Under The Desert Moon (Desert Sky Series Book 2)

by Mary Tate Engels

  Being with Annie was his life support. She made him glad to be alive. He even had taken the job his father offered because of her. They were reasons for being alive. Everything was moving along nicely. That was the trouble. It was too nice and tidy. Maybe that was what pushed his emotions to the surface today with her.

  "Guilty?" he repeated with a growl. "Guilty for living? Hell, yes! Maybe now, today, more than a little guilty."

  "Why is today so bad, Brett? Memories?"

  "Oh, Annie, today isn't bad. It's good. Too good. These days... this time... with you has been great. I know it sounds crazy, but the better things are going, the worse it gets in here." He placed a fist in the center of his chest. "I thought it would fade in time. But it still hurts. I thought time would heal this damned aching I feel. But nothing's changed."

  Annie hurt for him.

  She came to him, touched his cheek, stroking it gently until he turned toward her. Gazing into his sad, dark eyes, she murmured, "I wish I could kiss away the pain." She leaned forward and kissed both of his cheeks. "But I know I can't do that." She kissed his lips softly.

  "Annie..."

  "I can only kiss you, Brett, and tell you that I'm sorry about your partner and all the pain you've been through. And I'm sorry about your job with the FBI, because obviously you loved it. But, I'll admit, I'm very glad you're here with me." Her lips passed over his, lightly stroking, sipping, kissing.

  It was the first time she had made an aggressive move toward him. But that didn't matter now. Only feelings did. And her open-hearted response to his outpouring. Her lips sought his, pressing solidly, teasing them apart with the tip of her tongue. With a genuineness she couldn't express in words, her passionate actions told him what he needed to hear, needed to feel. She cared.

  When Annie finally lifted her head to take a deep breath, they were lying on the ground. Her breasts were crushed against his chest. His arms had encircled her back. They both seemed to be a little startled to find themselves sprawled together under the apple blossoms.

  "Brett—" She scrambled to a sitting position. "I don't know what came over me."

  "I think that's my line." He hopped to his feet and pulled her up against him. "I'd better get back to work before the boss catches me lying down on the job."

  She grinned. "Yeah. Me, too."

  Brett kissed her nose, then headed for the tractor, feeling better than he'd believed possible a few minutes ago.

  Yes, Annie had something special. And it seemed to be just what he needed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "What was that, Diego? Carmen's sick? You mean Isabel?”

  "The young woman is sick." Diego stood in the dark doorway, hat in hand, nodding.

  "Great. Oh just frickin' great." Annie groaned and turned back into the kitchen. "Come on in and have some coffee. Tell me about it. Does she need to see the doctor, too?"

  "I don't think so. She just cannot come with us now."

  Annie was more than a little agitated by Diego's announcement. This morning they were supposed to be taking Isabel to Dr. Theresa for more blood tests. "What's wrong with Carmen?"

  Head down, Diego walked over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. "She just says she is not feeling well today. But please, could you take Isabel for her tests?"

  "Sure. Yes. Of course." Annie drank the last of her coffee and set the cup into the sink. Pink fingers of daylight were beginning to stretch across the gray morning sky. "I can't believe they both came into this country sick."

  "Things were difficult in their troubled country," Diego said soberly. "They came here looking for a better life."

  "Yeah, that's what they all say." Annie gazed at Diego for a moment. Of course, he must have talked with them in their native language about their journey and the reasons for leaving their homeland. She hoped they had a plan for continuing their journey past Silver Creek, Arizona. "Well, we'll do our best with Isabel and hope Carmen feels well enough to travel soon. I want them gone before—" she paused and sighed "—before someone like Brett Meyer catches them here."

  "Sí, seňorita."

  "Speaking of Brett, he's supposed to come back and work today. Did he finish with the tractor and disk?"

  "Oh,sí. Turned over every spare inch of soil. And he did a pretty good job, too."

  "You seem surprised, Diego."

  A smile creased his dark face. "I keep thinking of him as that pesky little kid next door who used to steal apples from your uncle and throw them at his dad's cattle. No wonder poor J.M. never made it on that ranch. His cattle were always spooked. They were probably tough as old leather."

  "Maybe that's why Brett's working so hard for us now. He wants to make up for his little sins of the past."

  "I think he has more in mind these days than making up for a few stolen apples." The old man grinned knowingly at her.

  "For someone so busy, you certainly are observant of things that are none of your business, Diego." She picked up the towel and took a few swipes at the counter around the sink. "Whatever Brett's reasons are, we'll accept his help as long as he's available. Which probably won't be long." In spite of what Brett had said, she still couldn't believe he was here to stay.

  "I am not complaining. We can use a good, strong back around here. And that he is."

  "Frankly, I wasn't sure if Brett would be much help, considering his injury." She wouldn't soon forget the bold image of Brett sitting on the tractor the other day. The way his bare shoulders and muscular chest gleamed with sweat in the midday sun.... "But it doesn't seem to affect his work."

  "He is strong," Diego concluded.

  Annie nodded curtly, thinking it uncomfortable to be discussing Brett Meyer with her hired hand. She hadn't forgotten the effects of Brett's touch and that kiss she had willingly given him—the way it had turned so magical.... "Uh, Diego, did you finish weeding all the orchards?"

  "Yes. Everything is under control. We're ready to start thinning the blossoms."

  "What about the leaky irrigation pipe?"

  "That is not under control," he admitted with a rueful shake of his head. "I think it is leaking in several places now. Maybe some animal exposed the pipe. And the winter weather did the rest."

  "Well, I don't want to start thinning blossoms until we fix the pipes. We have to get our watering system in good working order or nothing will grow." She sighed heavily. "I'm afraid that whole stretch of pipe west of the Jonathan orchard will have to be replaced. I considered letting Foster Mayhill work on it, since he installed the system, but of course, the warranty is up, and I'd have to pay him plumber's wages. I wonder if you and I could fix it, with Brett's help."

  "Maybe. First we have to dig up the pipe."

  She smiled grimly. "Okay, if you think we can do it, go ahead and start digging this morning. I'll get the pipe from the hardware store while I'm waiting for Isabel to have her tests. Dr. Theresa said the glucose tolerance test takes about three hours, so we'll be gone most of the morning."

  "As soon as Brett gets here, we'll dig up the old pipe."

  "Good deal." She grabbed her jacket from the rack by the door and started out, sliding her arms into the sleeves as she went. "Tell Isabel we'd better be going, Diego."

  In a few minutes, he was helping Isabel into the truck, chatting with her in Spanish. Annie started the motor and looked at the older woman. "Buena’s Dias, Isabel. Como estas?"

  "Bien, gracias."

  "Bien," Annie responded, wishing she could say more. The only other Spanish phrases that readily came to mind were Donde esta el bano?, "Where is the bathroom?" and Dos cervezas, por favor, "Two beers, please." Neither of those would do now, so Annie smiled politely and shifted into gear. Isabel looked much healthier than she had a week ago. She was moving under her own power, no longer running a fever, and her leg was starting to heal. Annie figured the woman had to feel better.

  The two bounced along in silence as they traveled the dirt road. Annie glanced at Isabel occasionally with a cheerful smi
le. It occurred to her that Isabel might be frightened and probably had no idea what was happening today. So she tried to think of a few more Spanish words that might reassure her. "Doctor Theresa es bien, uh, medico," she began hesitantly, then mumbled aloud,

  "I'm assuming you know you're going back to the doctor."

  "Sí," Isabel offered tentatively.

  "Sí? Are you understanding me?" Annie was delighted with a response from the silent woman. "How can I let you know that the doctor will make you feel better?" she muttered. "Uh, mejor pierna." She laughed at herself. Better leg sounds ridiculous. You can't possibly understand what I mean by that. I wish Carmen were here to interpret for me."

  "Es too early for her. She sick every morning like this."

  Annie slowed the truck and gazed at her passenger in amazement. "You speak English?"

  "Poco. A little."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "You not ask." Isabel smiled impishly. "Anyway, you were giving me alegria, much funny."

  "Much funny? I bet." Annie shook her head and laughed. "All along you've understood. Well, at least you know Dr. Theresa wants to help you feel better. And make your leg well."

  "Yes, better leg." Isabel covered her mouth and giggled.

  Annie stared at the road for a minute before she was fully struck by all that Isabel had said. And what she meant. "Did you say that Carmen had... oh my God..." Annie held her breath. "Morning sickness?"

  Isabel smiled sweetly. "It is from the baby."

  "Baby? Oh, no! This is great! Just frickin' great! You have diabetes and Carmen's pregnant!" She sighed heavily. Annie's notion that her problems with these women were almost solved flew right out the window. The problems were just beginning! "Now, what in heaven's name am I going to do with you?"

  "We will be leaving soon."

  "You're darn straight, you will." Annie gripped the steering wheel and clamped her teeth together. In only a few short minutes she had learned more about these two women than she ever wanted to know. And, although her first thought was to see them on their way, she wondered where they'd be going in their conditions. And who would help them ... if anyone? How would they survive in a strange country with no money or support?

  Hours later, when they returned to the farm, she went with Isabel to Diego's quarters to see how Carmen was feeling.

  Isabel hugged the girl, then exchanged a few comments with her in Spanish. Annie stood silently, not fully understanding the words that tripped off their tongues. Finally Carmen turned to Annie. "Thank you for taking such good care of her."

  "I discovered that Isabel speaks English." Annie gave Carmen a curious glance. "I just assumed she didn't."

  "She is shy. But she understands."

  "So I see. And how are you feeling, Carmen?"

  Carmen sat on the edge of the bed, looking weak and pale. "I am all right."

  "Have you eaten today? I brought some lunch. Would you like a hamburger?"

  "Hamburger? Yes, sure." With shaky hands, Carmen reached out. "Gracias."

  Annie figured the girl hadn't eaten all morning. "It isn't good for your baby if you go so long without eating like this, Carmen. You need something, even if it's crackers." She motioned at herself. "Isabel and I already ate our hamburgers. She was very hungry, since the doctor had instructed her not to eat all morning because of the tests."

  Carmen took a tentative bite. In a few seconds, she smiled. "It is good, this hamburger."

  "I thought you'd like it." Annie felt a certain satisfaction watching Carmen eat, and told herself she was suffering some sort of misplaced mothering syndrome. She even found herself giving practical advice that she knew almost nothing about. "You have to feed yourself well so your baby will grow strong. You both have to eat the right foods now. And you should let Dr. Theresa check on you, just to make sure everything is all right."

  "How is Isabel?" Carmen asked.

  "As Dr. Theresa suspected, Isabel has a disease called diabetes. She has to choose her foods from a list the doctor gave her. No more sugar. At all. No soft drinks. Eat small meals during the day. And she will have to take a pill every day for the rest of her life."

  "And the pill will make her better?"

  "It will keep her well. But she has to eat nutritious foods." Annie sat on the bed near Carmen. "How will you do this? It's expensive and you're going to be traveling again soon."

  Carmen lifted her head proudly. "When my Thomas comes for us, we will have the money for her medicine."

  "Thomas?" Annie realized she was getting insight into a possible plan for the future. "He's coming for you?"

  "Oh, yes. He does not even know about the baby." Carmen touched her stomach gently. "He will be so happy."

  Privately Annie wondered how Thomas was going to take care of his sick mother and his pregnant wife. "When is he going to meet you? And where? Here?"

  "At the mission," Carmen said solemnly. "We were separated on the journey through Mexico. He always said to go to the mission."

  "The mission ruins in the back of my property?" Annie's voice grew along with her alarm. "But how would he know about that?"

  "The old mission is in stories, even songs. Everyone knows of it."

  Annie was astounded. "And everyone uses them? Hiding, like you did?"

  "Some. Not all."

  Annie shivered. How many times had she been out there by herself? How many times had she felt a presence? And she'd foolishly thought it was her aunt's spirit. But why wouldn't Feliz bark at strangers?

  "I can't believe my property has been used as a landmark for illegal migrants."

  "Please, do not tell anyone." Carmen put her hand on Annie's arm. "We will be leaving as soon as my Thomas comes for us."

  Annie's gaze softened. "I won't tell anyone about you. But I can't have people trailing from Mexico through my property. It's... it's against the law. I could be fined. Or worse." She stood. "I hope your husband comes soon, Carmen. Do you know when the baby is due?"

  "Not exactly. He is kicking a lot."

  "Kicking? That means you're probably five months along or more. Damn!" Annie heard the sound of the 4-Runner. Diego and Brett were returning for lunch. "We have company. It's Brett Meyer, my neighbor whose father is the sheriff," she said clearly. "Now, you two stay out of sight."

  "Sí seňorita," they agreed in unison.

  Annie dashed out of the shed, smoothing her clothes and trying to get a grip on herself as she went. Thoughts of seeing Brett made her excited and anxious at the same time. She was getting accustomed to seeing his handsome face on a daily basis and had actually missed him this morning when she had to take Isabel into town.

  When she spotted him, though, she halted abruptly and stared in amazement. Was it actually Brett? The bare-chested man climbing out of the 4-Runner was absolutely filthy. Sweat had mingled with dirt on his body and jeans. There were dried mud freckles all over his bare flesh. His jeans were smeared with both wet and dry mud. His fashionable boots were no longer shiny; in fact, she couldn't tell if they were gray or brown.

  And yet, as she gazed at him, Annie thought he was the most rugged, perhaps the most sexy-looking man she had ever seen.

  He ambled toward her, his shirt tied to his hips and flapping in the breeze. "Hi. I hope you have a hose."

  "Over by the house." Her mouth went dry.

  "That must be where Diego went."

  "You... you've ruined your boots."

  "I hope not." He lifted each one to assess the damage. "I think they'll wash clean."

  "Brett, uh..." Her voice trailed off as she forgot what she had intended to ask him. In that moment, irrigation pipes and refugees and apple blossoms and everything in her complicated world escaped her except the sight of him. All Annie could think of was the way he looked, so noble and bold and copper colored. So naturally masculine.

  Her gaze traveled from the muscled expanse of his shoulders to his smooth chest, past his rib cage to that long, awful scar. The red line curved halfway ar
ound his body. "Oh my God, Brett..."

  "It looks much worse than it is, Annie," Brett said quietly when he saw her reaction.

  Blood drained from her face, and she felt slightly weak-kneed. "I'm sure that's not true, Brett. You spent weeks in the hospital because of that." Her voice grew hoarse. "You almost lost your life because of it."

  He brushed the scar lightly. "It's my badge of honor. It merited a call from the VP. And a pat on the fanny as I was royally ushered out."

  "I can't say that I'm sorry. The FBI's loss is my, or rather, our gain."

  "There's another of those overworked clichés."

  "I mean it, Brett. I'm really glad you decided to come back home. I don't know what I'd have done this spring without all your help."

  "Why, I'm sure you'd have managed, Annie."

  "But not very well." She gestured at his filthy body. "Did you dig down to the old pipe?"

  "We sure did. And did you bring a new one?"

  "Yes. If you're ready, we can start on it after lunch. I bought fast food hamburgers. Hope you don't mind."

  "Did you say we can start?"

  "Of course. It's my pipe, isn't it?"

  "Well, yes. But this is a messy business."

  "Hey, I've been messy before. I'll bet I get messier than you!" she challenged with a laugh.

  "You're on! Now point me in the direction of the hose so I can get a layer or two of this stuff off before it sinks in."

  She walked with him toward the house and pointed out the hose. Then she headed for the porch, intending to change clothes while the men ate. Pausing on the step, she stole a glance at Brett splashing water over himself. Her insides twisted into a knot as she watched, fascinated and envious of every drop that rolled down his gorgeous brown body.