Free Wild Borders by Cheyenne McCray Page B

worried for her granddaughter.”
    She sighed and shook her head. “That’s why Kev Grand bought himself a shotgun. Shoots up in the air, just to scare them. That, I don’t agree with.”
    “By MacLeod are you referring to Trace?” Lani asked.
    “One and the same gal who arranged for you to stay here.” Sadie nodded. “Although she’s Trace Lawless now. Married a fine man, a DEA agent with a rough edge that more than earns that Lawless name. And Dee, she married Jake Reynolds who’s with Customs, but she goes by Dee MacLeod Reynolds.”
    Lani smiled. “Trace is a terrific friend, and I’m so thrilled for her and her sister.”
    “Trace off and moved to Texas with Jess, but she gets back every now and again,” Sadie said.
    “Yeah, that’s what she told me in her last e-mail.” Lani twirled her pencil. “She hopes to make it here for a visit before I leave.”
    Sadie clipped a loose thread and started to rethread her needle. “Do you have any more questions?”
    “A few.” Lani glanced at her notes again. “Do you come in contact with these people—the UDAs—often?”
    “The illegals we get, most of them just want water,” Sadie said. “Not too long ago, we discovered a hole cut into our fence beside a water trough. Rather than reaching over the fence to get water, they cut right through the wire.
    “Sweetwater Ranch has sustained the most damage that I know of.” Sadie adjusted the quilting hoop in her lap. “Bull—that’s John Stevens, who owns Sweetwater—lost thousands of dollars in cattle when coyotes tore down his fence to run illegals through.”
    Lani frowned and stopped taking notes. “ Coyotes ?”
    “The smugglers, also called los polleros , who are paid to sneak illegal immigrants into the U.S.”
    Lani tapped her pencil on her notepad, her thoughts whirling. “What do you do when illegals stop by?”
    Sadie glanced over the rims of her glasses. “We call the Border Patrol and give them water.”
    Lani looked at the dog at her feet and smiled at the large sad-eyed Rottweiler. “I’m sure Roxie is a good watchdog.”
    “Nothing like a Rottweiler to keep folks at a distance.” Sadie chuckled. “‘Course she’d as likely slobber all over your shoes than bite you, but we’ll keep that to ourselves.”
    Lani and Sadie talked for about an hour longer. Sadie explained how deep passions ran among people when it came to the subject of illegal immigrants, no matter which side of the issue the person might be on.
    “When does Rick get home?” Lani asked when they finished the interview. He’d been gone since at least six a.m., and it was closing in on a full twelve hours from the time he’d left the house until this moment.
    “Anytime now.” Sadie glanced out the front window. “Looks like he’s here.”
    A low thrill invaded Lani’s belly, and when Rick walked through the door, her senses ran sky high. His presence filled the room, and the tired smile he gave her made her knees quiver.
    “Mom. Lani.” Rick hung his Stetson on the hat rack, then kicked off his boots and left them beside the front door. He wore a faded blue shirt over a black T-shirt, and snug jeans.
    “Shower?” Sadie asked as he strode by.
    “Uh-huh.” Rick walked past, straight for the laundry room.
    “He usually won’t say two words after work until he’s had his shower.” Sadie began folding her quilt and packing it away. “At least on days when he’s detained illegals.”
    “Why is that?” Lani asked.
    Rick stepped out of the laundry room, his shirt off, and he was removing a black vest. Her skin chilled as she realized it was a bulletproof vest—it had never occurred to her that Rick would ever be in that kind of danger.
    “I come in contact with hundreds of people a day from all over the third world.” He walked to an oak cabinet and opened one of the doors with a key. “Due to the conditions of their trip, who knows what viruses or diseases they could be carrying. I’ve seen HIV,