“Sarge?” Lily asked, feeling her tension partially melt. Sargent Gill would not hand over her credentials if they involved any real harm to her.
Gabriel bent his head down to unfold the map. “I man a research outpost for the base at Groom Lake. I’m located right about here.” His finger stabbed down on a wild expanse of land, known variously as Cedar Mesa and the Grand Gulch Primitive Area.
“How many people at your post?” Lily asked.
“Myself and some livestock,” he replied, smiling up at her. It was an entrancing smile. “It’s more than a bit lonely.” Then he resumed a brisk tone.
“My facility has a lot of complicated equipment: weather gauges, radio transmission, satellite communications. But I have need of a good machinist.”
That’s why he had come to her, she realized. Still wary, she was growing more and more intrigued. And evidently the Army didn’t rate her PTSD as a barrier to this assignment. Could it be they thought some solitary duty would be helpful? Although it wouldn’t be completely solitary, would it, not if she worked with this enigmatic man? She’d been a damned fine machinist, a Specialist Allied Trades, in her unit. Until the IED had exploded on the road outside Ramadi, killing her two closest comrades. Master Sargent Gill had carried her screaming and kicking out of the jeep’s wreckage.
She came out of her reverie to find the man patiently waiting for her attention.
“That’s rough country. Plenty of survivalist hikers have come to grief out there. How do you get your supplies?”
“Helicopter comes every month on schedule. Ships in supplies and takes out data feeds on paper that don’t transmit. If I want, I take a horse and mule and get supplies. I come here or travel down to Goulding’s. They have that supermarket, you know.”
She nodded, her mind busy. If this was all on the level, she’d been offered an opportunity. If not, well, she’d fought her way out of tighter spots. She’d hiked parts of Cedar Mesa since she was a kid. This guy’s base had to be pretty far inland, though. Lily felt a thrill of something indefinable when she looked at this Gabriel. He was sinfully beautiful in face, high cheekbones, planed forehead, and pointed chin, with skin golden from sun exposure. He had tiny crinkles around his eyes, another indication of carelessness with sunglasses.
Suddenly, she was moved by a new wave of impatience. Hiding from the world in little Mexican Hat. She needed to be doing something more than pushing a broom or making mediocre coffee.
“I have to make some calls,” she said. My father and brother are away.”
At that moment the bells jingled on the café door and a tourist couple with two small kids walked in hesitantly. The father said, “Could we get some breakfast here? We gotta long ride down to Flagstaff.”
Gabriel jumped up from the table. “I’ll handle this,” he told Lily, and walked over to the counter to pick up menus and her order pad and pen.
She went to the tiny office in the back and dialed the cell numbers for first her father, and then when there was no response, her brother. His phone rang and rang without switching to voice mail. Acting on a hunch, she called her Aunt Rosita in Las Cruces. She answered on the third ring.
“Oh, Lily darling! I was going to call you. I heard from Radames late last night. He’s found some woman in one of those Gulf coastal towns. His cell isn’t working… No, he said he wasn’t coming back any time soon… Yes, Sam’s showing up there today or tomorrow… Yes, I know you’re holding the fort…”
Lily got off the phone after a few more minutes of effusive chatter from her aunt. She felt both ruffled and amused. The men of her family had always been this way. When her mother had been alive, she’d handled them masterfully. But Lily wasn’t Nesbah Tighe Ramirez. It was time to let go of reins she’d never been able to successfully deploy. Her next call was a local one.
When she returned to the café, Gabriel was blowing up balloons for the tourist’s two children and offering them gravely to as if they were prime prizes. Their parents seemed to be enjoying drinking their coffee while pondering the breakfast menu. Lily took their orders and returned to the kitchen. Gabriel joined her a few minutes later and they worked side by side in companionable silence.
The bells of the door jingled again when Lily came out to set the orders down on the counter. She served the family, and then walked over to the woman who stood inside the doorway. There was a sparkle in her eyes Lily hadn’t noticed much in the last six months. Maybe this decision was even more beneficial than she’d imagined.
“Oh, Lily! Thanks so much! Child, you have no idea how happy this makes me. I’ve had my fill of sitting around and being a grieving widow. I need work, now, just as my beloved Alex predicted.” She swung into action at once, pulling an apron out from behind the counter.
“I’ve got to pack, Mrs. Blanchard, but it won’t take me but a moment,” Lily said, nodding to Gabriel as he came out of the kitchen. He walked over to Mrs. Blanchard and she could hear them talking as she walked down the stairs to the basement bedroom she’d occupied since returning from the service.
The room was singularly blank without personal mementos and other revealing objects that told something about their owner. She opened the closet door and pulled out her kit bag; the big duffle had plenty of room to hold the small wardrobe that hung on plastic hangers and spilled out of a two-drawer chest. Lily stuffed everything into the bag and then sat down on the bed to pull open the drawer on the table next to the bedstead. She extracted her Magnum revolver, checked that it was loaded and set the safety catch. This item went into a small interior pocket. Next, a small framed photo of a smiling middle-aged woman wearing ceremonial velvet and a fine squash blossom necklace set with pieces of Chinese turquoise joined the clothes stashed in the duffle. Lily picked up the large bandolier bag she used as a purse, shed her apron, and wound the bag’s straps in cross-body fashion. A glance in the mirror and she was set. Hefting the duffle onto her shoulder she climbed back upstairs and re-emerged into the café. “I’m ready.”
Gabriel was waiting for her solemnly by the door. Lily went to cash register, opened a small cabinet underneath and waved Mrs. Blanchard over to show her all the necessary keys, neatly labeled and hanging from separate pegs. She accepted — or was it endured — the woman’s enthusiastic hug and final endorsement, “Don’t fret, now. I’ll manage everything quite nicely. Your brother won’t recognize this place by the time he gets back — whenever that is!”
Lily knew this to be the simple truth as she left the café, following Gabriel’s firm footsteps. He knew where he was going, crossing the street after
a stream of cars had passed. They made their way in silence up a green lane, marked only by Gabriel’s insistence on taking Lily’s kit bag. After a five minute walk, they reached a crumbly stone shed at the start of a wide trailhead up into Cedar Mesa. A well-groomed horse and pack mule were tethered there. Gabriel stashed the duffle onto the full carrier saddle bags and fastened them with leather things.
“You want to ride with me?” he asked Lily.
She looked the horse and him over carefully and nodded. He got on and leaned forward to pull her onto the horse, placing her in front. “Hold on,” he cautioned unnecessarily.
Lily looked back once as they moved onto the trailhead, saying a surprisingly pleased farewell to the town she’d made her sanctuary, and the responsibilities she’d shouldered without enthusiasm. Mrs. Blanchard would make a roaring success of the café, Lily’s heedless men folk could enjoy their escape as long as they wanted, and she…
Well, she knew she’d never rue this meeting in Mexican Hat. She had no idea what sort of work she’d take on with this veritable stranger, but she knew this opportunity had come when she’d truly needed it. And, after all, riding off into the morning sun rise with a handsome, mysterious man was the stuff of romances, wasn’t it?
* * *
Well, readers, like television programs and serial stories everywhere, it’s time to make a break for the summer. We’re going to reprise and re-run some earlier stories through July and August and return to you later in September with new serial tales from Indian Country. In fact, we’ll be in Indian Country ourselves, visiting Santa Fe, Gallup, Arizona reservations, and the Four Corners region. Until we return, here are some of my favorites, starting again with “The Mad Rabbit of Ramah.” And one pitch from the heart – adopt abandoned animals from shelters when you can. They are God’s creatures and we all need that unconditional love. My three adopted rabbits send their regards! Paula
