Texas fury (27 page)

"I'd say it depends on what those mistakes were, Tess. A lot of families depend on Coleman Oil for their livelihood."

"Seems to me, Billie, that you turned Coleman Oil over to Riley because he was fit to handle it. Are you saying you made a mistake?"

"I'm not saying that at all. I do plan to talk to Riley this evening, though. I, as well as the other members of the family, have a right to know where we stand and just how bad things are."

"I wouldn't worry if I were you, Billie. You have a powerhouse in those two boys. Cole is a whip, and Riley does know

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his business. They are young and inexperienced, but that won't always be true."

Billie's hackles rose. "They aren't boys anymore, Tess. As a matter of fact, they are very experienced, so I have to argue that point. I trust both of them."

Tess folded the paper in her hand. She leaned across the table. "Then why are you here, Billie?"

She'd been expecting the question. Tess Buckalew was nobody's fool. "Why, the charts, of course. Call me when they're ready. If you like, I can pay for them now."

"When I'm finished will be time enough. I'll start tomorrow." Her eyes bored into Billie.

"I appreciate it, Tess. I know you must have other clients, and you are so involved in your other activities. But this could mean more business for you—my friends have other friends. Things like this do tend to mushroom. Well, I really must be going. Lunch was delightful."

"It was my pleasure, Billie. The next time you come to Sunbridge we'll have to make it a point to do it again."

Tess sat in the breakfast nook for a long time after Billie left. She'd give up all four back molars to have half the class that woman had. Envy was a terrible thing.

In her gut she knew she could never come up to Coleman standards. Buckalew Big Wells would never rival Sunbridge. Coots and she were trash, and it showed, unfortunately. But with Lacey marrying into the Coleman family, she might have a chance of turning some things around. If Lacey didn't screw up. And if Coots would act accordingly. Fat chance of that, she thought grimly.

Jonquil Doolittle, Riley and Cole's part-time housekeeper, served an excellent dinner. Thad's eyes widened appreciatively when the huge leg of lamb was served—his favorite food in all the world next to Yankee bean soup. Billie wondered where Jonquil had found the fresh emerald-green peas and pearly white potatoes at this time of year. A side bowl of bright orange carrots with slivered almonds and fresh parsley, one of Cole's favorites, added just enough color to the table to make one's mouth water. Light, fluffy biscuits with golden butter that looked as if it had just been churned made Riley groan in delight. Two pies stood on the sideboard, one banana cream, one strawberry rhubarb.

This wasn't just another dinner at Sunbridge, and clearly,

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everyone at the table knew it. There would be discussion and questions afterward. Billie would have given anything to wipe away the tense, defensive look on her grandson Riley's face. Thad, as always, came to the rescue and regaled them with tales of goings-on in Washington.

When Jonquil carried the last of the dinner dishes to the kitchen, Billie nodded to Thad. It was his cue to go for a walk.

Riley crunched his neck into his shoulders, eyes wary. Cole lit a cigarette, something he rarely did, and never at the dinner table.

Riley's stomach churned as he followed Cole and his grandmother into the parlor. His moment of reckoning. He was glad for Cole's show of support, glad they would sit together while he defended his role as the head of Coleman Oil. He wasn't afraid of his grandmother. What was making his stomach churn was the prospect of seeing disappointment in her eyes. He swallowed hard.

Billie put her arms across Riley's shoulders. How miserable he looked. She glanced at Cole; he didn't look any better. She felt like an ogre. What must they be thinking, these handsome, intelligent grandsons of hers? Probably that she was here to fire them, to chastise them, to place blame .. . She had to wipe the stricken looks from their faces. She had to show her support. They were family, and family didn't place blame.

"For heavens sake, will you two wipe the doom and gloom off your faces? All I want is to understand what happened. Now, who's going to tell me?" she asked lightly.

Riley squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "I'm the one who's responsible, so I'll do the explaining," he said in a choked voice.

"Grandmother, don't listen to him. To hear him tell it, he's the one who's responsible for OPEC dropping the price of oil to eight dollars a barrel. All he does is torture himself," Cole said vehemently.

"I projected our profits when oil was thirty dollars a barrel. I hedged our profits on the commodities exchange, but I didn't hedge enough. I thought oil would stay at that price. It didn't."

"Grandmother, listen to me," Cole begged. "The other oil companies, some of them bigger than ours, didn't hedge at all. Most of the smaller ones, like Coots's, didn't do it either. At least Riley tried to cover our asses. It is not his fault."

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Riley ignored him. "I leased other wells that I thought would continue to produce at thirty dollars. I laid out ten million dollars for the mineral rights. I paid out another ten million for labor and materials, and I estimated a thirty-million dollar profit. When oil dropped, I got caught with my pants down. I also leased equipment at fifty thousand a day. I signed contracts with riggers for a year. They earn thirty bucks an hour. I hired five geologists at a thousand dollars an hour. Everyone was under contract. I had to pay off, I'm still paying off. I have to honor those contracts. I spent and spent; I never dreamed the price of oil would drop. We bought real estate, office buildings, other things with my estimated profit.

"My EOR is still in the experimental stage, but it's working for us. That's a high-tech method meaning enhanced oil recovery." Riley's voice was tormented and shaky.

"We're doing all we can do, Grandmother," Cole said forcefully. "You might as well know that Coleman Aviation isn't faring any better. Most of the orders for planes, at least a good portion of them, were from the oilmen. They've canceled, and we're left sucking our thumbs. We could go under, too."

"I was too cocky, too inexperienced. I should have seen this coming, should have hedged more," Riley said miserably.

"If you say that one more time, I'm going to slug you," Cole thundered. "There was nothing you could do. You'd have had to be a mind reader or an insider at OPEC. Tell him I'm right, Grandmother," Cole pleaded.

"He's right, Riley. Where in the world did you get the idea that I or anyone else in this family would blame you? Answer me, Riley," Billie said gently.

"I failed. I also loaned Coots Buckalew a million and a half dollars. So he wouldn't go under. A man works all his life, and then because the banks won't help, he goes belly-up. I had to help."

"Of course you did. I would have done the same thing. All of us would. We're people, not just a business. I think you're losing sight of that, Riley. People, family. We're in this together."

Cole grinned. "I'm glad one of us here has some brains. I've been saying the same thing to him for months now, but he wouldn't believe me. Thanks, Grandmother."

"I think we should all have some brandy and coffee, and in that order," Billie said. "Then I want to hear about the oil

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leases in South America. Riley, you didn't know your greatgrandfather Seth, but I did. I want you to believe me when I tell you he would not be disappointed in you." Billie begged forgiveness for the lie. If Seth were alive, he'd rip his great-grandson's heart right out of his chest and stomp on it.

Riley grimaced. "I find that hard to believe, but because you're the one doing the telling, I do believe. I'll get the brandy."

Cole grinned wryly when he stared at his grandmother. "So it was a little white lie; we all have to tell them once in a while," she whispered. Cole bent over to tie his shoelace to hide his grin.

An hour later Billie walked up the wide, curving staircase with a grandson on each side of her. She kissed them soundly at her door. "We're together on this, and don't forget it for one minute. Now, good night, and sleep well."

Back downstairs in the parlor, a beer in hand, Cole stared at his cousin. "You feel any better?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I'd hate like hell to have you working against me. Thanks for the support."

"All I did was tell the truth. Grandma Billie wasn't here to do a hatchet job. She's behind us all the way; so is the rest of the family. Now, what say we tie one on and forget about business for one night."

"Hear, hear," Riley said, holding his Heineken aloft. The smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes, Cole noted. But it was a start.

"I'm going to miss you, Riley," Lacey said softly.

Riley stared across at the girl he was supposed to marry. She was beautiful—in a hard, shiny kind of way. Ivy called her a plastic mannequin. His stomach was churning. His ulcer was worse than ever. Nothing seemed to help. He'd made up his mind to talk to Lacey this evening before he left for Rio. It was going to be tricky telling her he wanted to postpone their engagement. He hoped she wouldn't cry.

"I asked you to go with me, and you said you had a job and couldn't go," he began. "Why didn't you tell me you took a leave of absence? I had to hear it from Ivy in her last letter."

"Ivy sticks her nose where it doesn't belong. I was planning on telling you, but you always seem so preoccupied. And it wasn't something I wanted to discuss over the phone. Does it matter?"

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"Not to me, but it should matter to you. I don't think Ivy was sticking her nose into things that don't concern her. The way she mentioned it sounded as if she thought I knew. As a matter of fact, she said only the nicest, kindest things about you. Anyway, I thought you loved your job." He knew his voice sounded accusing, but he couldn't help it.

"I do ... I did. It's just that there's so much to do with the engagement party and all. ... " She let her voice trail off as the waiter arrived with two delectable-looking shrimp cocktails.

Riley leaned across the table. The candlelight did strange things to his features, making his eyes glow hot and his lips narrow into a thin, tight line. He looked so menacing Lacey could feel her heart start to pound. She should have known something was coming. This invitation to dinner, even if it was his last night in town, was alarming in itself. Riley never socialized in the middle of the week. It was one of the many things about him that irritated her.

"I think we should postpone the engagement party. The way things look, I might have to spend quite a long time in South America. If things don't go well, I'll come back sooner, but then there'll be other problems. Either way, it isn't fair to you."

Lacey reached for his hand. Tears gathered in her eyes. Practiced tears. "Why don't you let me be the judge of what's fair to me? How's this going to look to both our families? Everyone thought, myself included, that you'd give me an engagement ring for Christmas. Are you trying to tell me you think you are making a mistake? Have you changed your mind?"

He felt terrible at the sight of her tears. He liked Lacey. Damn, why did he get himself into this mess? Had he changed his mind? Of course he had, but then, he'd never made the conscious decision to become engaged in the first place. Lacey had done that, and he'd gone along with it. He was to blame. Now he was going to hurt her, and his stomach would take on additional stress. "No matter how I say this, I'm going to come across as a real heel. I'm very fond of you, Lacey, but I don't think I'm in love with you and I don't think you're in love with me."

"You think I still care for Cole, don't you? Is Cole behind all of this?" Lacey demanded.

"Cole has nothing to do with it," Riley said miserably.

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"My father, then. What's he said to you? It's got something to do with my father—I knew it," she hissed.

Riley didn't deny it. "We both need some breathing room. If we're meant for one another, time will help us. I don't want you to feel tied down while I'm gone."

Dumped, cast aside like an old shoe. Again. Little fingers of panic curled in her stomach. Her mother had told everyone who would listen about the impending engagement. Cole. .. Cole would have a laughing fit. She wondered how much the Coleman family had to do with Riley's decision. From the age of sixteen she'd never been without a beau. Always there was a man to be counted on. What was wrong with her now?

"I think, Riley Coleman, that you've decided I'm not good enough for you. The Colemans have such high standards, and the Buckalews don't quite cut it. That's it, isn't it?"

It was on the tip of Riley's tongue to tell her Ivy could cut it, but he didn't. "No, that's not it at all. I have a lot on my mind, Lacey. You know what the oil business is like these days. You also know my grandfather is ill. There's every possibility that I'll return to Japan sometime in the near future. I have to think of all these things and what's best for everyone concerned. Right now I'm not ready to make any kind of commitment. I'd like you to tell me you understand."

She couldn't let this happen. She'd grovel if she had to. "I do understand. Look, I'll go job-hunting tomorrow. I'll tell my mother to put the engagement party on hold. I love you, Riley," she lied with a straight face, "and I absolutely refuse to accept what you're saying. When you come back from South America, we'll pick up where we left off. Please, Riley," she pleaded prettily. He could be swayed so easily, especially where women were concerned.

Riley's heart thudded. This wasn't working out the way he'd planned. His stomach on fire, he gulped at Lacey's Brandy Alexander and felt a momentary relief. Cream of any kind always helped.

He had no wish to hurt her now or in the future. Lacey had gone through hell once before; he couldn't be party to causing her more misery. He knew he was being a first-class fool when he nodded his head in agreement. He missed the triumphant, selfish look on Lacey's face, hidden by the waiter who'd come to carry away the half-eaten appetizers.