Chapter 8
?^?
The following Saturday morning Jace asked Katherine if she wanted to drive out to the drilling site with him.
"I've put the crew on overtime. I'd like to run out there and check on things. It shouldn't take long. Would you like to go?"
The past week had been a welcomed relief from Katherine's normal early morning routine. Getting Allison bathed, fed, dressed, and carried to Happy's house before leaving for work was a dreaded task. Katherine had enjoyed these unexpected mornings off.
She managed to keep busy, rearranging closets and drawers, making room for the new resident in her house.
Toward the end of the week she ran out of projects and was growing restless. Having worked most of her life, idleness was far more tiring to her than labor.
"Yes, I'd like that," she said in response to Jace's invitation. "I've never been near an oil derrick before." Listening to him talk about his work had broadened her vocabulary.
"Well, I've been getting a lot of flack from the crew," he complained. "They think you're a figment of my imagination. They're not going to believe that I do indeed have a wife and baby daughter until I present you to them. Of course, Jim Cooper has been singing your praises to the sky, but no one puts much stock in that besotted kid."
She glanced at him in irritation, but it pleased her to know that he had mentioned her to the men he worked with. Why it pleased her, she didn't stop to examine. A warm sensation surrounded her heart as she looked at him across the breakfast table – a breakfast he had insisted on cooking.
She asked with feigned nonchalance, "What did you tell them about me?"
"Let's see. If I recall," – he drawled and squinted his eyes in deep concentration – "I told them that you had hair the color of honey with sunlight shining through it. Your eyes, I described as deep forest pools with overhead trees reflected in them. I told them that your body was beyond description, except to say that your bosom was of unbelievable proportions. Of course, you never wear any underwear even under the tight T-shirts and supertight jeans you prefer."
"Jace! You could- n't—" she cried before she caught the mischievous glint in his eyes. When he burst out laughing at her chagrin, she couldn't help but join in. Allison gazed at them both in bored condescension.
"I'm afraid if that's how you described me, they'll be sorely disap- pointed."
His black brows hooded his eyes as he said softly, "No. They won't be disappointed."
Her heart did a somersault. Not since the morning when he had kissed her in the bathroom had he made any overt advances. She knew by now that aggression wasn't his style. He conquered with subtlety. All week his kisses had amounted to no more than affectionate pecks on the cheek or forehead. She found it disconcerting that somehow his restraint made her long for his touch.
One evening he had asked her to join him on the sofa to watch the late news on television. She settled herself at the opposite end of the sofa, but he said, "Un-uh," and drew her closer to him. He was leaning back comfortably in the other corner, propped up on cushions.
She tucked bare feet under her light robe and in minutes realized that she had allowed herself to relax against him. She felt his steady breathing as his hard chest supported her back.
She started when he began stroking her upper arm with the hand that had been resting on the back of the sofa. She glanced at him quickly, but he was seemingly preoc- cupied with the newscast.
His motion was slow and hypnotic, tickling the inside of her arm with sensuous strokes. The strong tapering fingers imperceptively moved closer to her breast. She could feel their movements on the soft curve without his actually touching it. The fabric of her robe stirred against his knuckles, so close was he to touching her. But he did not.
Her nipple became erect with longing and there was a heavy warmth in the lower part of her body. By the end of the broadcast, she was tempted to capture his hand and press it to her. His fingers finally stilled and Katherine held her breath. Now he'll touch me, she thought.
To her intense disappointment he patted her arm in a filial fashion and eased her up. "I guess I'd better get to bed," he said.
That night her body had tingled with unsatisfied sensations as she tossed restlessly on her narrow bed. Had he invited her onto the new king-size bed, she would have accepted gladly. Was this then his particular form of cruelty?
Peter had charmed Mary into loving him and then tortured her with physical and verbal abuse. Was Jace's method different only in that he tortured with a silken touch? Was he planning to make her care for him, only to torment her with rejection?
She resolved not to care. Falling in love with Jace Manning would be a slow kind of death, for she knew that he didn't love her. He wanted her physically. His constraint hadn't dissolved his desire. It was evident in his kindling blue eyes that she often caught staring at her.
But his reasons for marrying her had been explicitly enumerated. He was compensating for Peter's treatment of Mary. He was fulfilling a responsibility he felt for Allison. He had even said that he didn't want to get married, and, that by doing so, he was sacrificing his freedom.
As Jace had predicted, his lawyer friend, Mark, sent them a newspaper clipping announcing their marriage. With uncanny clairvoyance Jace had been correct about his parents' reversal. The article quoted them as saying that Jace and Katherine had developed a deep attachment soon after they met (when was that to have been?), and, as Jace's parents, they were thrilled that he had married sweet Mary's sister.
Katherine had been furious when she read it. Jace only shrugged and tossed the clipping in the wastepaper basket. Maybe he wasn't as contemptuous of his parents as he pretended. Did he have an affinity for them that he concealed when it was expedient to do so? Like when convincing someone it would be to her advantage to marry him?
Now, as Katherine looked at his beguiling smile across the table, she warned herself again to be careful with her emotions.
"I'll get Allison dressed, and we can go whenever you like," she said.
* * *
They drove through the east Texas countryside for about half an hour. Katherine enjoyed the scenery. The woods were thick with pine, cedar, native oaks, and elm. Now and then she glimpsed the graceful dogwood. In the spring it, with its glorious white or pink blossoms, would shame the towering giants that dwarfed it.
The country road narrowed and dwindled to little more than a pothole-rid- den trail. The jeep bounced over the road, jarring their teeth and preventing conversation. Katherine clutched Allison to her, fearful that the baby would fly out of her arms when they hit a large bump.
Jace turned off the road and struck out across the pine-tree-dotted field that was somewhat more level. As they came to a clearing, the drilling rig came into view. Katherine was amazed by the activity and noise. The equipment required for the project was awesome.
Several of the crew stopped their work for a moment to wave to Jace as he bounded out of the jeep. He directed Katherine to stay put. He jogged to a disreputable- looking trailer whose peeling, faded gray paint was its most redeeming feature. Moments later Jace emerged wearing a hard hat and carrying another.
He shouted over the noise, "Here, put this on."
Katherine looked at the bright yellow helmet skeptically.
"Sorry. Mr. Manning's rules." He winked at her and plopped the hard hat on her head. He took Allison in his arms and carried her toward the trailer.
Katherine self- consciously climbed out of the jeep carrying her purse and Allison's diaper bag. She could feel the furtive glances directed toward her, though the roughnecks continued working with deliberation. She did- n't try to distinguish Jim Cooper. The workmen had taken on the anonymity of an array. Were her jeans too tight, she wondered in panic, remembering what Jace had told her earlier.
The hard hat seemed like a ridiculously unnecessary precaution, but Jace had often referred to the strict rules he enforced at any site he worked on.
"Back in the thirties during the big boom in Texas men needed jobs desperately. They found work in the oil fields whether they were qualified or not. The wildcatters who hired them for peanuts didn't care about the danger involved. They were only glad to have a supply of cheap labor.
"It wasn't until later that safety regulations were put into effect. Unfortunately, many men were killed or seriously injured in unnecessary accidents. There's always the risk of having an accident around any derrick, but I try to lower the odds of one happening by enforcing as many safety precautions as possible." Apparently even his wife wasn't exempt.
Jace now stood on the steps of the trailer and held the door for Katherine. When she glanced up at him, he smiled broadly. One would actually think he was proud of me, she thought.
"Katherine, meet Billy Jenkins. He's mean and grouchy, bullheaded, coarse, and totally without scruples, but we're used to him."
Katherine took off the hard hat and looked at the man Jace had introduced to her in that unorthodox way. Billy was older than the other men. She wondered if Jace had assigned him duties in the trailer in deference to his age.
Billy's sparse hair was gray and frizzy. His complexion was like a piece of dry, brown leather stretched over his facial bones. Deep lines etched his face like a roadmap. Bowed legs and a stocky torso made him appear even shorter in stature than he was.
He looked Katherine up and down several times. His perusal wasn't lewd, just appreciative. "I want to know how a sweet, pretty little thing like you got hitched up with a goddamn slant-holer like him." He indicated Jace with an impertinent jerk of his small, round head.
The insult referred to someone who drilled diagonally into another well. During the boom, this was a heinous crime, and the culprit was considered to be the lowest of creatures.
From behind her Katherine heard Jace's deep, rumbling chuckle. "Are you just going to stand there insulting me, or are you going to get us something to drink?"
"Get it your own self. I want to see the baby."
Katherine knew the source of their bantering was a mutual affection. Billy stepped up to Jace and took Allison out of his arms. The baby immediately reached for the red handkerchief in Billy's shirt pocket and the old man laughed gleefully.
"That's a girl. You know who your friends are, don't you? You stick with old Billy, and you'll have fun. Yes, you will. Let's go over here and see something pretty." Billy carried the mesmerized Allison to his littered desk, speaking to her in dulcet tones.
Katherine and Jace laughed. "No- thing will make a fool out of someone as quickly as a baby," Jace said. He looked down at Katherine and winked. "Except maybe a beautiful woman. I thought I might be forced to defend your honor when Billy got a good look at you."
"I was flattered," she smiled. "I think he's a perfect gentleman," she said primly.
"What! That old reprobate? You glare at me every time I use language like he just did."
"Yes, but that's different."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not married to him. I'm married to you."
He looked at her sternly, though the corners of his mouth twitched with suppressed mirth. "That's right and don't you ever forget it," he growled.
They both laughed, and, impulsively, he reached out and hugged her close. Katherine was still breathless from the quick, tight embrace when he opened a rusted refrigerator and took out two cold drinks. Allison was happy sitting in Billy's lap and basking in his ardent attention.
"Come over here," Jace said. "I want to make you a proposition." He gestured to a desk at the end of the trailer.
She followed him through the narrow confines, and he offered her the chair behind the desk. By comparison, it made Billy's desk look neat. It was covered with charts, maps, and diagrams. She could only guess at what they represented, but was curious as to the proposition he had mentioned.
He reached over her shoulder and picked up a sheet of paper. Katherine supposed that some sort of message could be deci- phered from the bold, slanted scrawl. "I got this memo from Willoughby. He's the owner of Sunglow. I've referred to him." At her nod, he went on.
"It seems that Willoughby is concerned about the current reputation of the oil companies. Windfall profits and all that. He's resolved to do something about Sunglow's public image. He managed to swing a deal with several television stations in the larger markets of Texas and Oklahoma – Houston, Dallas, Fort Worth, Austin, Oklahoma City among others. Sunglow will provide maintenance service and gasoline for all their news cars, mobile units, and the like in exchange for commercial time."
He took a drink of his soda and asked, "Are you following? Feel free to interrupt. It took me a while to digest it."
"Yes, I follow you, but—"
"Here comes the part that involves you. He needs someone to write the commercials. I recommended you."
Katherine stared up at him stunned. "Me!" she shrieked. "Jace, I don't know anything about—"
"Oil? You don't have to. What Willoughby wants is public-service-type commercials taken from the consumer's point of view. He wants to put forth the idea that Sunglow is concerned about the energy situation and is taking steps to rectify it and at the same time keep a tight rein on the price of gasoline. We need our reputation improved. You've had experience in public relations. You've written press releases. This'll be a snap."
"Is Sunglow really doing that though? I couldn't lie."
He looked almost pained before saying, "Katherine, I wouldn't ask you to lie. Do you think I'd be affiliated with a company that was fleecing the public?"
She looked away from him. "No." She gnawed the inside of her cheek, trying to think. It was such a fantastic opportunity! She could barely contain her excitement, yet, at the same time, there was so much to consider.
"I don't think I could work here," she mused aloud.
He laughed. "I should say not! I wouldn't allow you to be ogled all day by that wild bunch out there! No way. I already have to face the fact that Cooper has the hots for you." He moved to face her, leaning against the desk and crossing his ankles stretched out in front of him. By his wide smile she knew he was only teasing her about Jim.
"What I had in mind," he continued, "was for you to work at home. I honestly feel that you should be at home with Allison during this critical time in her development. But I fully understand your need to work. You could set your own hours, work when you wanted to, but be there with her all day. How does that sound?"
"It would be wonderful, Jace. I worried about being away from her so much too, before ... well, before we married."
"Great. Then it's all settled."
"Wait! Let me think a minute." In concentration she tapped her index finger against pursed lips. "Wouldn't I have to work closely with the production crews?"
"Very good question. A television station in Houston is supplying us with production facilities. They'll do all the dirty work after you turn over the scripts. If they should need you, they can always call. Or if necessary, you could take the company plane down there for a day or two."
"Oh, Jace, it sounds too good to be true."
"It's only a matter of your wanting to do it. I know you're qualified." He stroked her cheek gently and smiled at her confidently. "Shall I call Willoughby and tell him he's got a new employee?"
She hesitated only an instant then clapped her hands. "Yes, Yes!"