Morning Glory (9 page)

However, the food spread out on the table made him
forget all about Tucker's lack of handiness with a dust
rag and mop. A huge pork roast, surrounded by potatoes,
carrots and onions, rested in the middle of an enormous
meat platter. Steam rose from a bowl of freshly snapped
green beans seasoned with bacon. Another bowl held
lettuce wilted with a hot vinegar and sugar sauce, and a
basket offered hot bread, still piping hot from the oven.

Tucker assigned chairs, keeping Olivia as far from
him as possible.

Cecil was the last one to sit. "Good lord, man, you'd
make any woman a good wife. If you want to cook
every day, I can guarantee you a healthy profit"

"No, thank you. I've got too much to do to cook
every day" Tucker grinned at the compliment. "The
extra plate there is for Tilly, who seems to be running
late. She'll probably be here about dessert time."

Clara picked up the napkin and carefully placed it in
her lap. "You didn't say Tilly was joining us."

"She's plowing this morning, so I told her to stop by
if she had time." Tucker began passing the food around
the table.

"So you're working with Briar?" Olivia asked Cecil.

"I guess you could say that," Cecil said. "Tucker, this
is wonderful. I'm glad I came over to discuss the new
recruits with Briar."

"Thank you," Tucker said.

Olivia stole glances at Cecil while she ate. He really
was handsome and that deep voice sent shivers down
her spine. "And is your job as dangerous as Briar's?"

"Yes, ma'am, I guess it is. I'm the derrickman and
the general manager in this area for Rose Oil. How long
have you known Tucker?" he asked. Good grief, the
woman was out and out flirting with him. Her leg had
actually touched his for a moment. There was no way
he'd come between Tucker and his lady friend-and
besides, Judith, the love of his life, would scalp him.

Olivia turned to him with a sugary-sweet smile. "Oh,
Tucker and I've known each other ever since I moved
into Clara's boarding house in Healdton. I grew up in
Ardmore and got a job last year at the bank here in
town. Tucker comes by sometimes for supper with us. After lunch, do you suppose you might give me a working man's tour of an oil rig? I've never been up close to
one when it was going into the ground. I was always
afraid Clara would evict me if I did."

"I would not!" Clara exclaimed.

"Well, the way you hate Briar, everything and everyone involved with oil, I didn't want to chance it," Olivia
said.

Cecil sputtered. "It might not be appropriate for me
to take you to the rig. Rumors could start and since you
and Tucker are-"

Clara giggled.

Briar chuckled.

Tucker steamed.

Olivia's eyes widened. Even though Tucker
Anderson was the absolute catch of the county, she
couldn't have another prospect thinking she was spoken for already. No, sir, that would scare Tucker off
and, besides, Cecil was so good looking. A girl could
give up a little bit of prestige and money for something
that handsome. "Tucker and I are friends. Clara is the
one who invited me to lunch today. Besides, Clara can
go, too. She and I will be chaperones for each other."

Tucker breathed a sigh of relief.

Clara gasped. "I will not go around a dirty old oil
rig."

Tilly walked into a room that had suddenly gone
silent as a tomb. "Hi, folks. Sorry I'm late. Everyone
must have been talking about me, the way every word just stopped on a dime. I know I'm a mess in my overalls and all, but it doesn't have to strike everyone mute"

"That's not it," Olivia said. "Cecil here has just invited me to go to the oil rig for a tour and Clara won't go
with me."

"I didn't actually invite you," Cecil said.

Tilly took her place and began filling her plate.
"Thank goodness. It's just a typical Anderson family
meal. Arguing and bickering. I did wash my hands and
face so pass me the roast, please, Briar. Don't think I've
met you. I'm Tilly, Tucker and Clara's cousin. Are you
Olivia's new beau?"

It was Cecil's turn to blush. "No, I am not!"

Tilly loaded up her plate like a field hand. "Well, we
got that settled. Now, why won't you go to the rig site,
Clara? Don't you think you're taking this too far? I
went over there this morning and introduced myself to
the fellows. I was plowing right next to their fence.
Seemed the neighborly thing to do. Did tell them that if
I caught a single one of them on my side of the fence,
we'd have a proper funeral for the culprit. Didn't see
you over there."

"I was in a different area. You downright scared my
boys," Cecil tried to regain his composure after that
statement about being Olivia's new beau.

"It should scare them," Clara said. "Tilly can't clean
worth a dime, but she can outshoot anything that walks
upright on two legs."

"Never did like housecleaning. Granny Anderson said I was made for better things so she taught me to
shoot. Momma insisted I learn to cook, though. Said
someday it might come in handy. Hasn't yet, but maybe
someday hasn't got here," Tilly said between bites.

"So would you like a tour of the rig? I'd be glad to
show you around" Briar looked right at Clara.

Silence so thick it threatened suffocation filled the
room. Clara was practically struck mute. If she said no,
there'd be another long-winded debate. If she said yes,
she'd be admitting defeat and she'd never hear the end
of it.

"You plannin' on answering Briar?" Tilly finally
asked. "While you're sitting there trying to figure out a
way to weasel out of it gracefully, pass me the hot rolls
and butter."

"Yes, I would like a tour of the rig," Clara finally
announced in a clear voice. After all, one should really
get to know the enemy. "And thank you for the invitation, Mr. Nelson. I'm sure it will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am absolutely right in my hatred
for anything to do with this oil boom."

From a distance, the oil derrick looked like a windmill without the fan blades. It wasn't the first time Clara
had seen one of the eyesores ruining the landscape of
the whole area. They all looked alike, down to the bare,
muddy area surrounding them. The whole thing was
symbolic of the way they'd changed society. Where
they had been quiet little towns, now there were entire
communities full of hoboes. Ragtown, in spite of its
new founded name of Wirt, was little more than a lawless tent city of people searching for riches in the oil
field. Just a big muddy mess where there used to be
nothing but green pastures.

The closer she got the more she could feel the energy of the thing. Men working. The noise. The smell. A
power like nothing she'd ever seen before. Up close it reminded her of a tower and she had the craziest urge
to kick off her shoes and climb to the top, barefoot and
with her hair flying in the breeze.

Olivia hung on every word, but Clara would be willing to bet dollars to horse apples that she wouldn't
remember a single thing Cecil told her about the operation of the rig. Heaven help the man if Olivia found
out he had money. She'd have a ring in his nose and her
brand on the third finger of his left hand so fast he'd
wonder if he was dreaming.

"So is it the devil reincarnated?" Briar asked Clara.

"The jury is still out," she said.

"Oil is the future. There's no limit to what all this
will mean, Clara. It's not just gasoline for engines and
oil to heat houses. There's no telling what it will open
up for our children and grandchildren," Briar said.

"What we had was a nice quiet life for the next
generation. I can already feel a change in the air. This
oil boom is going to destroy a way of life," she
argued.

"But it will put a new and better way in its place," he
said.

"I disagree. I liked Healdton just the way it was."

"I like Healdton, too. Made an offer on this piece of
land but the owner won't sell to me," Briar told her.

"I'm not surprised. I am surprised that she even sold
you the oil lease on it. If her husband was still alive and
she didn't need the money you wouldn't have even gotten a lease."

"If I don't buy this property, I may look at another
one," Briar said.

"Why would you want to live in Healdton?"

"Looks like a good place to raise children to me," he
said.

Children? Clara's heart skipped a beat. She'd always
wanted a big family. Raised as an only child, she'd
yearned for brothers and sisters. With the Percy ordeal
and looking thirty right in the face, she'd long since
given up on ever meeting that fanciful goal in her life.
She looked up at the tower getting smaller at the top
and imagined little boys climbing up three or four feet
and then throwing themselves into Briar's arms.

That scoundrel would have the whole thing; a future
with children and grandchildren.

Clara would hang onto a dying past with nothing but
a suitcase full of rotting clothing and a purse with a
loaded derringer inside.

"Oh, Clara, isn't this just the most exciting thing?
Just look at all this stuff to get oil out of the earth. Who
would have ever thought it took so many men to get the
job done," Olivia gushed.

Clara tried to sort out a heart full of jumbled feelings. "I've seen enough"

A roughneck shouted at Briar. "Hey, boss, we just hit
a thousand feet. Thought you said this oil was layin' on
the surface"

A rumble made Clara plant her feet more solidly on
the platform and grab Briar's arm. The rippling mus Iles under the shirt sleeve surprised her. He'd looked so
gangly that first day he checked into her boarding
house. But she didn't have time to think about the contrast in the way Briar looked and the way he felt; she
was instantly and literally swept off her feet. Briar
scooped her up into his arms and ran toward his car.

The grumbling earth suddenly spit a flume of black
oil straight up into the sky. Men rushed every which
way to cap it off; some of them laughing at the nasty
crude covering them from head to foot, most of them
forgetting there were women close by and using language that would singe the hair out of the devil's ears.
All of them working together in a brotherhood of
activity.

Briar and Clara were halfway to his car when the
wind picked up the oil and slung it in their direction.
Her dress was ruined and all she could think about was
the excitement of trying to outrun the gusher. Then
Briar slipped in the oily substance and the mud mixed
up together. His feet went out from under him and no
matter how hard he tried to get his balance it was
impossible to stay upright. He landed on his back, staring straight up at a splattering shower of oil coming out
of a cloudless blue sky. She wound up on top of him,
her hands planted firmly on the ground beside his head,
her face barely inches from his. Up that close, his lips,
which she'd originally thought too thin and severe, suddenly looked very desirable.

Briar battled the urge to wrap his arms tightly around her and kiss her right there in front of the whole crew,
Olivia, and God Himself. Even with crude all over her
face and dripping from her hair, she was so danged cute.

He apologized in a raspy voice. "Sorry, I hoped I
could get you out of it."

"So that's what they mean when they say they've hit
a gusher." She tried to slip her foot to one side, but
couldn't get traction on anything in the slippery earth.

He reached for her waist and sat up with her. "Yes,
ma'am, you've just seen a gusher come in."

"This is ridiculous," she sputtered. "Help me up."

Reluctantly, he stood to his feet and offered her a
hand. "Careful. It's greasy"

She hoped the high color creeping up her cheek
bones would be disguised by the mess. "I'm going back
to Tucker's."

"I'm sorry, Clara, but I've got to help get this under
control." Briar hurriedly joined the men, all of them
acting like little boys the first time they went swimming
in the summer. Jumping around. Patting each other on
the back as they worked. Big grins on their filthy faces.
And Briar right in the middle of all it.

Clara headed off toward the stile in the fence but
stopped when she'd only gone a few feet. She watched
in stunned silence, feeling the excitement in the men's
movements, hugging herself against the reaction she'd
experienced when Briar picked her up. Still feeling the
excitement when she'd been thrown on top of him.
She'd actually enjoyed the closeness of his chest next to her face when he sat up with her and the sparks tingling against her fingers when he helped her to her feet.

I will not like Briar I won't. He is just a passing
physical attraction.

She turned her back on the whole messy business
and started up the stile steps. She should be angry at
him but strangely enough she wasn't. He'd tried to save
her from the oily mess; it just hadn't worked. She
reached up and pushed a limp strand of hair away from
her face. Lord Almighty, it would take a dozen washings to get that horrid mess from her hair.