Daddy Lessons

by Stella Bagwell

  “What do you mean?” he asked, then, unable to resist, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the side of her neck.

  Moaning, she reached for the sides of his waist. “Don’t do this, Joe,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Don’t tempt me to have sex with you. I don’t ever intend to give myself to any man, unless I marry him. And we both certainly know you don’t want that.”

  Like a dash of cold water, her words sobered him. He pulled back from her and looked into her eyes. “You mean…are you suggesting that you’re a virgin?”

  Hearing him say it caused a flush of embarrassment to wash over her face. “I know you think that’s prudish, but I’ve been through too much in the past to simply give myself away now.”

  His expression turned incredulous. “A few minutes ago you were willing to give me anything. You weren’t too worried about your virginity then.”

  The color receded from her face to leave her cheeks deathly pale. “A few minutes ago I was out of my mind. And so were you,” she added.

  His features suddenly grim, he lifted his arms to either side of her head and planted her to the door. “If you’ll do a little thinking, Savanna, you’ll remember that you’re the one who’s been telling me I need to loosen up, quit living my life by the rules. What’s the matter now? You don’t like me this way?”

  She loved him this way! Every way! Damn it, couldn’t he see that?

  “You just want sex, Joe. And I…Well, after that phone rang and I—” she stopped and drew in a bracing breath “—could think, I realized that I needed more than that.”

  Joe wanted to be annoyed with her. He wanted to say to hell with her starched ideas. But he couldn’t. The anguish in her eyes, the quivering of her lips touched him, turned his insides as soft as butter.

  “Maybe I need more, too, Savanna. But I—” Shaking his head he dropped his arms and stepped back from her. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got some wells to drill.”

  Her eyes searched his. “What—about Megan?”

  Turning, he picked up a hard hat and jammed it on his head. “Do you really want to stay with her?”

  Maybe Joe was right, Savanna silently reasoned. Maybe it wouldn’t be wise to insert herself into his home and the life of his daughter. But Megan needed her. And what could it hurt now? She’d already committed the mistake of falling in love with him.

  “Megan feels comfortable with me and I don’t like to think of her having to stay with strangers.”

  He tucked his shirt into his blue jeans. Just watching him made Savanna weak in the knees. She’d come so close to making love to him. She still wanted to make love to him! But what she wanted and needed were two entirely different things. She had to remember that.

  “Then stay with her,” he said, his voice sounding suddenly drained. “I’ll be leaving in the morning. She’ll be all right with Ophelia until you get off work tomorrow evening.”

  “Thank you, Joe.”

  He slanted her a wry look. “For what? Answering the phone and saving you from my clutches?”

  Her heart felt sick and she wasn’t even sure why. She only knew that she wanted Joe in a way that he would never want her.

  “No,” she said quietly. “For allowing me to stay with your daughter. She’s come to mean a lot to me.”

  And Savanna had come to mean a lot to him, Joe realized. He hadn’t meant it to turn out that way. She’d walked into this office a complete stranger, just a replacement for Edie. And that’s all he’d planned for her to be. But now he couldn’t imagine this place without her. He couldn’t imagine himself without her.

  “I’ll tell her tonight that you’ll be coming tomorrow after work.”

  She nodded and he turned and opened the door. Before he walked through it, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’ll be out in the work yard…if you need me.”

  Was he being deliberately suggestive? In spite of everything, the idea of Joe doing something like flirting put a smile on her face. “If I do, I’ll find you.”

  He reached out and ruffled the top of her blond hair. “Well, if you have to come looking, don’t forget to wear a hard hat. I don’t want anything falling on this head of yours.”

  The soft look of concern in his eyes went straight to Savanna’s heart and for one wild moment she considered taking him by the hand, tugging him back into the office and locking the door behind them. But she couldn’t. She’d made her choice long ago, the day she’d watched Terry being lowered into the cold ground.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on taking a risk.” Not for anyone, or anything, she thought sadly.

  He nodded, then turned and went on down the corridor. Savanna watched him until he was totally out of sight before she shut the door and walked over to a pile of pens scattered on the floor in front of Joe’s desk.

  Squatting on her heels, she gathered them back into a small tin replica of an oilcan. By the time she placed it on the corner of his desk, tears were falling from her eyes.

  Chapter Ten

  “This is my very best dive, Savanna. I could do it when I was six years old,” Megan said with proud accomplishment.

  Savanna pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead to see Megan standing on the edge of the swaying diving board. “Okay, I can see you better now. Go for it,” she urged the teenager.

  Megan bounced once, twice, then sent her slim body arcing through the air in a tight somersault. At the last minute her arms and legs straightened and she entered the water with hardly a splash.

  Savanna was applauding when Megan’s head bobbed above the surface of the water.

  “That was great, honey! You looked like an Olympic star!” Savanna exclaimed.

  A happy smile on her face, Megan climbed out of the pool and came over to where Savanna sat on the patio.

  “Do you really think so?” the teen asked.

  “I certainly do. Does your father know you have a talent for diving?” Savanna asked her.

  Megan shook her head. “No,” she answered glumly. “He’s never been too interested in sports.”

  “Well, perhaps you should tell him how much you like it, anyway. He might surprise you and let you take more lessons.”

  Frowning, Megan reached for a towel and swiped it down her long legs. “I doubt it. He only thinks academics are important.”

  How sad, Savanna thought, that Joe had grown up to be just like Joseph, who’d thought science and learning to be an oilman was the only thing his young son had needed in his life.

  She reached for a glass of lemonade sitting on a nearby table. After taking a long sip, Savanna glanced thoughtfully at Megan. “I think you have to agree that your dad seems to be relaxing about a few things.”

  Megan tilted her head to one side as she contemplated Savanna’s words. “Well, he has been different here lately. Ever since you came to work for him. I think he likes you. A lot.”

  Savanna slid her sunglasses back on her nose. Oh, yes, she thought wryly as memories of the heated moments they’d shared yesterday in the office swept through her mind. Joe liked the physical parts of her, all right.

  “I don’t know about that. But he’s just now learning how to be a daddy, Megan. It might take him a while to get the hang of it.”

  Smiling, Megan sank down beside Savanna’s chair, wound her arm through hers and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “Well, I can be patient with Daddy as long as you’re around, Savanna,” she said, then her expression turned serious as another thought hit her. “You—you’re not going to leave, are you?”

  “Leave?” Savanna asked with surprise. “You mean like leave town?”

  Her face a picture of worry, Megan nodded.

  Savanna knew exactly what was going through Megan’s mind, and her heart went out to her. So many times, Savanna had wanted to be reassured that nothing would change in her life, that her home would always be in the same place, her friends would remain the same and her parents would never leave her for any reason.

  Smiling gently,
Savanna patted Megan’s damp cheek. “No, honey. I’m not going to leave. Oklahoma City is my home now.”

  “Good,” the girl said with a huge sigh of relief. “’Cause I don’t want you to leave. Ever.”

  Ever. Savanna didn’t think Joe would want her hanging around for that long.

  Joe stood with his boots ankle-deep in mud and his shirt sopped with rain as he waited for the bulldozer to come to a halt. As soon as it did, he strode angrily over to the piece of heavy equipment and climbed up on the track.

  “I don’t know who the hell decided the reserve pit was supposed to be here. Whoever it was I’d like to get my hands on them!” Joe shouted over the idling motor.

  The operator shook his head. “It wasn’t me, Mr. McCann. I just push where they tell me to push.”

  “Well, this will never work. Fill this damn hole up and don’t do anything else until I tell you!”

  The burly operator shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you say, boss,” he said, then throttled up the engine to a loud roar.

  Joe jumped down from the tracks and dismissed the driver with a wave of his hand. Then he turned and walked across fifty yards of sludge to a blue-and-white doghouse.

  Three men were inside the small metal workroom, sitting on a bench lined against one wall. A gas lantern sat on the floor at one end, shedding precious little light against the black, rainy weather.

  “Hey, boss.” The youngest of the three spoke up. “We just ate lunch. But we might have a sandwich or two left if you want one.”

  Joe glanced at his watch. It was six o’clock in the evening, but the men were just now eating lunch. Even though he didn’t ask or demand it, they gave him 200 percent of themselves. At times like this, his crew’s loyalty made him feel guilty, made him wonder if they didn’t deserve a better boss, who could make McCann more productive, one who could double their wages instead of barely meeting payroll, a boss like his father.

  “Thanks, Robert, but I’ll get something to eat later.”

  “Have you ever seen rain like this?” one of the other men asked.

  Joe pulled off his hard hat and wiped a handkerchief over his face. “I’ve never seen anything like this, period,” he muttered. “And I don’t mean this damn rain.”

  The three workmen exchanged anxious glances, then the oldest, who was the foreman of the crew, asked, “What’s the matter?”

  Joe wiped a hand through his damp hair. “I hate to tell you this, Mac, but this rat hole needs to be moved a good thirty yards to the north.”

  “What! The men have worked their butts off on the hole. Now we’ve got to move? Why didn’t someone tell us earlier?”

  Joe empathized with the foreman, but there was nothing he could do. “I could have told you earlier, but the Twin Valley rig needed me over there for the biggest part of the day.”

  “I know. I know,” Mac said, then waved his hand toward the open door and the muddy ground outside. “But what’s the matter with this spot? From what the geologist said we’ll find gas anywhere we sink a hole around here.”

  “I’ve read the reports and he’s right. You would find gas here, but I doubt you’d ever get it out of the ground.”

  “Why?” asked the crewman who’d so far been silent.

  “Rock,” Joe answered flatly.

  “Damn,” Mac cursed, “we deal with rock all the time. We’ll drill around the stuff, or go at an angle.”

  “Not in this case,” Joe replied. “There’s a solid ledge of it, running a good three hundred feet down. If we drill here we’re gonna have nothing but hell to go through.”

  The foreman cursed while the other two men groaned.

  “Look, Joe, I know that you’re the boss, but you can’t know there’s rock like that right here. Even the geologist won’t know that for sure until we start to drill and pull up ground samples.”

  Joe’s blue eyes turned steely. “I am a geologist, Mac. And a damned good one! Don’t try to tell me what’s under this ground!”

  All three crewmen stared at Joe as if he were someone they’d never met before instead of their boss.

  “Well, hell, Joe—I wasn’t trying to tell you. I didn’t know you were a geologist!” Mac exclaimed.

  “Forget it,” Joe snapped. “You’re right, anyway. No one knows what’s really under here until the drill bit starts bringing it up. But I’ve got a gut feeling about this. So go get the rest of the crew and start moving this heap of metal!”

  The men jumped to their feet and began grabbing slickers and hard hats. Joe left them and trudged on up the slope until he reached a camp trailer.

  Inside he kicked off his muddy boots and sank into a grungy armchair. He needed food and coffee, but he was too tired and disgusted to bother making either one.

  Normally Joe preferred this outdoor work to the confines of the office. But not this time. Everything had seemed to be going wrong. And it was hard to concentrate on problems when Savanna was all he could think about.

  As he waited for the coffee to boil on the small propane cookstove, he pulled the blinds on the window and looked out at the miserable weather. Rain was still falling steadily, turning the newly excavated earth into a bog of red mush.

  Oklahoma rarely saw this much rain in June. In fact, when he’d left early this morning, Oklahoma City had been clear and dry. But for some reason a band of thunderheads had decided to spill their guts right over Rig 243, or, more aptly named, Rock Ridge.

  Face it, Joe, it’s not the rain that’s bothering you, a voice sounded in his head. And it’s not the wasted time and manpower of moving the rat hole. It was Savanna.

  He hadn’t even been gone a whole day and already he missed her. He never thought he’d ever feel this way about a woman. Especially after his failed marriage to Deirdre. But Savanna had somehow gotten into his blood and he didn’t know how to get her out. Or even if he wanted to.

  Hell, Joe, you want to get her in bed, that’s all, the voice continued. Groaning aloud, Joe glanced at the coffeepot. It wasn’t boiling yet. But his thoughts were.

  He didn’t just want to make love to Savanna, he argued with himself as he walked over to the far end of the room and pulled off his wet shirt. Yesterday in the office, when he’d had her in his arms, he’d felt more than just hot lust. All sorts of soft, protective feelings had jumbled themselves up with the physical urge to be close to her. And later, when he’d come home and sat chatting with Megan at the supper table, it was as if something had been missing. And he’d realized it was Savanna.

  Closing his eyes in desperation, he blotted the rain from his shoulders and chest with the dirty shirt, then tossed it on the floor.

  Joe didn’t want a wife. And Savanna didn’t want a lover. So what was he going to do? Just forget her? Yeah, he thought grimly. There was about as much chance of that as him forgetting how to breathe.

  He’d barely poured his coffee when a voice interrupted. “Joe! Mr. McCann! Are you in there?”

  Joe looked around just as one of the hands burst through the door. His face was deathly white even though he’d obviously been running.

  “What’s the matter?” Joe asked quickly.

  “It’s Mac,” he blurted between gasps for air. “He’s fallen. I think he’s hurt bad.”

  Not bothering with a shirt, Joe jerked on his boots, then motioned for the worker to precede him out the door.

  “What happened? Where is he?” Joe fired the questions at the young man as the two of them hurried across the muddy site.

  “Over by the derrick. He was trying to loosen a cable or something. I don’t know. I just heard him yell and then I looked around and saw him facedown on the ground.”

  By the time they reached Mac, the rest of the concerned crew had crowded around the injured man. They parted immediately to let Joe through. He squatted on his heels and touched the foreman’s shoulder. “Mac, can you hear me?”

  When he failed to get a response, Joe felt along the side of his neck for a pulse.

 
“Is he breathing?” someone asked.

  “I don’t—” Before Joe could finish the sentence, Mac let out a low groan. Joe lowered his ear to Mac’s mouth.

  “Get—me up,” he gasped weakly.

  “No. You’re not to move!” he told the foreman, then yelled over his shoulder. “Robert, get on the phone in my truck!”

  “Do they have 911 here?” the young worker asked.

  “Hell, I don’t know! Call the sheriff’s office. I doubt an ambulance could make it back in here, anyway. We’ll probably have to haul him out to the nearest county road. Now go!”

  Robert raced away and Joe turned back to the older man. “Hang on, Mac,” he said urgently. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

  In the end, Joe was right. The mountain road was too rough for an ambulance. In order to protect his neck and back the men carefully loaded Mac onto a sheet of plyboard then pushed him into the back of Joe’s pickup.

  Joe climbed in with him and motioned for the driver to head down the mountain.

  As they rocked slowly over the rough road, Joe did his best to keep Mac talking and alert. “Mac, you’re getting soft,” Joe told the injured man. “This looks more like a log trail than a rig road. What the heck did you do, give the grader man a paid vacation?”

  Mac tried to smile but it came off more like a grimace. “I didn’t know—I—I’d be coming over it like this.”

  Joe struggled to laugh, but the sound that came out of his throat sounded more like a frog croaking. In that moment he wished Savanna was here beside him. She’d know just what to say to Mac to keep him going. She’d be able to laugh and smile and assure him that everything was going to be all right.

  “Where do you hurt, Mac?”

  “My chest,” he whispered. “Can’t breathe.”

  “You’ll be fine. It’s probably just a broken rib or two.”

  “I—don’t know, Joe. It hurts like hell.”

  Joe looked through the back windshield to the road up ahead of them. At this snail’s pace they were never going to make it to the county road.