Texas Wildcat

He turned his cold mug of beer around in his hand, saying nothing for a moment. “They’re going to let you go on our next call?”

“Yes.”

“What if it’s to South America? Or to the Persian Gulf?”

“I don’t care where it is, Sam. I’ve got to see Blanchard pipe under field conditions. I want to be there in case something happens. I refuse to let one more person be hurt in the field because of our pipe. That’s a promise I made to myself.”

He watched her through hooded eyes. She had backbone. More than most men. “You’re still a woman in a man’s world, Kelly. God, I’d hate to think of the reaction of the Saudis if they saw you over there with us.”

Her emerald eyes flashed with fire. “Since when did God hand out brains just to men and not to women? I’ve been running the eastern region of Blanchard Pipe for the last seven years for my father. I know this business inside out from the regional level. The salesmen I deal with don’t care whether I wear a dress or pants.” That was a lie. But she didn’t care. Sam had picked a sore point with her and she would not apologize for her explosiveness on the topic. “I was born in Texas. I was raised around wildcat wells, roughnecks and this crazy industry of ours. Just because I moved to Pittsburgh when I married, that doesn’t rob me of my knowledge of the oil fields.” Her voice became less strident, more introspective. “My father’s name is solid in this business, Sam. I aim to carry on in the same fine tradition. I won’t have his reputation blackened by anything or anyone. And especially not by some male chauvinists who think that because I’m a woman I’m a harebrained idiot!”

“Hey,” he called softly, catching her startled gaze, “I’m on your side, Kelly. I believe in you. I’m just a little worried about some of the regions we might get called into. We’ll really be roughing it.”

Kelly sat up and squared her shoulders. “I don’t want to sound egotistical, Sam, but if I could survive the last year of my life in one piece, I can survive anything.” Her voice grew husky. “I had a husband who wanted to break me because I didn’t fit his idea of what a woman should be. Gage Wallace was trying to oust my ex-husband from their partnership. And on top of that, my father died a week ago.” Her lips thinned as she looked beyond him, fighting back tears. “Don’t worry about me surviving in the wilderness. That will be a piece of cake compared to everything else that has happened.”

He pulled a white handkerchief from his back pocket and placed it between them. “You know what I like about you?”

Kelly took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “No. According to Todd, no man in his right mind would like anything about me. I’m too assertive. Too headstrong. Too—”

“I happen to applaud all those attributes,” he interrupted, catching the wariness in her eyes. “You’re a Texan. That says it all as far as I’m concerned. Your ex couldn’t have been born here.”

She returned the damp handkerchief. “No, he came from a very rich steel family in Pennsylvania.”

“Any children?”

Kelly shook her head. “No.”

“Every want a family?”

She managed a wry grimace. “Yes, if I can ever find a man who will be happy with me as I am.”

Sam allowed a hint of a smile. She was a woman who knew herself and had been unwilling to accept other people’s assessments of her abilities and talents. Now, she was wary of any male. “Don’t give up on all of us just yet,” he coaxed.

The waitress brought their lunch, interrupting their conversation. Sam was pleased with Kelly’s reaction to the Monk fish.

“It tastes like lobster!” she exclaimed.

“They call it ‘poor man’s lobster.’”

Kelly laughed. “You can’t be exactly poor working for Boots and Coots.”

“No, I’m not. But then, I don’t count happiness in terms of money, either.”

She was pleased with his answer. After barely eating during the last seven days, she was suddenly famished. Sam was right, she acknowledged, she was terribly underweight. Later they lingered over a light wine. Finally Kelly roused herself.

“How are you feeling?”

“The burns? Fine. Another five days and I can get rid of this damn sling.”

“I feel awful about—”

“You’ve apologized already,” he admonished.

Her brows knitted. “I wish it hadn’t happened. Getting burned scares me worse than anything.”

Sam allowed a dry smile. “That’s why you’re not a firefighter and I am.”

“Fire scares me for a lot of reasons,” she admitted.

Sam heard a touch of fear in her voice. “Something happened?”

Kelly nodded. “When I was twelve our house burned, Sam. I can remember waking up in the middle of the night coughing and choking. I could see the red glow outside my bedroom door and I panicked. I remember two firefighters in oxygen masks climbing through a window and finding me hiding in the closet. I was hysterical.”

He drew in a deep breath. “You’re damn lucky you didn’t die of smoke inhalation. That was a close call.”

“Too close,” she agreed. Why was she admitting all her worst fears to him? They talked as if they had been friends for a million years. Who was this man who sat across from her? she wondered. “Tell me about yourself, Sam. Were you born in Texas?”

“Yes, ma’am. Little place in West Texas called Del Rio.”

“And your family?”

“My mother’s still alive. I have two younger sisters.”

“No one else?” Why should she care whether he was married or not? But she did. Unconsciously, Kelly held her breath, waiting for him to answer.

“There used to be,” he admitted with a sigh. He made a grimace. “Unfortunately, Fay couldn’t deal with my life as a firefighter.”

Kelly felt guilty for prying that information out of him. Sam Tyler’s personal life was no business of hers. She shouldn’t have forced him to look back on that kind of agony. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me.”

“That’s all right. I expect a woman like you to ferret out whatever interests her.”

She lifted her chin, meeting, holding his azure gaze. “Tell me,” she asked, “are you always so gentle with people who have hoof-and-mouth disease?”

A grin crept back onto his face. “With most people, I am. Why?”

She gave a small shrug. “I wish I had some of your patience and understanding of people. You had every right to tell me to mind my own business.”

Sam took the check, pulled out his credit card and handed them both to the waitress. A glimmer of humor remained in the depths of his eyes. “Well, you’re bound to find out sooner or later anyway.”

Perplexed, Kelly asked, “What are you talking about?”

Sam signed the credit card receipt and thanked the waitress. He returned his attention to her. “Anyone ever connected with me knows I have a decided weakness for redheads. I love redheaded women.”

She stared blankly at him for a long moment. Then her lips thinned. “Is that a statement or a challenge?”

Sam grasped her elbow and helped her to stand. He guided her noiselessly out of the restaurant. Despite the large roughout boots he wore, he made no sound on the tiled floor. “Take it any way you want, Kelly Blanchard,” he taunted, his mouth near her ear.

Kelly shivered inwardly at the purr in his voice. She pulled her elbow from his grasp, giving him a sharp glance. “Why do I have the feeling you’re the cat and I’m the mouse?”