Dare to Dream

by Modean Moon

  "Don't let the size of that tank battery impress you," Nick said as they drove past. "It holds the production from all the wells on this lease. That well," he nodded toward the one they had just passed, "was the first. No Red Fork, or at least none to speak of. It's pumping out a whopping twenty-five barrels a day. Over there"—he pointed toward another pump jack barely visible to the south of them—"is the second. Missed it again. Ten barrels. Up in the northeast corner of the lease."

  Dani looked in that direction but could see nothing.

  Nick grinned at her unspoken question. "I have had my share of dry holes, Dani. That's just one of them."

  The road was now little more than a trail through the sparse grass. "We did a little better on Number Four. It had a showing of Red Fork, but nothing like we expected, and we're not producing from that sand."

  "But everyone is still sure it's here?" she teased.

  "Yep. And since our friend Sam Wilson has temporarily set back my plans to go big game hunting in Beck-ham County, I figured I might as well look for it one more time."

  He stopped the car at a badly eroded ditch. "This is as far as we can drive until after we get the road built." He walked around the car and opened the door for her, helping her out. "Watch where you step," he said, frowning as he looked at her high-heeled sling pumps.

  "Yes, sir." She gave him a smart salute and then reached back into the car for the stake and hammer. "Don't forget these."

  He took the hammer from her. "You keep the stake. I'm going to let you decide where to put it anyway."

  "Me!" The word came out in a yelp. "Nick Sanders, I know you're crazy now. If your geologists can't tell you where to drill, what makes you think I can?"

  He grasped her elbow and led her down into the gulley and back up the other side. The grass on this side was as sparse as that which they had driven through. While the whole countryside was growing green and lush, this pasture had only tufts of green showing. Dani had heard about overgrazing but had never seen the damage it could do. She looked around her in dismay. It was as though the grass had been ripped out of the ground, leaving only hardy weeds and flattened mounds of dried, adobelike cow droppings as evidence that it had ever been able to grow anything.

  "I know," Nick said, as though reading her mind. "But I don't own the surface of the land, Dani. I can't control what happens to any of it, except for a small area around the wells."

  "Come on," he said. "We don't have far to go." He kept a secure grasp on her arm as they made their way down the dusty red ruts of a tractor trail. "You really don't have much of a decision to make," he told her, reminding her of his earlier threat that she would determine the well location. "After reading the logs and studying the production of the neighboring wells, we've narrowed it down to three possibilities."

  "And am I supposed to say, 'eenie, meenie, minie, moe,' or toss a coin?" she asked.

  "Whatever method you want," he said, apparently unaware of the flip manner she questioned him. "You bring me luck, Dani, and that's what I need more than anything else. This is an educated man's game of blind man's bluff at this point."

  Dani pulled loose from his grasp and stood in the roadway. "Nick, you can't be serious."

  He only nodded at her, and the expression on his face told her he was.

  "Listen to me," she said. "There's no way I can make that decision. For all I know about production or geology or engineering, I might as well close my eyes, spin around, and throw this stake."

  He grinned at her, a sparkle lighting his eyes, but he didn't say anything.

  She wouldn't make a decision of this magnitude for him. She couldn't! But maybe the only way to convince him of that was to prove her irresponsibility. She frowned at him and stepped out of the rut into a bare plot of red dirt.

  "All right!" she snapped at him. She'd do it and then he could pick up the stake and put it where he wanted it. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Get out of my way," she told him. She'd play this silly game to the hilt. It was kind of fun, she admitted as she twirled around. Rather like pin-the-tail on the donkey. She twirled until she lost all sense of direction, stopped long enough to regain her balance, drew back her arm, and hurled the stake with all her strength. "There!" she cried as she opened her eyes.

  Nick's shoulders were shaking with barely suppressed laughter, and the green lights in his eyes danced wickedly as he advanced on her.

  "Now do you see how silly it was to expect me to choose your location?"

  He nodded, not speaking, and guided her to the stake. It lay against a clump of weeds, but its pointed end rested squarely in the center of a large dry cow dropping.

  Nick reached for the stake, but instead of picking it up he merely straightened it and began hammering it into the ground, through the center of the cow chip.

  "What are you doing?"

  He could no longer control his laughter. It broke from him, muffling his words. "I'm staking your well."

  "Nick! What about your three possibilities? You can't just poke a hole in the ground because that's where the silly stake landed."

  He kept on hammering, and laughing, and Dani began to realize he was serious.

  "Nick!" She couldn't just stand by and let him spend his time and his money drilling a well there.

  "Actually," he said, straightening himself to his full height and trying to bring his laughter under control, "it's not so far from one of the three possibilities that we'll even have to get a spacing variance. A name change is in order though."

  He dropped the hammer and hugged her to him, going off again in fresh gales of laughter. "I wonder how the very staid and very proper Corporation Commission is going to react to an intent to drill the 'Cow Chip Number One?'"

  "You wouldn't?"

  "Watch," he told her, spinning her around.

  It was hopeless. He was hopeless. He was going to drill the well where it was staked, and he was going to tag it with that ridiculous name, and there was nothing she could do about it. Except enjoy it. Enjoy it!

  She felt her laughter building and let it bubble forth to mingle with his until it overpowered her, leaving her leaning helplessly against him and holding her side.

  They stayed until the bulldozer operator completed the pad for the drilling rig, leveling the ground intuitively, scraping away layers of soil and rock with the ease of long years of practice, until there was a perfectly smooth, perfectly level surface surrounding an obelisk of untouched earth, a red cone surmounted by an immortalized cow chip pierced by a wooden stake.

  How could anyone enjoy life as much as Nick did, Dani wondered as she dressed for work the following Thursday. There was nothing feigned about his enjoyment. It was natural and spontaneous and a complete mystery to her. She had never felt that vitally alive, not even before— A spasm of pain stabbed through her and she closed her eyes against it, willing it to leave. Not even before.

  She caught her hair back in its knot, but while inserting the hairpins, she paused. Except at the office she had worn her hair loose since Nick had asked her to take it down that first evening. He was taking her to lunch today, a special lunch with Mama Giuseppina of the homemade wine and fantastic salad dressing. Why not? she thought defiantly as she raked the pins from the knot and brushed her hair into shining waves. It was becoming progressively harder for her to be both D.J. and Dani. Maybe it was time to begin introducing Dani to the people she worked with.

  Dani noticed a couple of inquiring glances, but Marcie was the first to say anything. "If I were you, D.J.," she said thoughtfully, "I'd throw away my hairpins."

  The morning passed rapidly—so rapidly that when Marcie stuck her head around the corner to ask if she wanted her to bring her a sandwich, Dani looked up from the abstract she was reading in surprise and shot a startled glance at her watch. Twelve already?

  "No," she told Marcie distractedly. "But thanks, anyway. Nick's taking me to lunch today."

  "Ah-hah!" Marcie flashed a knowing grin, and Dani felt the blood rising in
her cheeks, but by the time she thought of a rejoinder, Marcie was gone and only the echo of her soft laugh remained in the room.

  Dani reached for her purse. She considered a trip to the ladies' lounge to repair her makeup but decided against it. Nick ought to be here any minute, and she didn't want to leave him waiting in the empty hall. Using the small mirror in her purse, she touched up her makeup.

  She glanced at her watch again. He was a little late, but he hadn't set a definite time. Maybe she'd be able to finish reading the few pages remaining in the abstract she had started.

  She finished reading those pages and again glanced at her watch. Years of habit controlled her. She reached for the microphone of her dictation unit and began transforming the copious notes that covered several pages of a legal pad into sentences and paragraphs. Where was he?

  When Marcie ducked into the office to tell her she was back from lunch, Dani looked up from her notes.

  "Still here?" Marcie questioned.

  "Uh—yes." Dani stumbled over her words. "Nick's been… He's going to be a little late." A little late? It was one o'clock and she hadn't even heard from him.

  By one-thirty, Dani had decided that she must have misunderstood. By two she knew she hadn't misunderstood, but that something must have detained him— car trouble or an accident. By two-thirty, she was furious. He could at least have the decency to call. By three o'clock, when hunger forced her to the employees' lounge to search for an apple, she couldn't meet Marcie's questioning glance. Marcie knew as well as she that there had been no phone call.

  There wasn't a piece of fruit to be found in the lounge. Dani located a box of stale crackers in one cabinet and munched one while she let her thoughts run rampant. It was obvious that she had been stood up. Damn him! Did he care so little for her feelings or her schedule that he could just not show up? It was all right for him to disrupt her life, drag her anywhere and everywhere he wanted to go, when he wanted to, but apparently she couldn't count on him.

  Count on him? No. She wasn't letting herself be lulled into doing that, was she? "Oh, God, I know better," she moaned. For a moment she saw Rob, smiling and promising, Forever, Dani.

  She jerked her attention back to the formica counter in front of her, immobilized for a moment, then she crunched the lid into place on the box of crackers and tossed it into the cabinet just as Chet Davis entered the lounge and headed directly for the coffeepot. He paused while pouring his coffee and glanced at her.

  "You look very nice today, D.J. You ought to wear your hair down more often."

  She mumbled something and all but fled from the lounge. That was another thing! She'd made an absolute fool of herself today, wearing her hair like a teenager, exposing herself to speculation by everyone in the office. If he thought he could treat her with so little regard, then whatever he thought they had going for them was over, finished, through. There would be no more of just what he wanted when he wanted.

  What he wants, when he wants! Those had been Marilyn's exact words. Dani stopped in her march down the hall and heard the words again. What he wants, when he wants. She had ignored everything the woman said that night, but now she herself was making at least one similar complaint. Should she have listened to Marilyn? You haven't seen it yet, but Nick does have his darker side, she had said. Dani shook her head and took another step. Ask him about the divorce, or better yet, read the file.

  Dani couldn't do that. Not then. Not now. And yet, was there something in the file she ought to know? Yesterday she would have sworn no. This afternoon she wasn't sure. Nick can be violent. Your only danger will come from him.

  Without stopping to think any further, Dani turned and went back down the hall through which she had just stormed, past the employees' lounge, to the cavernous room that housed central files. She whirled the revolving index to the "S's" and scanned down them until she found the number she needed. With swift competence she located the drawer and extracted the file.

  Only when she held the fat, well-used folder in her hands, did she pause. She leaned against the filing cabinets and studied the outside of the folder. The information on the label was scanty—it always was—but the case number told her that the divorce had been filed nine years ago. Nine years. That was a very long time for Marilyn to harbor so much animosity. The sheer size of the folder told her that there had been a lot of activity during the divorce proceedings. Of course, there would have been a lot of arguing over property. Marilyn would have seen to that. There wouldn't have been as much property nine years ago as there was now. Maybe that was part of the reason Marilyn was so upset. Maybe she resented not having waited until Nick had firmly established himself. Dani turned the file in her hand. Maybe—

  What am I doing? One clear flash of understanding speared through the morass of her thoughts. The man is three hours late for a lunch date. That's alt! I won't let Marilyn's insinuations—I won't let myself make it into anything else.

  Quickly, before she could change her mind, she scribbled a notation on an out card and inserted it in place of the file. She carried the file with her, but instead of returning to her office, she turned at the hallway and went directly to Frank Merriweather's office. His secretary announced her and admitted her immediately.

  Frank Merriweather, as usual, missed little. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

  Dani handed him the file. "I've checked this out to you. Would you please lock it away somewhere?"

  He glanced at the label. "Have you read it?"

  "No."

  "Do you want to read it?"

  "I want you to lock it away. If Nick wants me to know what's in it, he will tell me."

  "But you won't ask him?"

  "No."

  He dropped the file onto his desk and looked into her eyes. "You haven't told him anything about yourself, have you?"

  This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to take the file and not question her, certainly not about herself.

  "You're going to have to talk about it someday, D.J.," he said patiently, "and if you ever want to have anything lasting with Nick Sanders, you are going to have to tell him."

  You're going to have to talk about it someday. Those were the words that had repeatedly invaded the cloak of numbness in which she had wrapped herself for so long, a litany she had grown to hate. Healing won't come until you do. Well, healing had come, she had made it come. And without talking about it.

  Her glance wavered slightly as she met his probing gray eyes. "I appreciate what you're saying, Mr. Merriweather. I really do. And I know you mean well." She swallowed and tried to calm her hammering heart. "Nick and I are seeing each other. That's all. When, if ever, there is any possibility of developing something 'lasting' with him, then, of course, I'll have to consider telling him." She shook her head adamantly. "But not now. Now it's no more his business than what is in that file is mine."

  "Ask him about it, D.J. It's not as bad as you fear."

  "I can't."

  "Why? Because you're afraid of what you'll learn, or because you're afraid he might question you?"

  "Mr. Merriweather…" Her voice trailed off in a silent plea.

  "All right, D.J.," he said, sighing. "I'll keep the file, and I'll keep my unsought advice for a while."

  She tried to smile. "Thank you."

  "Don't thank me, D.J., until we learn whether I've done the right thing."

  There wasn't much point in remaining in the office-she accomplished nothing—but she did stay, until almost five o'clock when she handed Marcie the title opinion she had dictated earlier.

  "There's a reason," Marcie said in easy understanding.

  Dani smiled grimly, nodded acceptance of Marcie's sympathy and walked quickly down the hallway without answering.

  "D.J.!" Marcie's clear voice cut through the conservative quiet of the offices, stopping Dani at the end of the hall where she had to turn to reach the elevators. Dani whirled around to see her secretary standing in the hallway, the receiver of the telephone in one h
and, gesturing wildly. Only one phone call could have made Marcie breach office etiquette by yelling down the hall, and Dani breached it equally badly by running down the hall. She saw Marcie grinning broadly as she turned the corner into her office and grabbed for the telephone. Breathless, frightened, angry and relieved, she pushed the button with the blinking light to answer the call. "Hello?"

  Nick's voice crackled over the line, muffled by the intermittent roar of an unidentifiable noise. "Dani? I'm glad I caught you before you left the office." There was a rumble and a strange whooshing sound. "I'm sorry about lunch." But his next words were lost to her.

  "Where are you?" She practically yelled, sensing that he wouldn't be able to hear her any better than she could hear him.

  "I'm at a truck stop about fifteen miles from the drill site," he yelled back. "We've had trouble with the rig. I've been out here since nine this morning, and this is the first chance I've had to get to a phone."

  "You're not drilling already, are you?" she called into the strange noises that floated over the phone wire.

  "I told you we were going to drill an oil well," he yelled back and even with the poor connection she could hear the teasing chuckle in his voice. "But I've been up to my neck in mud and grease all day. If you promise not to throw something at me when I finally get there, I'll clean up and take you to dinner any place you want to go."

  Dani was laughing when she hung up the telephone and still laughing when she walked out of her office. Marcie stood in her alcove, arms crossed over her chest, facing the doorway and waiting for some word.

  "The reason, Marcie," Dani chuckled, "was a cow chip."

  Marcie's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "A what?"

  Dani laughed again and repeated her words as she walked down the hall. "A cow chip."