just finished up with the report on Well Number 561. Kelly Blanchard called and said she wanted to read the report as soon as possible. You mind driving by the Royden Oaks section and dropping this off to her on your way home?”
Sam reached over for the report. “Royden Oaks, huh? That’s the richest part of Houston.”
“Yeah. Guess the little gal flew down from Pittsburgh when her father died. She’s staying at his house.” Boots pushed his thinning blond hair off his broad forehead. “What’d she have to say about the pipe failing?”
Sam wanted to convey her genuine apology. He had silently applauded her courage. There were few women he knew who could handle the death of a loved one and then go to work and keep a multimillion-dollar company afloat. “She’s concerned, Boots. And she wants to get to the bottom of the problem.”
Boots gave a sigh. “We can’t have it happen again, Sam. We’re gonna have to go somewhere else to buy pipe. I already have five different pipe companies crying to come over and sell us their wares. I feel bad about this. Blanchard was a good-hearted guy and we’ve bought their pipe for years. Damn,” he said, rising. “It doesn’t make sense, Sam. That pipe’s withstood the Canadian winters at sixty below and been tested in the Persian Gulf where it’s a hundred and fifteen degrees in the damn shade.” He scratched his head. “Coots and I are going to have a meeting with her tomorrow morning and give her the bad news.” He shook his head in a mournful gesture. “Get going, son, you’re looking like hell. What you need is two days’ worth of sleep. Tomorrow’s Friday, so don’t bother coming in. We’ll see you Monday unless we’re called in on something big.”
Sam rose. “Okay, I’ll see you Monday.”
* * *
The sun was dipping closer to the western horizon as he drove down the freeway toward the Royden Oaks section of Houston. Sam never tired of the Houston skyline which rose dramatically into the vivid blue Texas sky. Many of the buildings were covered with reflective glass, giving the city a magical quality. It was a city of mirrors. His thoughts switched to Kelly Blanchard. One look at her exhausted features had made him wince inwardly. He felt guilty about barging in and lashing out at her in anger. But he had acted out of frustration over Slim getting injured. Before reaching the Royden Oaks area, he stopped at a florist shop and bought flowers.
Kelly had just finished a hot bath and slipped into a floor-length muslin robe of pale pink when the doorbell sounded. The bell rang hollowly through the depths of the large, silent house. She had taken the guest bedroom on the first floor, not wanting to sleep upstairs in her father’s bedroom. Padding barefooted down the long tiled hall, Kelly opened the door. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Sam Tyler standing there with a bouquet of delicate violets in his large hand. He smiled at her hesitantly.
“Here,” he said, giving them to her, “these are for you. A peace offering for the way I behaved earlier. And here’s that report you asked to see. There are a couple of things Coots wanted me to point out to you before I left.”
Her lips parted as she took the lovely violets and the report. “Thank you,” she whispered, inhaling the fragrance of the flowers. “Please, come in. You look awfully tired.”
Sam managed a smile. “You, on the other hand, look better than when I first met you.”
Kelly returned his warm smile, her depressed spirits suddenly buoyed by his presence. “A bath can do wonders, believe me.” She smelled the flowers one more time after shutting the door. The memory of Wallace’s bouquet came back sharply. With Wallace, there was always an angle, an ulterior motive for everything he did. Looking at Sam Tyler’s broad shoulders and massive back as he walked in front of her, she couldn’t imagine him being like that.
“Come to the study, Sam,” she invited. “I’m afraid I’m still learning the layout of Dad’s house. He bought it after I left Houston, you see. I get lost in it when I’m not concentrating on where I’m going.”
Sam gazed appreciatively around the study. It was a huge library filled with leather-bound books, Oriental rugs and expensive antique furniture. He settled on the couch. “It’s quite a place,” he agreed. “Will you be staying here from now on?” It was a thoroughly personal question and one that he probably shouldn’t have asked. Sam noted she wore no wedding ring on her left hand. She turned to him, lifting her shoulders. “I don’t honestly know yet. Would you like a drink?”
“Yes.”
“How about some whiskey?”
He watched as she walked to the liquor cabinet. There was a wonderful gazellelike grace to her walk. He would never tire of watching her. Her dark auburn hair lay thickly on her shoulders, the red highlights glinting like molten fire. “Why whiskey?”
“You looked as though you could handle it,” Kelly remarked.
“Oh?”
“You’re the rugged outdoors type of man.” She gave him a shy look, as if she realized her remark was too personal for the circumstances. “You look as if you could handle anything or anyone.”
Sam stood and walked over to her. He reached out and took the tumbler from her. Their fingers met for only an instant but he was aware of a pleasant sensation as he touched her flesh. “I damn near blew up at you today,” he murmured, “and I apologize. That’s what the flowers are for. Boots told me you flew in as soon as your father died and began running his company.” He lifted his glass in salute to her as she sat down near him on the couch. “Here’s to a lady with courage when it counts.”
Kelly felt heat racing up from her neck to her face. She took a sip of wine, wishing she could steady the sudden pounding of her heart. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared over at Sam. He was being so kind, and she’d gone through so much this week.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. But the tears came anyway and she put the drink down on the coffee table. Her insides were quaking and she wanted to release the backlog of grief she had held in abeyance since the funeral. Her vision blurred as she sat there with both hands against her cheeks. Her lashes were thick with tears. Embarrassed, Kelly rose. “I…I…can’t talk just now…”
He was on his feet in one fluid motion, a huge cat uncoiling from his resting position. Kelly felt the natural warmth of his body as he placed his good arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. His work-roughened hand slid across the muslin, creating a tingling sensation in her flesh. The tender look on his face only increased her need to be held. A small cry escaped from her as she buried her face against his barrellike chest.
“It’s all right,” Sam whispered against her ear. “I’ll just hold you, honey. Go ahead and cry.” She was warm, curving perfectly against the more angular planes of his body. Sam inhaled the fresh, sweet fragrance of her silken hair as he rested his jaw lightly against her head. He felt her body shake with sobs and his grip tightened around her. He wished he had use of his right arm so he could cradle her protectively in his embrace.
The textured weave of the coveralls pressed against Kelly’s cheek as she leaned her head on his chest. His gentle voice encouraged her to vent the grief. He was a stranger. And yet, her heart opened to him like a flower to the rays of the sun. There were no recriminations from Sam Tyler for her unexpected tears. Somehow, Kelly sensed Sam would take this in stride without being embarrassed. Finally, the tears lessened. She remained against him, aware, for the first time, of the drum beat of his heart. It was a soothing sound and Kelly shut her eyes tightly, needing the strength he was giving her.
“Better?” he inquired in a hushed tone, his mouth against her hair.
She gave a convulsive nod of her head, wanting, needing his arm around her body for just one more moment. She felt his fingers tighten momentarily on her shoulder, and unconsciously she nuzzled against his chest.
“Come on,” he urged, “let’s sit down.”
She sniffed. Lifting her eyes, she met Sam’s eyes. His blue gaze held a tender light in its depth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled,