Texas Fire

by Gerry Bartlett

  “Exactly.” Megan found her phone and checked her e-mail. “I asked Cass to send me the account so I could see what we’ve paid Comstock so far in royalties on this site. Check it out.” She passed Rowdy her phone.

  He read the numbers and then closed his eyes. “You can’t be serious. That much?”

  “And we haven’t completed all the wells yet. Can you imagine how much it will be once all of them are in and the price of oil recovers?” She reached for his hand. “Rowdy?” He was pale, as if he might faint. Impossible. He was way too tough for that. “What’s wrong?”

  “If that’s what he made on just three wells in a couple of months, what in the hell could you owe my family after decades and what I counted once were a dozen wells on our property?” He grabbed her water bottle and drained it. “And you don’t need to remind me that the price of oil for some of that time was double what it is now.”

  Megan got up to put her arms around him. She was relieved that he didn’t push her away. She leaned against his back as he sat there, clearly unable to take it all in.

  “Do you see now why I panicked in Marfa? This secret . . . it’s huge. And I knew what it could have meant to you.” Megan just breathed, wishing he would say something. Finally, she couldn’t stand the silence. “You see why it’s taking Cass so long to figure this out? My brother Ethan has been working on it, too. It’s almost impossible to put an exact figure on what we owe each person involved. Some wells go dry. Others are put idle for one reason or another. Like when the price per gallon bottomed out. Anyway, coming up with the totals is a nightmare.”

  “But it’ll still be in the millions, won’t it?” He got up quickly, stepping away from her. “How many people did your old man do this to, Megan? Steal their mineral rights? How much of a disaster is this for your family’s company?”

  “Over a hundred.” She swallowed, really nauseated as it hit her again, the sheer disgusting truth of it. And her mother had been in on it, too. Missy had the excuse of mental illness, though she’d bragged about pushing Conrad when he’d finally had an attack of conscience. Her dad? He must have been the one to have started the scam. The man with the nose for oil. No excuse worked for him. Rowdy stared at her, incredulous.

  “Yes, you heard me right. He defrauded over a hundred innocent people.” She didn’t know how long she could stay on her feet, the sheer impossibility of their making good on this finally hitting her. “Disaster? Rowdy, this is probably the deathblow for Calhoun Petroleum.”

  “Oh no. Declaring bankruptcy is the coward’s way out. It’s one of those tricks rich people use to get out of paying their debts.” He gripped her shoulders. “Tell me they’re not going to do that.”

  “We had a family meeting before I left town. We promised each other that we’d do whatever we could to avoid it.” Megan wanted to move in and lean against him but held off. He might not welcome that. “But as you reminded Sharon Wallace’s cousins, it’s not up to us. We have that board of directors and the shareholders who ultimately may call the shots. If it becomes too expensive to put things right, we may not have a choice.”

  “But who are the majority stockholders?” He stared at her until she had to answer.

  “The four of us. Conrad’s children.”

  “So, I’ll know who is really to blame if the company calls it quits.” He let her go and looked at the bedroom they’d shared every night since they’d picked up the RV. Then he stared at her. “I’ve got to think, Megan. I need time to process all of this. Maybe you’d better sleep with the dog tonight.” His face was bleak. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t create this mess, but I can’t forget right now that your name is Calhoun and that you were raised by that duplicitous son of a bitch.” He stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

  Megan held on to the table, afraid to move for fear of falling to the floor. How had a glorious night gone so completely to shit? She was sure Rowdy was wondering exactly the same thing. She finally did move and found her purse. Maybe she should call one of her sisters, get an update. If she had some promising news to give Rowdy . . . She laughed softly. Who was she kidding? She’d seen the numbers. There was little likelihood that he and his mother would be compensated even close to what they were owed—if they got anything at all. The oil in the fields out here could come up by itself and run to the refineries, and they still wouldn’t make enough capital to pay everyone like they should.

  She slipped into Lucky’s bedroom and crawled under the covers. The dog’s weight against her back provided a little comfort. But not nearly enough to keep her from crying herself to sleep. She wanted a different male in her bed, one that didn’t have a wagging tail and a wet nose.

  * * *

  Rowdy woke up dry-eyed and numb. He didn’t know what to do with what Megan had told him. Her father had done something so abhorrent he couldn’t get a handle on it. His sweet grandma had never harmed a soul. She’d worked in her garden and enjoyed planting a corn crop in the acreage behind her house. After Grandpa Roland died, she’d sometimes leased it to neighbors for their horses. Yep, he’d been named for his grandpa.

  When Grandma’s mind had started going, they’d kept her in her own home for as long as possible. There’d been a friendly church lady and a hired nurse stopping by at least twice a day to make sure she was all right. He and his mom had been there daily, too. He’d loved his grandma and her homemade cookies. When they’d started tasting funny, he’d pretended to eat them anyway, slipping them under the porch when she wasn’t looking. It had been a fall and a broken hip that had persuaded them she couldn’t stay in the house any longer. The oil wells were already pumping, but selling the house had brought to light that the mineral rights were long gone. His mother hadn’t questioned it.

  Rowdy showered, the smell of coffee letting him know that Megan was up, too. He’d missed her last night. Maybe it hadn’t been fair to push her into the other bedroom. But he’d been so confused, so damn hurt, he’d just reacted. He walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and stopped next to her where she was sitting at the dining table. She was dressed and ready for work.

  “I’m sorry, Megan.” He pulled her to her feet. “I know you didn’t make this mess. Forgive me?” He looked into her eyes, rimmed with red. Shit, she’d been crying.

  “No, I’m sorry. I wish I could promise to make things right for your family, but I don’t know if I can.” She stepped into his arms. “If there’s any way to get something for your mother, so she can retire, we’ll see to it. Okay?”

  “Forget about that now.” He kissed her. “I missed you last night.” He picked her up and tried to carry her into the bedroom. The narrow doorway into the bedroom almost made that impossible, but he managed. “I’m beginning to hate this RV.”

  She smiled up into his eyes. “How can you say that? I have very fond memories of this deluxe model.” She laughed shakily when he dropped her on the bed and whipped off his towel. “Why, Mr. Baker, I believe you intend to ravish me and make me late for work.”

  “I believe you’re right, Ms. Calhoun.” He fell on top of her, running his hands under her sweatshirt to find her breasts. “Did anyone tell you about our dress code? Workers of the female persuasion should wear appropriate undergarments at all times.”

  “Oh really. Then it’s your duty to always check to make sure I’m wearing or not wearing them. Right?” She ran her hands over his chest. “Guess I failed today. You going to punish me?”

  He shoved the shirt up to her chin and grasped a breast in one hand. “Have to.” He took her nipple in his mouth and devoured it, making it more pleasure than punishment.

  “Oh, I’m feeling very sorry for breaking your rules.” She moaned when he turned to the other breast. “You haven’t checked for my other undergarment yet. If you do, you might find I’m barely following your rules.”

  “Barely.” He grinned and made quick work of her jeans. “Ah, I see what you mean. This scrap of lace hardly qualifies as a
panty. I think you must take it off and find a more appropriate item in your wardrobe.” He slid his hand under the triangle of lace. “Or wear nothing at all.”

  “Mm. You’re making me really sorry I didn’t follow the dress code.” She kicked her jeans off the rest of the way and widened her legs. “Rowdy.” She looked up at him, suddenly serious. “Make love to me.” Her whisper hit him right in the heart.

  “All you had to do was ask.” He raised her hips and plunged into her, cursing when he bumped his head on the low ceiling. “Well, that wasn’t too smart.”

  She laughed and pulled his face down to kiss him. “I’m beginning to understand why you’re sick of the RV. We need to settle this deal at the site and get the hell out of here. Surely they’ll either let us come home or stop in a big city for a few days. I have dreams of a hotel and a king-sized bed.” Her eyes closed when he pushed into her again. “But enough talk. Take me higher, lover. You just need to watch your head while you do it.”

  Rowdy held on to her and moved, loving the way she wrapped her arms around him and whispered his name. When they both came together, it was a miracle of sensation he knew he’d never forget. Finally they lay side by side. The cool air on his back reminded him that he needed to either cover up or get dressed. Instead he leaned over her and looked into her eyes.

  “I love you, Megan. Do you believe that?”

  “I’m trying to. But after all—”

  He shut her up with a finger over her lips. “No buts. Just accept it.”

  She nodded. “I love you, too, Rowdy.”

  “All right, then. Let’s get dressed and go kick some butt. I can’t wait to fire Clint Stephens, and you gave me the ammunition to do it. I really don’t like that asshole.”

  Megan shoved him out of bed. “Then, let’s get going. You can fire him, but I get to watch. Remember who found all that dirt on him. And I’m not through looking.” She wiggled out of bed, giving him an arch look as she pulled on her jeans without panties under them. “Ah, dress codes. Who would have thought they could be so much fun?”

  Rowdy groaned. “Fun? I think they may be torture.” He chased her down the hall, then realized Lucky was barking from the front bedroom. “Get your dog and walk him down to Raylene’s. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Yes, sir.” She pulled on a sweatshirt and a jacket. “I love it when you order me around, boss. Just remember, though, that when my year is up, I won’t let you do it ever again.”

  Rowdy stopped and stared after her. It was the first time either of them had mentioned any future beyond this year together. He didn’t have a chance to comment before she was out the door.

  A future with Megan. Was it possible? With the giant elephant in the room called Calhoun Petroleum and her thieving father? Rowdy picked up her computer and his jacket and headed out, locking the trailer behind him. People claimed love could conquer all. Maybe it was true, but he’d never tested it. He put the computer in the backseat and climbed into the truck. He needed to be optimistic. A retirement for his mother. That wasn’t much in Calhoun terms. Surely it could happen. He saw Megan waving at the end of the road, a smile on her face. Damn it, they would make it happen. Together.

  Chapter 17

  “I see you’ve made good progress on well number five.” Rowdy held the papers Megan had printed out about Comstock and was ready to lay down the law.

  “Yep. And got that pond cleaned out like you asked. Smell better to you, Ms. Calhoun?” Clint spit into his tobacco cup.

  “Sure. I’d think everyone working here would appreciate being able to actually take a breath without choking.” Megan just shook her head when Clint laughed.

  “Hell, we get used to it. Isn’t that right, Baker?”

  Rowdy didn’t answer that question. “I see we’re getting more chemicals. Is that for number six?”

  “Sure is. And we’re about ready to order concrete for five. Maybe day after tomorrow. So we can put up the Christmas tree.” Clint smiled proudly. “You can’t say I don’t know how to get things moving.”

  “No, I’d never say that. You’ve been all about speed on this job.” Rowdy sat on the edge of Clint’s desk. “You got a hand who could take over for you if you had to, say, take a trip somewhere?”

  “Why? You got another site that needs my expertise?” Clint took off his hard hat and chuckled. “You don’t say much, but I knew I was impressing you.” He turned to Megan, who still sat in the chair behind his desk. “What do you think, Ms. Calhoun? You letting them know back at Headquarters how this site’s coming together?”

  “You can be sure Headquarters knows all about this site.” Megan had her laptop open. “I was glad to see there haven’t been any more accidents since we arrived.”

  “I had a strong talk with the crew. Let them know I’d lay off the next man who was careless.” He hit that hat against his muddy jeans. “But, Baker, I really don’t want to leave here. I’d like to see a job through to the end, if you know what I mean. It’s important to follow through.” He headed to the door. “Now, if that’s all . . .”

  “Seriously, Stephens, give me a name. I might need for you to turn things over to a qualified hand.” Rowdy was having a hard time keeping his shit together. A “strong talk with the crew”? Hell, most of the accidents were because the supervisor had been cutting corners, too focused on getting the job done fast. God, but he couldn’t wait to kick this man out on his ass.

  “Dave Rodriguez is a good guy. Been around a long time. I suppose he could complete the last two if push came to shove.” Clint stepped closer. “What’s this about, Baker?”

  “It’s about Comstock, Stephens. That name ring a bell?” Rowdy watched the other man quickly school his features, but he hadn’t covered his surprise fast enough.

  “Don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.” Clint dug his tobacco tin out of his back pocket.

  “Playing dumb won’t work here. Though you seem to have a natural aptitude for it.” Rowdy jumped up when Clint tried to throw a punch. Luckily he threw his can of chew instead. It hit the wall and bounced to the floor next to them.

  “Listen, you son of a bitch. I don’t have to take that from nobody, certainly not from an asshole who came out here eager to cave to a prissy environmental agenda. Don’t make it go down any easier that you’re obviously enjoying perks like that fancy RV because you’re fucking a Calhoun daughter.” The supervisor’s face was red.

  Rowdy slammed him back against the door. “You keep your filthy mouth shut about Ms. Calhoun. Got it?”

  “Right. Owners can do whatever they want. It’s always been that way.” He shoved Rowdy away from him. “Now, what’s this about? You claiming I have something to do with Comstock?” He picked up his tobacco tin from the floor. When he stood again, he smiled, showing his stained teeth. “Prove it.”

  “No problem,” Megan said. “This is the paperwork you filed in Nevada setting up your LLC. Then there’s the paper trail that shows you bought the property that you later sold to Sharon Wallace. Minus the mineral rights, of course. You’d already leased those to Calhoun Petroleum the month before.”

  “Okay, you got me. So what?” Clint scowled. “Dumb bitch fell in love with the house. Never asked a thing about what was under the ground. So I outsmarted her.”

  “Yes, you can claim that. But now we’re going to tell you what’s going to happen here.” Megan hit a button on the computer, and the printer in the corner stirred to life.

  “Oh, save it. You think I don’t know? Conflict of interest. Whatever. But I’m here to tell you that you’re going to regret that promise you made Wallace to stop drilling on this property. We’re sitting on a pool of oil. Millions of gallons. You can’t fucking refuse to drill for it. And I’m not going to sit idly by while you screw me over.” He slammed a fist down on the desk that made the computer jump. “No way in hell.”

  “You’ve got no choice, Stephens. We’ve fulfilled the terms of your lease agreement. You can waste you
r time and money suing the company, but it’ll do you no good whatsoever.” Rowdy slapped the papers against his hand.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Clint looked from Rowdy to Megan and back again.

  “You were so busy hiding your connection with the company that you made a mistake when your agent signed that lease with Conrad Calhoun.” Rowdy was looking forward to this part. “I’m surprised an experienced hand like you didn’t look over the lease more carefully. Of course, you were in a hurry. Just like you always are. And you were pushing to be named superintendent on this site at the same time. So you let Calhoun get away with such a long-term deal that you’ll be dead and buried before the terms on this lease expire. Check it out. The wells already here more than satisfy any requirements laid out in your agreement.” Rowdy held out the papers in case Clint wanted to reread his own lease.

  “Get that fucking paper out of my face. What the hell do I care, anyway? I’m already making more money than I know what to do with. You want to fire me? Go ahead. You can take your company policy and cram it up your ass. At least I got to push the rigs through in record time before you caught on.” He spit on the floor, narrowly missing Rowdy’s work boot. “Almost got them finished, too. Shit. Just a couple more days. A week at most.” He gave Megan a hate-filled look. “That’s why I arranged Comstock through my home in Nevada. Took you a while to figure it out, didn’t it, missy?” He threw his hard hat on the floor, where it bounced and came back to hit his own leg. He kicked it aside in a fury.

  “Watch it, Stephens.” Rowdy moved closer to the man.

  “You watch it. And, Ms. High and Mighty Calhoun? You’re right. These well sites smell like shit and are a muddy mess. You think I’m sorry to walk away? Fuck, no. I spent years saving my money, waiting for a chance to make a score like this one. When I heard Conrad Calhoun was out here buying land, I knew my time had come. Hell, little lady, I even arranged to meet your old man to seal the deal.” Clint laughed. “He liked me because I was old school, just like he was. Didn’t give a rat’s ass about some stupid lizard or earthquakes. All he cared about was that I knew how to bring his wells in on time.”