Texas Fire

by Gerry Bartlett

  “Threats?” Rowdy stood. Damn it, he knocked over the wineglass and it shattered. Before he realized what he was doing, he stepped wrong and cut his foot. “Shit!”

  “Oh God. Look at the blood.” Karen threw her towel down on the glass. “Let me help you inside. We have a first aid kit in the kitchen.”

  Rowdy limped after her while she offered to call a doctor. “Forget it. Let me wash it off and see if there’s a piece of glass still in there.” They settled at the bar while she found the kit, then took care of what turned out to be a minor wound. “You have your pride and I have mine. So I’ll go along with your lie. I don’t think we’ll be here long if the lawyers say we can’t shut down your rigs. This fake affair of ours isn’t going to last past our leaving here.”

  “Thank you!” Karen finished putting a bandage on his foot, then looked up at him. “You really are a nice man.”

  “I’m not feeling nice right now. I’m feeling manipulated.” Rowdy got up and looked around the massive gourmet kitchen. Rich folks. Karen left the mess they’d made—a bloody towel, bandage wrappers, and broken glass—without a second’s thought, murmuring about leaving it for the help to clean up in the morning. It was careless and not his way of dealing with things. When they ran into her brother in the hall, she giggled and grabbed Rowdy’s hand, tugging him toward her bedroom.

  “Out of our way, King. This one’s in a hurry!” She laughed and shoved Rowdy inside a room that was a nightmare of pink and lace and smelled like a perfume factory. Then she leaned against the door. “Give him a few minutes to get to his office. He’ll probably work for hours before he goes to bed. King is a night owl.”

  “Well, I’m not. I have an early morning.” Rowdy jerked open the door, looked both ways, then limped to his room, easing the door shut and locking it. He’d had quite enough of the Sanders twins. He never thought he’d hope the lawyers figured out that they couldn’t shut down those wells, but now he was wishing for a speedy departure. The sooner, the better.

  * * *

  Megan moaned when the bed shuddered. “Go away.”

  A wet tongue hit her face and she was suddenly wide awake. “That is not sexy.”

  “Good to know.” Rowdy laughed. “Lucky, did you hear that? Licking Megan’s face is not sexy.”

  “What time is it?” Megan pulled the covers over her head. Too damn early, that was for sure.

  “We need to get out to the rigs, and there are breakfast smells coming from the kitchen. Biscuits. Bacon. Get up and get dressed for work.” Rowdy shook her.

  “Get your hand off my boob.”

  “Oops. Thought it was your shoulder. I’m taking Lucky out for a quick walk, then one of the cowboys is watching him until we leave. His name is Buck, and he sure would like to adopt this hound. Think about it. It would make our life easier.”

  Megan threw back the covers and sat up. “He’s my dog. He is not getting adopted. Now, go away so I can get dressed.” She gave Lucky a head rub, then watched them go. Once the door clicked shut, she analyzed the look on Rowdy’s face as he’d closed the door. Then she looked down at what she was wearing. Oh hell. King had obviously put her to bed and decided to have a little fun while he was at it. The sheer white top was supposed to be a bathing suit cover-up. She hadn’t found it last night, or she could have put it on over the bikini. Worn over her naked body made it an invitation to play. And Rowdy had read that message loud and clear. Damn.

  With a groan that meant she was still feeling the effects of the cactus, Megan rolled out of bed and into a quick shower. Minimum makeup and work clothes got her down the hall to breakfast faster than she would have thought possible. Rowdy sat at the table looking at the Houston newspaper, the business section. The rest of the paper, along with the Wall Street Journal and the San Antonio and Austin daily papers were on the table, too.

  “Good morning. Are you Carmelita?” Megan sat carefully.

  “Yes, I am. Coffee, señorita?” The housekeeper brought over a pot. The woman was probably in her sixties, gray streaking her black hair and with a comfortable figure that showed she enjoyed eating her own delicious food. She had intelligent black eyes that roved over the kitchen. She snapped out orders in Spanish to a young woman who scurried about behind her, working at the massive stove.

  “Coffee. Yes, please. I’m Megan Calhoun. That was a delicious dinner last night. Thank you.” Megan held out her cup. Cream and every kind of sweetener imaginable were already on the table.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. This morning we have eggs, bacon, biscuits, and anything else you might want, Miss Megan. Or I can fix you huevos rancheros.” Carmelita set the pot on the table. “Butter and honey are on the table.”

  “I’ll just have whatever Rowdy is having, only half as much.” Megan stirred her coffee. “It smells wonderful. I guess King is still in bed.”

  “Oh no. King is out in the horse barn. One of the horses is having a baby. He is very worried. It is an important foal. Anyway, it started in the middle of the night. Should be over soon. The vet was called. We pray the mama horse is going to be okay.” Carmelita carried over two plates, one piled higher than the other.

  “Yes, I tend to forget this is a working ranch.” Megan picked up her fork and dug in. “This looks fantastic. I love huevos rancheros.” She tasted the Mexican-style egg dish. “Perfect. Not too spicy.”

  “It’s one of King’s favorites.” Carmelita smiled.

  “Thanks, Carmelita. We are certainly lucky Megan and King are friends and he invited us to stay here. This is a treat.” Rowdy set aside the newspaper and grinned at the housekeeper, then turned to Megan. “Price of oil is up a few cents. That’s good.”

  “So, maybe it isn’t so bad if we can’t shut down these wells.” Megan buttered a biscuit. It fell apart in her hands. “Though I wouldn’t mind hanging around here with food like this.”

  “Did I hear you say you can’t shut down the wells?” King came in through the back door, smelling of horse and morning sunshine. “Dish me up some of that and a big coffee. Did you meet everyone, Abuela?”

  “Yes, I did. How is the yegua, King?” Carmelita handed him a mug.

  “The mare’s tired but she did well. We have a fine new colt in the barn.” He took a swallow, then walked over to the sink and washed his hands. “Thought we’d lose them both for a while there. Breech birth. But the doc handled it. Can’t say I’d want my hands up in that business.” He laughed, clearly in a good mood. “Megan, you didn’t answer me. No shutdown?”

  “We don’t have orders yet. Too early. We were just talking about the price of oil. It’s still inching up.” She smiled at King, liking this side of him. He walked over and kissed her cheek, before sitting at the head of the table. He glanced at the headlines on the newspapers before shoving them aside, then concentrating on his breakfast.

  “Let me know as soon as you hear. Not that I’m in a hurry to lose you two. Or at least wouldn’t want to lose you, sugar.” King winked. “Baker, can’t you let her stay here today while you do whatever it is you have to over at the rigs? Megan was a champion rider as a teenager. Bet you’d love to ride out with me later, wouldn’t you, Meg?”

  Megan smiled at him. “Gosh, I haven’t been on a horse in years, King.” The idea of a ride was tempting. “I would love that.”

  “That wouldn’t satisfy her father’s will, would it, Megan?” Rowdy reached for another biscuit in the basket the housekeeper had set in the middle of the table.

  “Wait. You called Carmelita ‘abuela’. Is she your grandmother?” Megan stared at the housekeeper busily directing the young woman who was now loading the dishwasher.

  “Yes, she is.” King got up and put his arms around Carmelita. “Abuela, come sit down with us. Megan just figured out why you run this house and Karen and me. Believe me, it’s her choice, Megan. I would have her in a rocking chair, but she insists on working.”

  “It’s true. I have been here since the children’s mama, my sweet Cecilia, and
their papa were killed when their plane crashed when the twins were pequeño.” Carmelita brought a cup of coffee to the table. “It was terrible. I will never ride in one of those tiny airplanes. Of course, King insists on flying one now. Worries me sick.” She shook her finger at him. “I tell you. It was a tragedy. Both their parents in love and gone so young.” She crossed herself. “Que descansen en paz.”

  Megan leaned forward and patted her hand. She spoke words of sympathy to her in Spanish, glad she’d learned it when she’d had a nanny who’d helped care for all the Calhoun children until they were in junior high school.

  Carmelita thanked her, then got up from the table. “You speak very well, Miss Megan.”

  “Muchas gracias.” Megan picked up her fork again. “I’ll say it again. Your cooking is delicious.”

  “You’re right about that. Yes, I’d like for her to retire, but she’d still have to do kitchen duty when I’m home. No one cooks like my abuela.” King smiled and nodded at Rowdy, who echoed the praise as he cleaned his plate. “I forgot Megan could speak Spanish. It’s a helpful skill around here between San Antonio and the border. On the rigs, too. A lot of the workers near here are Hispanic. Do you know the language, Baker?”

  “I’m not good with foreign languages. Suck at them, if you want to know the truth. The few words I know in Spanish come out wrong, and the hands who speak it just laugh at me.” Rowdy shoved his empty plate away and tapped Megan’s shoulder. “We need to get going.”

  “He’s right. It was nice to talk to you, Señora, but I have to go to work.” Megan stirred around the pile of scrambled eggs on her plate, suddenly losing her appetite. What the hell did she know about the oil business? Yesterday she’d seen men with work gloves using chain and enormous tools to push pipe into the ground. It was part of the drilling process, but she didn’t have a clue why they were doing it or what made them run around spraying water with a hose to create so much freaking mud. Then there was the generator that made such a hellacious noise she’d thought her head would explode.

  Even getting to where the men were working was treacherous, with scaffolding and ladders, and boards laid across to get from one section to another. It was a miracle there weren’t more accidents on the rigs every day. It was a hazardous job. She and Rowdy were supposed to climb up there, too, and “inspect” what the men were doing. She got filthy just watching from down below. Wading in for a closer look didn’t bear thinking about. To top it all off, they were supposed to see whether the crew was following the safety rules outlined in a thick book that Rowdy had threatened to make her read.

  “Sugar, you look like you want to give up. My offer still stands. We can take off for Italy and let your family company go hang.” King reached for her hand. “The oil rigs are no place for a lady.”

  “You sound like a fifties throwback, Sanders.” Rowdy frowned at King. “Megan wants to prove she can handle her job. Why don’t you relax and let her try?” He nodded at Megan. “She hasn’t had a chance yet. Her father thought she could cut it, why don’t you?”

  Megan’s mouth fell open. Rowdy was defending her, showing faith in her. Where had that come from? So far she’d done nothing but drag down his precious schedule.

  “Thanks, Rowdy.” She smiled and took another bite of eggs with Carmelita’s ranchero sauce, feeling a renewed interest in food.

  “My God, what time did you people get up?” Karen trailed in wearing what Megan knew was a designer-label lingerie set in red silk and lace. “Rowdy, baby, I didn’t think you’d have enough energy left for an early day after what you put me through last night.” She leaned over and nibbled on his ear.

  Rowdy’s face turned red. “Karen, don’t exaggerate. It was nothing.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” She smirked at Megan and leaned over his shoulder to snag a piece of bacon from a platter on the table. “You’d better fill your plate again, big guy. You’ll need your strength later.” She ran a hand over his chest, then up to ruffle his hair. “Carmelita, I’ll take my coffee and toast in my room.” She yawned. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” She waved and headed back down the hall.

  Carmelita muttered some things in Spanish that Megan was tempted to translate to Rowdy. It would make his face turn even redder. “That girl. If she is waiting for room service, she will starve. This is not a hotel.” She gave everyone at the table a stern look. “Or a burdel, even if my children try to act the childre traviesa.”

  “What’s that?” Rowdy looked from Carmelita to King.

  “Naughty children, of course. Now Karen’s gone and done it. Gotten Abuela stirred up.” King laughed. “Calm down, mi dulce.” He jumped up and gave Carmelita a hug. Then he leaned over Megan and squeezed her shoulders. “See what you did, speaking Spanish? She’s on a tear now. I’ll hear it all day unless I get on a horse and go out to check the fence line.”

  Megan laughed and finished cleaning her plate. “That fence probably needs checking anyway.” She pushed back from the table.

  “It can wait.” King put his arms around her. “Megan, honey, I didn’t sleep last night, either, but mine was from frustration. So, I’m going to bed. See you tonight. You be careful today.” He kissed her on the mouth, attempting to deepen it but failing when Megan gently pushed him back.

  “King, blame your exhaustion on your night with your horse, not frustration with me.” Megan patted his chest. “I’d like to see that new foal tonight. So, get some rest. I’ll see you later.”

  “You sure will. And we should know by then the status of the wells.” King let her go, then turned to Rowdy. “My sister is dear to me, Baker. If you think she’s your golden ticket, think again. She has an Italian prince on the hook, and I expect she’ll reel him in once we get to Tuscany next month.”

  “I hope he’s worthy of her.” Rowdy stood and tossed his napkin on his empty plate. “I like Karen. I know she’s just playing. Megan, I’ll get Lucky. Meet me in the truck.” He thanked Carmelita for the breakfast and walked out the back door.

  “Was that necessary?” Megan faced King. “Warning him off Karen?”

  “You never know who might turn into a fortune hunter. If they’re burning up the sheets, he might be getting ideas.” King pulled Megan against him. “Baker’s not like us. You think I didn’t do a quick background check as soon as I invited him into my home? He’s from nothing, Megan. Onetime football hero, college on a scholarship. Tore up his knee in the army in Afghanistan, so his dreams of the NFL fell flat. Of course that makes him something of a hero in my book, so I give him props for that. Still, he might hold on to some of those big dreams he had before he got hurt. Marrying a rich woman could make them happen.”

  “Oh, please.” Megan did not like this line of thought.

  “Hey, he didn’t dump your sister, did he? She drop-kicked him for Mason MacKenzie. Remember, you wouldn’t even know the guy except that he dated your new half sister for most of his adult life. Is that really a recommendation? How well do you even know Cassidy?”

  “Stop it. She’s family now, and she told me all about Rowdy before I decided to do this year with him. I trust that she’s steered me to a great guy who has no ulterior motives. I’m the one who hijacked his career and made him take me with him. He hasn’t been exactly thrilled with any of it.” The truth of that was undeniable. The fact that a few sparks were now flying between them was probably due to the fact that they’d been through tornado hell together. And that they were stuck in close quarters and had to look forward to the next eleven months and twenty-something days of more of the same.

  “Honestly, Rowdy doesn’t seem to be dazzled by money. In fact, it puts him off. Look what happened when his girl found out she was a Calhoun. She dumped him for a billionaire. That had to leave a bad taste in his mouth.”

  “Or a craving for a sugar mama of his own, Megan.” King glanced at Carmelita, who was watching them. “We’ll talk more tonight. When you’ve had a chance to see just how this new job doesn’t suit you.”
He looked her over and frowned. “Work boots and baggy jeans? Sorry, that outfit doesn’t do you justice.” He pulled her closer. “I like you in silk, like what you had on last night. You were made to wear fine things and to be taken care of. I’d like to do that.”

  Megan studied his handsome face. He meant it. An easy life. Strange that the promise didn’t move her more than it did. She felt Carmelita’s eyes on her and looked past King’s shoulder to see her approving nod. Why? Because Megan spoke Spanish and had a similar background to the wealthy rancher? It was more than a lot of couples she’d known who’d jumped into marriage had going for them.

  Unfortunately, the divorce rate in her crowd was sky-high. Take Karen’s third strike in the marriage game. She was typical, unfortunately. Megan had seen bad marriages up close growing up, and it had made her shy away from committing. At twenty-eight she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever risk a permanent arrangement.

  King grinned. “Keep thinking, sugar. Remember, I can take you away in a heartbeat and still buy you a piece of Calhoun Petroleum if that’s what you want.”

  “You’re pushing me, King. Stop it. You’re a good friend, that’s all. I wish you’d remember that.” She eased away from him. Too bad he was way too used to getting his own way. Spoiled rich boy.

  Who’d lost both his parents when he was young and been raised by his grandmother. He also worked hard to keep his ranch running. Not so spoiled, then. Shoot. She was a little too tempted by what he was offering, and that rankled. No, she wanted to earn her inheritance, didn’t she?

  “See you later.” She finally got out of there and walked to the waiting truck. Looking around, she thought about what King was offering her—affluence, a man who wanted her desperately, and a life of ease that would be familiar. King would let her do what she wanted because she could wind him around her finger, and he made her laugh. But then there was the chemistry—or lack of—between them. Okay, she did feel a little something with King. He was an attractive man, after all. She’d have to say it was a slight sizzle. Would it come to a full boil with time?