Morning Glory (10 page)

Wait a minute, she thought as she cleared the steps over
the fence. What was it that man had called him just before
everything went crazy? Boss? Why would he refer to
Briar as the boss? If that were the truth, what did it
mean? Was Briar the foreman on this rig? No, Cecil had
mentioned he was the foreman and something called a
derrickman. So if he was the boss and owned the company, then why was he working in a lowly position as a
roustabout?

"Oh my." Clara put her hand over her mouth.

Olivia yelled from a few feet back. "Wasn't that the
most exciting thing? Hey, Clara, wait up. I was wondering if you would bring my bicycle home when
Tucker drives you back into town. Cecil is going to take
me home in the company truck. Says it'll be a couple
of hours, but I can go into the shack over there and
clean up. Even offered me a pair of his overalls. Said
they'd be hanging on the nail behind the door."

"A couple of hours? Olivia, you can not stay out here
with all these men for two hours. I've got a better idea.
Tucker can take us over to Tilly's place. She's got extra
clothes and a bathtub"

"I really want to stay and see what happens next,"
Olivia said.

"Think, Olivia. Use your brain for something other
than flirting. Those men are going to be hard at work
for the rest of the day. You'll just be in the way" Clara
motioned for her to climb over the fence.

Olivia sputtered, but she climbed the wooden stairs
over the fence. "But, Clara, he's so cute"

"And you are not so cute right now. You look horrible and there's probably only a wash basin in that
shack. How are you going to get all that out of your hair
in a wash basin? Tucker can give us a ride in the farm
truck over to Tilly's."

"But, but-" Olivia protested even as she followed.

"No buts. If the man likes you he'll come around
when his work is finished," Clara said.

"You're acting like my mother," Olivia grumbled.
Clara could have gladly slapped the girl until her
face was crimson with bruises rather than smudged
brown with oil. "Someone evidently has to guide you.
You'd have a ruined reputation if I didn't help you."

"I'm nineteen years old. I'm grown and I can do
whatever I want," Olivia shot right back. "You were my
age when you were going to run away with that preacher man. No one told you what to do"

Clara's ego was so flat by then she felt like sitting
down and crying. "No, they didn't. I might have been
better off today if they had told me that Percy was a
scoundrel. But no one knew. He was a preacher and
they all have angel wings and haloes."

Olivia shrugged. "Not all men are cruel like that. I
could really like Cecil or even that really cute fellow
they called Danny. When the noise started from way
down deep under the dirt, Danny grabbed me and
hugged me tight. I wanted him to pick me up and run
like Briar did with you. I guess he didn't feel like it was
proper. Is there something going on between you and
Briar? Looked to me like he thought of you first and the
rig second."

"There's nothing going on between us," Clara
insisted.

Tucker looked up from the back porch. "What on
earth?"

"Briar's well came in with force," Clara said.

Tucker bit the inside of his lip to keep from grinning.

"And the force got both of you?" he asked.

Olivia wiped at her face with a dirty hand. "Boy, did
it ever. Briar picked Clara up and tried to outrun it, but
he slipped and fell, and there was Clara all tangled up
in his arms. It was a sight."

"Oh?" Tucker raised a dark eyebrow.

"You may hush," Clara said.

"I didn't say anything but `oh?' " Tucker chuckled.

"You were thinking more and I won't have it. It's your fault anyway for inviting him to dinner," Clara
argued.

"I didn't make you go over there to look at his rig,
did I?"

Clara pointed at Olivia. "No, you did. It's your fault,
too."

Olivia pointed right back at her. "And it's your fault
that I'm not still there, so we're even. Tucker, it was so
exciting, and Cecil offered me the shack to get cleaned
up in. He even said I could wear his overalls, but Clara
said I had to go with her to Tilly's and take a bath"

"Would you please give us a ride? We can ride in the
back of the truck so we won't get the seats dirty," Clara
said.

"Sure, I'll be glad to take you two over there"
Tucker wanted to dance a jig. Maybe Olivia was over
her infatuation with him. He helped the ladies get situated in the back of his pickup truck and drove them to
Tilly's.

"I'll let you ladies out and be on my way. Got a
week's work to get done this afternoon. By the way, did
any of that oil gush over into my cotton?" he asked as
they crawled out of the truck bed and stood in the yard.

"Didn't notice any," Clara said. "To tell the truth I
didn't look at the plants, but I think most of it went
straight up and fell back down on top of the men"

Tilly carefully shut the barn doors, sliding the chain
through the handles and slipping a padlock in the links.
She had heard the truck coming up the lane and figured it was Tucker bringing Clara for the afternoon. She
shielded her eyes from the glaring sun with the back of
her hand and watched the familiar old vehicle clamoring down the rutted pathway from one farm to the other.

Tilly laughed aloud when she saw the mess Clara
and Olivia were in. "Oh my gosh. Who won?"

"Won?" Clara frowned.

Tilly tilted her head to one side and slowly ambled
around the two women. "Won the fight? Which one of
you started it?"

"We didn't fight," Olivia said. "At least, not until
Clara said I couldn't stay in the rig shack and clean up
and wear Cecil's overalls."

"Then she threw you down in the mud and-" Tilly
asked.

Olivia sighed dramatically. "No, then we walked to
Tucker's place and he brought us over here."

"We were at the rig when the gusher came in," Clara
said.

"Oh, so he did find oil. Guess that means we've got
some on our property after all. Tucker, are you still firm
on not leasing?" Tilly leaned against the truck.

"I'll always be firm on that. I'm not having one of
those things on my land. See y'all later." Tucker waved
as he drove away.

"So could we please get cleaned up? I don't want
Cecil to see me like this," Olivia said impatiently.

"He already did," Clara said.

"You know what I mean," Olivia peeled back a strand of hair stuck to her cheek and tucked it behind
her ear.

"Please, Tilly. I'll even clean the bathroom when we
finish," Clara said.

"Have at it, then. The bathroom is already a mess,"
Tilly said.

Before Clara and Olivia could get started toward the
house, another truck bearing the Rose Oil logo turned
up the lane. Briar braked in the exact same spot where
Tucker had been parked. "I just wanted to be sure you
got here all right. Felt bad leaving you standing there in
a puddle of oil, but had to get that thing capped off. Dry
as it is, fire could start" He didn't even look at the other
two women.

"I'm here and I am fine," Clara said curtly. "Olivia,
let's go to the house and get this off. It smells horrible."

"Smells like money to me. Congratulations on hitting oil," Tilly told Briar.

"Thank you. Be on my way then. Just wanted to
make sure Clara was all right. Probably won't be in for
supper tonight. Give Dulcie my regrets" Briar tipped
his dirty hat at the ladies.

"One minute past ten and your things will be on the
porch," Clara told him.

He stopped in his tracks and turned abruptly. "You
sure are some piece of work. I won't be out drinking
moonshine or playing pool. I'll be working."

"And rules are rules," Clara smarted off, angry at herself for even thinking about kissing those lips or
enjoying the feel of him under her.

"Then I'll be there. The guys can take care of whatever needs to be done past that," he said.

"That was hateful," Tilly said when Briar's truck was
nothing but a silhouette beyond a cloud of red dust.

Clara shrugged and trudged off toward the house
where she sat down on the back porch and took off her
shoes and then rolled down ruined stockings. Inside the
screened back porch, she stepped out of a ruined day
dress, a permanently stained white lace camisole and
petticoat. It wasn't until she got to the final layer,
bloomers and a brassiere, that she found clothing that
wouldn't be burned in Tilly's trash barrel.

Olivia followed Clara's example. Shoes and stockings were left on the back porch and soiled clothing
beside the back door. "You really were awful. He was
nice enough to come and check on you"

Tilly came in behind them. "That's Clara most days
since that blasted preacher broke her heart. Come on,
my dear cousin, since you're the one who needs to
clean up your attitude as well as your hide, you can
have the first bath. Olivia, you can bend over the
kitchen sink and I'll go to work on that hair."

"My attitude isn't dirty," Clara argued.

"No, darlin', it is just as sweet as honey," Tilly said
sarcastically. "And if you believe that, then you'll also
believe I'm St. Peter's sister. Briar isn't the devil, you know. He's just a man working for a living, and it's
time you laid down this martyr act and woke up. If you
want to be an old maid, then be one, but don't be cantankerous because you didn't get that big family you
really wanted."

Clara pointed her finger at Tilly. "Don't you preach
at me"

"Don't make me"

"Hey, don't fight," Olivia put in.

"Don't get between cousins, darlin'." Tilly shot
Olivia a mean look.

"Briar is-" Clara started then stopped. What was
Briar?

"Oh, go on upstairs and take a bath. You can figure
out what Briar is while you do it. You sure don't have
to tell me what or who he is. I haven't seen anyone fluster you so much since Tommy Taylor back in the fourth
grade," Tilly said.

Clara ran the deep claw-footed bathtub full and sank
down to her chin in the warm water. Tilly was right. No
one had ever bewildered her like Briar. With Percy,
she'd fancied herself in love and when he proposed,
she'd accepted. Her mother had just died from pneumonia a few months before he arrived and Clara wanted a husband and kids. Percy offered both. Then he
shattered the dream when he disappeared. Somehow,
other than Cyrus down at the pool hall, no other man in
Healdton had enough nerve to approach her after that.
Clara knew Cyrus was just interested in her bank account and property. He'd take on a witch with a
broom and a wart on her nose to get those two things.

She lathered a cloth with soap and began to scrub,
but it couldn't wash away the confusion. Why didn't
she just admit the fact that she was very attracted to
Briar? No, she would not! Besides, even if she did
admit that Briar was attractive, that didn't mean he was
interested in her. For the first time, she wished she was
ten years younger and there had never been a Percy in
her past. But hindsight is the only pure vision in the
world, and it wasn't doing her a bit of good that day.

Every bone in Briar's body ached by the time he
parked his car in front of the Morning Glory Inn.
Tucker's fantastic lunch had long since vanished and
his stomach rumbled with hunger. He could feel the grit
and grime imbedded into his skin and the stench of
sweat and crude oil mixed together in his clothing.
Even more than food, he craved a long, hot, soaking
bath. He checked his watch. Five minutes until ten. At
least he wouldn't be sleeping in his car or the shack out
at the rig.

"So you made it on time. Congratulations," Clara
said from the deep shadows at the corner of the porch.
"It's been a long time since someone waited up for me. Sorry to disappoint you and get here before my curfew. In five more minutes you could have tossed my
belongings out in the yard," he said wearily.

"Oh, hush. Go get cleaned up and I'll make you a
sandwich in the kitchen. You're probably hungry and if
you go fumbling around in there, you'll wake the whole
house with your noise."

"Well, well. Did that oil baptism sweeten up your
attitude?"

"You want to argue or eat?"

"Eat."

"Then go clean up. Bathroom is empty. Towels are
laid out. If you're not in the kitchen in twenty minutes,
you'll go to bed hungry" She padded across the porch
in her bare feet, toes sticking out past the end of a white
nightgown covered with a long pale pink robe.

Briar's breath caught in his chest at the sight of her
with her dark hair hanging down her back in a long,
ropey braid and the pristine robe buttoned up to her
neck. He trudged up the steps one at a time, remembering other times when he was that tired, even if it had
been years before; a time when another woman with
long dark hair had taken his eye. He shook his head,
trying to rid himself of the vivid memories of the wedding of the century on the East Coast. The bride wore
white lace. Briar wore formal black. They'd said their
vows in front of a whole church full of friends. She'd
vowed to love and honor him until death parted them.