Nora. Diana Palmer

Cal told the other man, climbing down to join his brother on solid ground.

      “You hit a dry hole first time,” Alan reminded him. “Don’t get too optimistic.”

      “It’s my money, son,” Cal reminded him with a cool smile. “Aunt Grace’s money, actually, but I was her favorite and she had a passion for oil. That’s why you and King were left out. She thought I had the touch.”

      “Maybe you do. I hope you don’t run out of money before you hit the big one.”

      “That geologist said the oil is here,” Cal reminded him. “I’d have come three years ago if I’d had the backing, but none of you believed I knew what I was doing. Least of all King. He made his opinion of foolish ventures crystal clear before I left home.”

      “King has mellowed just recently, thanks to Amelia,” Alan mused. “You really will have to come home long enough to meet her. She’s quite a girl.”

      “She must have a backbone of solid steel to cope with our brother,” he said flatly.

      “She threw a carafe at him.”

      Cal’s eyes widened. “At King?”

      “He’s still laughing about it. She’s more than a match for him. One shivers to think what sort of children they’ll have. I want to move away to a safe place before the first one comes along.”

      Cal chuckled. “Well, I’ll be. I thought he was going to marry Darcy, and there were times, mind you, when I thought he deserved to marry her.”

      “Shame on you. I wouldn’t wish such a cold fish on King. Amelia is much more his style.”

      He glanced at Alan curiously. “I had a letter from Mother about her. She thought you were the one with marriage in mind.”

      Alan looked uncomfortable. “I was, when she seemed gentle and in need of protection. After her father’s death, she changed. She was more woman than I could handle.” He smiled ruefully. “I’m not like you and King. I want a gentle, sweet girl, not a warring Valkyrie.”

      “Not me,” Cal said, eyeing the rig. “If I marry, I don’t want a woman I can browbeat. She’ll need to be spirited and adventurous to keep up with the way I want to live. If I strike anything here, I’ll move onto the place and never leave it.”

      “Camp out here, you mean?”

      “Something like that. I don’t need a city woman with snobbish attitudes.”

      “That sounds suspiciously like you’ve met one already.”

      “Who, me? Go home, Alan. You aren’t suited to drilling. You’ll just get in the way. I don’t know why you came.”

      “I’m on my way to Galveston for some fishing. It’s just the second week in September, and I won’t be gang-pressed into roundup by Father until the end of the month at least. I need a break. This was just a stop on the way,” he said, grinning. “I have a train to catch.”

      “When are you coming back?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe after next weekend. Maybe a little later.” He frowned. “I did want to see a man in Baton Rouge about some ranch business as well. Maybe I’ll go on east first, and then double back. I’ll cable you.”

      Cal clapped his brother on the back. “Go carefully, young Alan. We may be oil and water, but we’re family. Never forget.”

      “I won’t.” Alan smiled. “Good luck.”

      “Thanks. I’ll need it.”

      Alan climbed onto his hired horse and waved at Cal as he started back toward Beaumont. Cal watched him with a peculiar sensation in his chest, a feeling of loss. He laughed at his own foolishness and turned back to his chores. He had very little time left before he had to get back to Tyler Junction and the Tremayne ranch. He envied Alan that fishing trip. Drilling for oil was an occupation that was expensive, physically exhausting and not a little dangerous. Just last week, a derrick had toppled on a nearby piece of property, and a prospector had been killed. The dry hole was an occupational hazard as well, and after days of hope for a strike, it was a bitter break. Cal hoped that this next attempt would be more successful. He hated to leave the drilling crew alone, but it couldn’t be helped. He was putting all his spare capital into the venture. He needed what he made as foreman at the ranch to supplement his income.

      Besides, it gave him the opportunity to keep an eye on the family’s massive investment in the Tremayne ranch. He hated spying on Chester, but it couldn’t be helped. As much as the combine had paid to take it over, the Tremaynes stood to lose the most. In these unsafe days, it was better to cover a bet than risk the hand. He had to keep Chester solvent, for the family’s sake as well as Chester’s. If only he could bring the man around to some modern thinking. He’d have to work on that angle when he got back.