the rubber wastebasket and was soaking up the spilled peroxide with a towel.
Annie found some alcohol under the sink and a box of bandages. She sat on the toilet seat and examined the inch-long cut on her foot. For such a little slit, she observed, it certainly bled a lot. Maybe she could avoid having stitches by pulling the bandage tight. Gritting her teeth, Annie splashed the cut with antiseptic. She moaned as the stinging ran through her foot.
Calmly the girl took over from Annie, wiping around the wound with gentle hands, making sure there were no glass shards, then closing it tightly with a bandage. When she was finished, she looked to Annie for approval.
Annie. "Thank you. That's a pretty good job. I couldn't have done better, myself."
The girl clutched the box of bandages and the alcohol bottle to her breast. "Can I have these, por favor!"
"Why do you need them? Are you injured?"
"No, not for me. For..." The girl hesitated, her eyes cast downward. "For someone else. She needs help."
"Is someone injured? Do they need help?" In that moment, the word help reverberated through her. She's heard that word, maybe aloud, at the mission two evenings ago.
"No, no! This is enough."
"You don't want me to know about your business, do you?"
"It is better that way, seňorita." The girl's tone was apologetic but firm. "This is all I need. Thank you. I will go now. Far away." The girl clutched the items and started backing out of the bathroom as if she were afraid Annie would change her mind.
Annie made no attempt to stop her, even though she wanted to. "Thank you for bandaging my foot."
"I am sorry for cutting you." The girl's English was halting but understandable. "Please, forgive me." She turned and fled the room.
Annie hobbled after her.
In the hallway, she ran into Diego, who prevented her from following the girl. "Diego! Get out of my way! Stop that girl!"
"She is gone, seňorita."
Annie wrested herself from his arms and switched on the kitchen light. "Diego, what are you doing here?" He slept in a little room that adjoined the shed out back. Only occasionally, did he sleep in the laundry room as he had last night during the freeze.
"I heard noises."
She folded her arms. "What's going on here, Diego? I heard you talking to someone earlier. Was it her?"
His shoulders slumped. He was obviously unwilling to lie to Annie. "Sí," he said finally. "I tried to keep her from entering the house. But she insisted."
"She claimed she needed medicine, Diego."
" Sí . Es verdad. The truth."
"Is someone out there hurt?"
"I don't know."
"You do know!"
He shuffled around a little. "It is the old woman. Something is wrong with her leg. She needs medicine."
"An old woman is with this girl? Is she sick?"
"I... I think so."
"Where are they?"
"I don't know."
"You do."
"I cannot tell. Please don't make me. They will leave, now that they've b
een discovered."
"How many are there?" Annie envisioned a roomful of illegals, all needing help.
"Just the two."
"Only two women? Alone?"
" Sí ."
"That's strange." Annie pondered the situation a moment. In her experience, women didn't ordinarily travel alone like that. But, this wasn't an ordinary situation, obviously.
"Where are they staying?"
He shook his head and looked down at his feet.
"Where, Diego?" she demanded. "Where are those women hiding? The mission ruins?"
His affirmative nod was almost imperceptible.
"Do you think this medicine is enough? It's only alcohol. Not very strong."
" Sí. It will be enough."
"Maybe she needs a doctor—"
"No! No, I do not think so."
Annie looked steadily at him. "They're illegal migrants, aren't they, Diego?"
He studied his shoes, finally mumbling, " No se , seňorita."
"We can't hire illegals to work here anymore. It's against the law, and things are getting tighter."
"I know. They will leave."
"They have to be gone today, Diego. Off my property. See to it." She motioned toward the door. "Now, you go on back to bed. I'm going to try to get some sleep in what's left of this miserable night."
Annie locked the back door, switched off the kitchen light and hobbled back to her bedroom. As she settled into the warm, dry cocoon of her bed, she wondered where the girl and the old woman were bedding down. And if they were dry on such a rainy night. Maybe Diego had given them some kind of shelter and that was why he was so jumpy.
She tried to put the night's disruption out of her mind. It was illegal to hire migrants without green cards. Annie's policy had always been to ignore their credentials when they came looking for work. She needed them and they needed jobs. But now, it was too risky. Besides, the sheriff owned the next ranch. It wouldn't take him, or Brett, long to find out if she was hiring illegals.
Well, she just wouldn't do it, that's all.
Slowly the answers for the unaccountable events of the past few days began to emerge. The noises, the missing apple bread and posole. The misplaced smudge pot at the mission. Even the strange feeling of being watched— suddenly it was all clear to her. They weren't los espiritus at the mission. They were illegal migrants, hiding and watching her. Annie slept restlessly with that knowledge for the remainder of the night.
The next morning about ten o'clock she heard a car and looked out to see Brett parking his sleek black Mercedes next to her decrepit 4-Runner. Roman was right. That car was extremely noticeable.
However grand the car seemed, though, it was no more impressive than the man who climbed out and made his way through the mud to her house.
She pushed open the door with an eagerness she couldn't help. "Come on in, Brett. Want some coffee?"
He scraped his shiny black boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside. "Sure." The warm fragrance of apples greeted him and brought a smile. "Coffee sounds great. I'm doing a little surveillance for my dad today, Annie. He's been notified of a dozen or so illegal migrants in the area. From Nicaragua. They were supposed to be met by sanctuary workers and trucked northward. He wants everyone, especially in outlying areas like this, to keep an eye out for them."
Annie felt a tightening in her throat. "Thanks for the warning." She hobbled around the kitchen, busying herself with warming two slices of apple bread.
He looked at her a moment. "What happened to your foot?"
"I, uh, oh, just... cut it on some glass. That's one of the problems with these tile floors. Every darn thing that drops on them breaks instantly. It's nothing but an inconvenience." She moved clumsily to the table with a plate of apple bread.
She wasn't sure why she didn't simply tell him about the intruder last night. The women were gone by now. She owed them nothing, especially not loyalty. They would only be trouble for her, and she would not protect them. Besides, who knew if these two were who Brett was looking for.
But telling Brett about them would only upset him. He might even do something rash, like call in his father, the sheriff. She certainly didn't want a bunch of uniformed officers stomping around the mission. Besides they would be long gone by now. Out of sight, out of mind.
"Thanks for helping me during the freeze, Brett." She poured mugs of coffee for them and took a seat opposite him. "I really appreciate all your time and work you gave me."
"Have you assessed your damage?"
"Thanks to you and everyone who helped, it's in the hundreds of dollars, not thousands."
"Then you won't lose your entire crop?"
"No, thank goodness."
"If the farm went under, would you have to return to Phoenix?"
She shrugged. "I'd probably have to if I wanted to get a job."
He grinned devilishly. "Then I defeated my own purpose. My intent to get you away was foiled by my efforts to save your apple crop here."
She stiffened with indignation. "Can't you understand, Brett? This is where I want to be." She tapped the tabletop for emphasis. "Where I want to stay."
"Too bad. We could have had such fun traveling."
"I have work to do." She shook her head. "No time to play."
"Then the only way I'll get to see you is to work for you?"
"For me?" She grinned. "Looks that way."
"What's next?"
"I need to get the irrigation system going. We've had a few problems with the sprinklers and pipes in one area. Then I'll put spreaders on the Grannies."
"Those little sticks that you put on the branches to reshape them?"
"Right. They help spread the branches out so the sunlight can get to them better."
"Will you show me how I can help?"
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "If you're going to be here long enough."
"I'll be here," he admitted shortly.
Annie smiled, feeling a sense of elation at the news. Without thinking, she squeezed his hand. "I hope you stay a while, Brett."
"I'd rather be your good friend than just a good neighbor, Annie." And he'd rather they were good lovers than anything else, but he knew he couldn't say that to her now. Not now.
"You are a good friend," she said warmly, meaning it sincerely.
They chatted about inconsequential things while they finished the apple bread and coffee. Brett found himself lingering, reluctant to leave the relaxed setting and the company of this woman. But he had an obligation to his dad, and Annie had work to do. He shoved his chair back. "I'd better be going. Be sure to watch for any strangers. Call the sheriff's office right away if you have any problems. Or call me at the ranch. I'm just a few minutes away." He pulled out a card, black with light writing, and left it on her table. "My cell number."
"Right." After the strained conversation with Diego last night, the idea of sending him for Brett's help in the matter seemed ludicrous.
So maybe he'd be here a little while. Okay. She waved as he disappeared into his Mercedes. A snazzy car for a noble man with shiny boots and a dazzling smile.
As soon as Brett left, Diego hurried breathlessly into the kitchen and confronted Annie. "Please, you must come. The old woman is very sick. She needs... help. You have to do something, Annie!"
"Diego, you must have heard Brett, since you were waiting out there on the porch. They're looking for illegal migrants now." She folded her arms and gave him a scolding glare. "Diego, tell me the truth. These women aren't from Mexico, are they? They're from Nicaragua."
He gazed at her bleakly. There was no avoiding the truth now. He nodded.
She ran her hand beneath her hair and massaged her neck for a long moment. "Oh, great! You know that Brett is FBI. That's federal police, Diego! These people are international refugees, hiding on my property! Well, they just have to go, that's all there is to it. They have to go! Or I'll – " She stopped short of saying she'd turn them over to the sheriff.
&n
bsp; "I hope not, Annie." He held his hat anxiously with both hands. "Would you come now to see the old woman?"
She whirled around and glared at him. "Haven't you heard anything I've said? This is against the law! I can't—"
He was steadily persistent. "Por favor, she is very sick. Your Aunt Annalee wouldn't have refused to help."
"Well, I'm not my aunt!" Annie looked away, near tears at the mention of her aunt. She knew her aunt did risky things, like harboring illegals. Shaking her head in frustration, Annie relented. "All right, Diego. I'll see what I can do."
"Gracias."
Even as she climbed into the old truck beside Diego, Annie figured this was one of the craziest, most dangerous, most stupid things she had done since she had exchanged her nice, secure job in Phoenix for the risky apple farm in the country. And yet, she found that she could not refuse either the risk or those who needed help.
CHAPTER FOUR
Annie felt a little foolish when Diego drove to the mission ruins and stopped near the misplaced smudge pot.
Here she had imagined her aunt's presence, when it was actually the presence of someone real she'd sensed. Wouldn't Brett Meyer have a good laugh over this, if he ever found out? But he wouldn't.
She didn't care what he thought. She would still think of Aunt Annalee's spirit dwelling out here. Anyway, Brett would never need to know about these illegal aliens on her property. They would be gone soon, and so would he.
Diego led the way around the crumbling facade to an area of the building where the roof was still intact. Annie ducked her head as she followed him through the low doorway built for people much shorter than she. The room was dark.
Under The Desert Moon (Desert Sky Series Book 2) Page 4
