TOO HOT TO HANDLE!

A blowout in the oil fields was bad news for everyone—a loss of time and money for the owners, day and night danger for the men who fought valiantly to cap the raging flames.

Sam Tyler was one of those men, cool-headed in the midst of bedlam, unafraid even when he risked everything in the fight against the towering column of smoke and fire. But when an accident in the oil fields sent him storming into Kelly Blanchard’s office, he learned there was one kind of fire even he wasn’t equipped to handle.

Texas Wildcat

Western Lovers™

Lindsay McKenna

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedicated to Boots Hansen and Coots Matthews, blowout specialists, who are genuine Texas heroes in the finest sense. And to Alvin Moody, whose knowledge and friends provided further insights into the Texas gas and oil industry, and Jeanne Long, surely a Texan at heart, for her friendship, creative ideas and enthusiasm.

A LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR

Dear Reader,

My good friend Jeanne Long invited me down for a week to Houston, where I was wined, dined and shown everything “Texas-style,” which, to say the least, was bigger than big.

At one of the parties I attended I met Boots Hansen and Coots Matthews, oil-well-fire “blowout” specialists. They’d worked with Red Adair, the original granddaddy who had figured out how to snuff out oil-well fires, and eventually formed their own company, Boots and Coots of Houston, Texas.

I had such a great time with these two Texas wildcats that they invited me over to their company to show me videos of blowouts they’d extinguished around the world. They showed me a royal good time at their facility, and being a volunteer firefighter for West Point, Ohio, I understood what they did, how they did it and how dangerous their job really was.

So, with their technical help and guidance, Texas Wildcat was born in Houston, Texas, at a Texas-size party with Texas-size men and women-all larger than life. I hope that you enjoy reading Texas Wildcat as much as I did writing it, and as much as I enjoyed the people who inspired me to create this novel.

Dear Reader,

I don’t know about you, but I thought running my late father’s company, a Texas one at that, was an awful lot of work and responsibility. Plus, my father really hadn’t wanted me nosing around in what had made him a millionaire. Daddy thought a woman’s place was anywhere but the office, but being a Texan by birth, I felt it my duty to know his business.

It was a good thing I did, because when he died unexpectedly, the whole company fell on my shoulders. And when Sam Tyler, the number-three man in the company, came marching into my office accusing my company of making shoddy equipment-well, there was a Texas-size blowout right then and there!

Sam Tyler is a typical arrogant Texan-he knows he’s not only good-looking but he’s the best at his job. I wanted to hate him on sight for accusing my recently deceased daddy of making bad equipment that put two of Sam’s men in the hospital.

Sam met his match in me. I’m no out-of-stater come to live in Texas. I was born here! And Texas women have a backbone of steel, even though we have that sweet, sugary Southern diplomacy, too. We’re called steel magnolias. He called me a Texas Wildcat. To tell you the truth, Sam is terribly good-looking and I really liked him the instant our eyes met. There was something so proud and strong and capable in him. Little did I realize that my own stiff-necked, hot-tempered ways would get me into more trouble than a Texas frog strangler!

Kelly Blanchard

Ranch Rogues

1. Betrayed by Love

Diana Palmer

2. Blue Sage

Anne Stuart

3. Chase the Clouds

Lindsay McKenna

4. Mustang Man

Lee Magner

5. Painted Sunsets

Rebecca Flanders

6. Carved in Stone

Kathleen Eagle

Hitched in Haste

7. A Marriage of Convenience

Doreen Owens Malek

8. Where Angels Fear

Ginna Gray

9. Inheritance

Joleen Daniels

10. The Hawk and the Honey

Dixie Browning

11. Wild Horse Canyon

Elizabeth August

12. Someone Waiting

Joan Hohl

Ranchin’ Dads

13. Rancher’s Wife

Anne Marie Winston

14. His and Hers

Pamela Bauer

15. The Best Things in Life

Rita Clay Estrada

16. All That Matters

Judith Duncan

17. One Man’s Folly

Cathy Gillen Thacker

18. Sagebrush and Sunshine

Margot Dalton

Denim & Diamonds

19. Moonbeams Aplenty

Mary Lynn Baxter

20. A Home on the Range

Judith Bowen

21. The Fairy Tale Girl

Ann Major

22. Snow Bird

Lass Small

23. The Countess and the Cowboy

Linda Randall Wisdom

24. Heart of Ice

Diana Palmer

Kids & Kin

25. Fools Rush In

Ginna Gray

26. Wellspring

Curtiss Ann Matlock

27. Live-In Mom

Laurie Paige

28. Kids, Critters and Cupid

Ruth Jean Dale

29. With No Regrets

Lisa Jackson

30. Family Affair

Cathy Gillen Thacker

Reunited Hearts

31. Yesterday’s Lies

Lisa Jackson

32. The Texas Way

Jan Freed

33. Wild Lady

Ann Major

34. Cody Daniels’ Return

Marilyn Pappano

35. All Things Considered

Debbie Macomber

36. Return to Yesterday

Annette Broadrick

Reckless Renegades

37. Ambushed

Patricia Rosemoor

38. West of the Sun

Lynn Erickson

39. Bittersweet

DeLoras Scott

40. A Deadly Breed

Caroline Burnes

41. Desperado

Helen Conrad

42. Heart of the Eagle

Lindsay McKenna

Once A Cowboy…

43. Rancho Diablo

Anne Stuart

44. Big Sky Country

Jackie Merritt

45. A Family to Cherish

Cathy Gillen Thacker

46. Texas Wildcat

Lindsay McKenna

47. Not Part of the Bargain

Susan Fox

48. Destiny’s Child

Ann Major

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

One

“All hell’s broken loose, Kelly!”

Kelly tiredly raised her head. She stared blankly at Jake for a moment. Her office manager’s face was drawn. Her heart plummeted. What now? she wondered miserably. What else could go wrong? Brushing an auburn strand of hair away from her forehead, she sat up a little straighter in the huge leather chair.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice sounded tired and strained after the events of the past week.

Jake grimaced, giving a sorrowful shake of his head. “Boots and Coots’s office just called. Two of our monitor pipes blew up on them.”

“Oh, no!” Kelly groaned, slumping back into the chair. “How? I mean…”

Jake came inside the door and shut it softly behind him. “They’re sending Sam Tyler over to tell us about it.”

She frowned, pushing aside the mountain of paperwork. “Who’s he?”

“Number three man in the outfit, that’s who. They’re angry, Kelly. We’re gonna lose the account.”

Kelly made an agitated gesture, then got to her feet. “Dad never made bad pipe. What’s going on, Jake? I don’t understand it,” she muttered, walking around the large square desk. She fought back tears of remembrance. Tears of grief. Only a week ago her father, a Texas wildcatter as well as the president of Blanchard Pipe, had been sitting in his office. Now, he was dead. Dead because of a senseless automobile accident. A drunk driver had ended the life of the person she loved more than anyone in the world. Kelly’s green eyes narrowed with pain as she stared over at Jake. She chastised herself for not knowing more of her father’s business. Now, it was up to her to run the multimillion-dollar company, which made a variety of pipe for the oil and gas industry around the world.

Placing a slender hand on her brow, she massaged her temples. She had to think coherently regardless of the circumstances. Boots and Coots were one of their major buyers. They used Blanchard pipe at oil and gas well blowouts to spray water on the raging inferno while their men worked to put the fire out.

“Who spoke to you, Jake?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Boots Hansen did.”

“What happened?”

Jake released a heavy sigh. Coots Matthews and Sam Tyler were up on a call in Canada. They trucked in a load of our pipe for the job. Their men had set up the unmanned water monitors close to the gas fire to protect the crew working beneath it. When Sam went in to help with the welding on the blowout preventer our pipe failed on two out of the six water monitors.” Jake shook his head, stealing a glance over at Kelly. “That type of fire can reach temperatures of twenty-two hundred degrees Fahrenheit. A heavy water fog pattern is used so the men can work at the mouth of the well.”

Kelly’s full lips thinned. “Don’t tell me they were injured?”

“’Fraid so, Kelly. They put Slim Hudson in a burn unit up in Canada. Tyler was burned too, but apparently not as badly. The team just landed at the airport and he’s on his way over here right now.”

It was far more serious than she had first thought. Blanchard pipe was designed to withstand thousands of pounds of water pressure hurtling through it for months on end without failure. This was the third time within a month that their pipe had buckled during a critical phase. Word was getting around. The business her father had started twenty years ago was in danger of failing because of it.

Tears glittered in Kelly’s green eyes as she lifted her chin. “Okay, Jake, bring Mr. Tyler to me when he gets here. I want to deal with this one personally. Boots and Coots have been good customers for too long. This has to be investigated.”

“Man, you’re telling me. I feel bad about this one.”

“Is Slim going to be all right?”

Jake managed a sliver of a smile. “You know Texans, Kelly. We’re all tougher than horseshoe nails. Yeah, he’ll make it.”

“Have Susan get more information. I want to know when they’ll transfer Slim back to Houston,” Kelly ordered.

Walking dejectedly back to the leather chair, Kelly stared at the floor. Normally, her shoulders were straight and proud. Today they slumped. The guilt bore down on her. Why hadn’t she gotten more involved in her father’s business this last year before his death? The answer was simple: her crumbling marriage had finally fallen apart. This past year she had been picking up the bits and pieces of her psyche and she had thought it best not to return to the business world full time until she had her life under control.

Todd, her ex-husband, had always opposed her working. He wanted no wife of his to be a corporate executive. Kelly had relinquished her position as vice-president when she left Houston to marry, but she had insisted on helping her father as a regional director. Her involvement with the business had led to one horrible argument after another. After five years of quarrels, Kelly had given up on the faltering marriage, unwilling to suffocate beneath Todd’s restrictions. But she was still suffering from the effects of the divorce.

Before she had time to consider all those effects, the door of her office was jerked open. Kelly’s eyes widened as she met the angry blue gaze directed at her. She froze, fingers resting on the desk, facing her adversary. He wore the white coveralls that were synonymous with Boots and Coots Company. Over the left pocket was the name, Sam, in blue embroidery. Kelly’s heart leaped. He wasn’t a huge man, but the animal power within him took her breath away. She had never met him before, yet her senses were instantly affected by him. His blue eyes narrowed on her. The face, darkly tanned by the Texas sun, was square, the jaw uncompromising. His black hair was neatly trimmed and hidden beneath a white baseball cap with the Boots and Coots symbol upon it. Involuntarily, Kelly took a step back, her legs brushing against the chair. If it weren’t for his mouth, she would have been completely intimidated by him. But it was a kind mouth, though it was drawn now into a thin line.

“I’m Sam Tyler. Where’s Blanchard?” he ground out. Sam Tyler was feeling irritated with the fact that his left arm had to remain in a sling for the next week. He glared at the woman in front of him. “We’ve got a score to settle with him.” He halted at the desk and unceremoniously dropped a piece of aluminum pipe on it. “Blanchard integrity!” he snarled. “Take a look, honey. The old man’s company can go to hell for this,” he continued, jabbing his square index finger down at the pipe. One end was blown completely apart, its normally smooth exterior now jagged, razor sharp splinters.

The smarting pain of the burns on his shoulder and upper arm fueled Sam’s anger. The woman standing before him appeared as tired as he felt. Her eyes were the color of dark emeralds. Was she Blanchard’s secretary? Despite the pallor of her face and the darkness beneath her large eyes, she was damn good looking. Sam squelched those thoughts. “Where is the old—”

“Dead.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? I just talked to him two weeks ago.”

Kelly’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I said he’s dead. Does that compute? He was killed last week in an automobile accident.”

Sam swallowed his anger. A frown formed on his forehead and he reached up, taking off the cap. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Then who are you? His secretary?”

“I’m his daughter, Mr. Tyler. Look,” she began, in a strained voice, “sit down. I’ll have Susan bring us some coffee. I just heard about the pipe blowing. I need more information.”

Sam’s mouth softened and he took a step back. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice losing its hard edge. “I guess we could both use a cup of coffee.”

Kelly tried to still her racing heart. This man was a stranger to her, so why was she responding to him so strongly? I must be closer to exhaustion than I thought. She had to get some sleep soon or…Kelly brushed her thoughts aside and called Susan to bring coffee. Sam had seated himself in the chair before her desk. Her gaze settled on his heavily bandaged left arm and the sling.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Jake told me you and Slim got burned.” She regarded him gravely. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

Running his strong-looking fingers through his dark hair, Sam held her gaze. In that instant she looked so damned fragile; a china doll that had been fractured. The anger he had carried all the way home on the plane dissipated. He judged her height around five feet nine. Thick, auburn hair tumbled in graceful abandon around her shoulders, barely brushing her breasts. The simple black dress with its white collar and french cuffs increased her look of vulnerability. Her complexion appeared washed out. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he continued to study her. Why hadn’t he seen her around Houston? Where had Blanchard been hiding his daughter? She appeared to be almost ethereal. At that moment he wanted to reach out and touch her to see if she was real. Would she disappear like a cloud on a scorching Texas day?

“I shouldn’t have come barging in here like a steam roller, either,” he apologized. “It’s just that we’re all pretty upset by Slim’s injury.”

Susan entered, interrupting the tense conversation. With their respective cups of coffee in hand, they waited until the secretary left the office. Kelly walked over to the desk and sat down. “You had every right to be angry, Mr….”

“Call me Sam,” he insisted.

It would be easy to call him by his first name.

The sudden warmth in his voice eased the tension between them. “Let’s discuss your problem with the pipe,” she suggested, pulling over a notebook and a pencil. “Can you tell me what led up to the pipe’s failure?”

Sam hesitated, sensing her utter exhaustion. “Look,” he began on a more conciliatory note, “you don’t need this right on top of your father’s death. I could speak to Jake. We’ve dealt with him quite a bit in the past.”

Kelly shook her head. “No,” she returned, a smile pulling at one corner of her mouth, “I need to be kept busy right now.” The smile disappeared as she stared over at the pipe. “And this incident has top priority.” She was thankful her father wasn’t here to witness this. His pride in producing a quality product was well known; this would have broken his heart.

Sam leaned forward, resting his one elbow on his long thigh. “You’re taking over his business, then?”

“Yes.”

Sam nodded. She had guts. He liked the fire he saw flickering in the depths of her wide, transparent eyes. “Okay,” he agreed, “let me fill you in on the details of the pipe blowing, then.”

“Fine. Start at the top, Sam.”

He leaned back, feeling the dull pain from the second-degree burns across his right shoulder and upper arm. He disdained pain-killers because he didn’t want the loss of alertness they caused. “We got a call to cap a Canadian gas well up in the province of Alberta. Coots was available and the three of us flew up.”

“And the pipe?”

“Trucked in. It took Pete four days to make the drive.”

Kelly nodded. It was August and it must have been warm even up in Canada at the time. “Do you remember the temperature on the day our pipe failed?”

He shrugged one broad shoulder. A shoulder that looked as though it could carry the weight of the world on it. Kelly found herself wishing she could simply lay her head on it for just a moment…to find a moment’s peace. Her rambling thoughts surprised her. Sam Tyler was a complete stranger to her! Wearily, she touched her brow, confused by her own chaotic emotional reaction.

“It was eighty-two degrees Fahrenheit, but near the blowout it was close to twenty-five hundred degrees. We worked under a galvanized roof while welding the blowout preventer to the pipe. With the shielding of the roof plus the water fog, it was a livable two hundred degrees underneath.”

“Were you aware of a front coming through? What was the weather situation at the time?”

He gave her an intent look. “What are you getting at? You think high temperature and high barometric pressure might have had something to do with the pipe failing?”

Kelly felt her stomach tighten. “I don’t know. All I want are the facts. We’ll have our lab analyze this pipe. The lab people will have to have all available data in order to make a correct analysis.” Her voice sounded just as clipped as his. But she didn’t want to fight. She wanted peace. She wanted to be held by strong, protecting arms. And there had been no one for the last year of her life. No one who would allow her to lean on him for a moment to try to gather her emotional strength.

“I’ll also need to know how many thousands of pounds of pressure were being pumped through the pipe.”

“I don’t remember right offhand. Pete was our pressure specialist on that job. A full report is logged in on every blowout we cap. It might be better if you come over to the office at Port Neches tomorrow and read through it. Coots will be finishing it tonight.”

Kelly allowed the pencil to slip from her fingers. She gazed across the room at Sam Tyler. She didn’t blame him for his anger over their injuries. “When will they be flying Slim back here to Houston?”

Surprise flared briefly in his eyes. “Why?”

“Because, Mr. Tyler, I want to see him and personally apologize. Here at my father’s company we’re used to keeping oilmen safe, not maiming them.” Her voice broke and Kelly felt the tears rush into her eyes, blurring her vision. She got up and turned, walking resolutely to the window. Her jaw was clenched and rigid as she fought back the deluge that threatened to overwhelm her. She heard Sam get up, heard the soft brush of his boots against the carpet.

“I’ll be over at Boots and Coots tomorrow morning at nine A.M., Mr. Tyler,” she forced out in a brusque manner to hide her tears. Drawing her shoulders up, she silently willed him not to touch her.

Sam halted a few feet from where she stood. Her clean profile was silhouetted against the bright blue of the Texas sky. It was a face filled with stubbornness and pride. But he also saw sensitivity and gentleness there. Her lower lip trembled, and Sam sensed that she was very close to tears. His natural reaction was to reach out and comfort her. But the angle of her tense body warned him off. Dropping his gaze, he said, “Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow morning, Ms. Blanchard. And I’m sorry about your father’s death….”

Kelly waited until she heard the door close before burying her face in her hands. She took several deep, ragged breaths, controlling her anguish. The sudden tenderness and concern that Sam Tyler had displayed had nearly broken her in two. She had had a wild urge to turn and throw herself into his arms. Instinctively, she knew that he would have allowed her to cry freely without demanding an explanation. Groaning softly, Kelly walked back to the desk. Opening the drawer on the right, she grabbed a handkerchief and blotted her eyes.

The buzzer rang and Kelly picked up the phone.

“Yes, Susan?”

There was hesitation in the secretary’s voice. “Ms. Blanchard, a Mr. Gage Wallace of Wallace Steel is here to see you.”

Kelly stood frozen. No! Not now! And not him! Pursing her lips, she said, “Tell him I’m busy, Susan. He made no appointment and I don’t feel up to seeing anyone else today. Whether he likes it or not, he has to make an appointment like everyone else.”

She hadn’t meant to slam the phone down, but she did anyway.

The door to her office opened moments later and Kelly looked up from behind the desk. Gage Wallace slipped in, quietly shutting the door.

“I’ve come to extend my condolences, Sam.”

A surge of emotion rose in her. It took the last of her efforts to remain calm. At age forty-two Wallace was a slender man with prematurely graying hair. Like most image-conscious businessmen, he was impeccably dressed in a dark, pinstripe suit. His brown eyes were narrowed upon her face. “Forgive an old friend for disregarding your secretary’s orders.” He walked up to the desk and handed her a bouquet of tiger lilies, pink tea roses and purple iris.

Kelly stared at the flowers. Her emerald eyes darkened. “You’re a little late with funeral flowers, Gage.”

A slight smile drifted across his lean face. “These are for you, Kelly. I thought they might brighten up your day.”

Her glare was frosty and laden with contempt as she rose from her chair. “The only thing that will brighten up my day is for you to get out of here!”

Gage casually dropped the bouquet on the desk. He seemed completely undisturbed by her outburst. It was as if he were waiting for a child to tire of her temper tantrum. “I was out of the country at the time of your father’s death. Otherwise, I would have attended the funeral and given you moral support.”

Her nostrils flared. “Take your lies somewhere else, Gage! You never cared for anyone longer than it took you to take their money!” Kelly choked back a sob. Oh, God, she couldn’t cry! Not in front of this man who had been like an evil shadow in her father’s life and her own.

“Look,” he continued smoothly, “I know you’re terribly upset by what happened. It’s all over the industry that Blanchard pipe has failed on several blowouts.” He gave a practiced smile that was supposed to win her over. “Sure I can’t interest you in using Wallace Steel Mills? I can assure you our formulas are up to the best standards. Why not switch? Now would be a perfect time. You can’t afford to buy any more pipe from R and B Steel. It will ruin your company’s reputation if another pipe blows under stress. You could lose the whole business, Kelly.”

She was trembling. In an effort to hide her distress, she leaned forward in an aggressive stance. “We have nothing to discuss, Gage. Not a damn thing. It’s typical of you to take advantage of a traumatic human event and try to make a buck out of it. You figure if I’m grief-stricken, I’ll just fall for your plan.” Her eyes sparked with disgust. “I may be upset but that doesn’t interfere with my business sense! Now get out!” She marched to the door and jerked it open.

He watched her for several seconds. “I’ll call on you sometime early next week. We’ll have dinner—”

“You don’t run my life, Gage. You never did. Just because you and Todd were partners once, that doesn’t give you access to me. I watched you run my ex-husband out of the business. I know your kind even if he didn’t.” Her voice shook. “Next time, you make an appointment. This is the last time you take advantage of me, my father’s business or anything having to do with us.”

Gage gave her a chilling smile as he hesitated at the door. “Someday, Kelly,” he began softly, “some man will break that fiery spirit of yours and put you in your rightful place. You’re one hell of a strong-willed woman. You need a strong man. Todd was too weak for you.”

Kelly smiled grimly. “And you can take your opinions with you, too. The man I love won’t want to ‘break me,’ as you put it, Gage. But then, that’s all you know: smash and destroy.”

Gage smiled steadily, his eyes opaque. “You know, there are some parts of your spirit I like.”

“Get out.”

“I’ll call on you next week.”

“Don’t bother.”

Two

“Sam!” Boots Hansen thundered. Unable to sit still longer than two minutes at any given time, Boots got up from behind the desk in his spacious office. Like all his employees, he wore white coveralls. Just as he came around the desk, Sam appeared at the door. “There you are. Come on in. You finally get cleaned up?”

Sam nodded. After leaving the office of Blanchard Pipe, he had gone home to shower, shave and change clothes. Trying to shave with his left hand had proved disastrous. Right-handed by nature, Sam had nicked himself more than once.

Boots’s blue eyes twinkled. “What the hell happened to you, boy?” A wide grin spread across his full face. “Remind me not to let you use a razor anymore.”

Sam took the teasing in stride. He touched his jaw where one of the several cuts had occurred. “I’m tempted to rip this sling off my arm and say to hell with it. I don’t think I can wait a week to get this damn thing off,” he growled. Making himself comfortable in one of the leather chairs, he waited for Boots to sit down.

“You up to playing messenger boy? Or do you want to rest? You look kinda peaked.”

Sam grinned. He had been with the oil firefighting company for three years. His employers’ homespun sense of humor and genuine concern were their trademarks in the industry. No one would make an outward fuss over Sam’s burn injuries. But the concern lingering in Boots’s blue eyes told Sam that he was more than a little worried. “No, I’m fine,” he lied. His shoulder hurt like hell.

With a decisive nod of his head, Boots pushed a set of papers toward Sam. “Good. Coots 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, “I don’t normally go around crying….”

A slight smile lifted one corner of his sensual mouth. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who goes around crying on anyone’s shoulder. So I consider it quite a compliment.”

Her shoulders drooped as she sat down next to him. Kelly buried her face in her hands for a moment. She was grateful for their closeness. “You’ve been through your own personal hell,” she whispered, “I shouldn’t be laying my troubles at your doorstep.”

Sam shook his head, reached out and slid his arm around her shoulders. “No you don’t,” he admonished gently. “Your father had one hell of a reputation as a fighter. And you’re his daughter. I’d wager you get just as stiff-necked and proud as he was. You don’t let anyone help you.”

Kelly responded to his touch. It was all so crazy. Sam Tyler was a stranger. He had come over to drop off the report. Nothing more. But here she was, leaning against his warm strong body, weeping without restraint. She closed her eyes, needing the solace he provided. Her world had gone berserk and she was far too exhausted to try to halt the cataclysmic events tearing her life apart. Sam Tyler represented the only available source of stability at the moment.

“You’re right,” she returned, her voice nearly inaudible. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself as he continued to lightly massage her shoulders. “I am my father’s daughter.”

Sam managed a soft snort. “Proud, Irish and Texan. One hell of a belligerent combination,” he said without rancor. He gazed down at her with newfound tenderness. It would be easy to close the inches separating them and kiss her. He longed to feel the pliancy of her lips beneath his mouth…what the hell was he thinking about? Sam jerked his torrid thoughts up short.

“Just rest, honey,” he urged quietly. “I’ll sit here and hold you for as long as you need.” He watched as her drooping lids closed. Dark lashes swept across her translucent skin like auburn crescents. The rise and fall of her breasts against him lessened. As the minutes passed her breathing became shallow, indicating that she had fallen asleep. An odd smile curved Sam’s mouth. His day was certainly turning out to hold one surprise after another.

He hadn’t expected to find a woman in charge of Blanchard when he went charging in there with the blown section of pipe. He hadn’t expected to meet a woman who had beauty, intelligence and genuine compassion. Sam looked back down at her. Yes, that was what appealed to him the most about her: the fact that she really cared. Old man Blanchard had always wanted to satisfy his customers by providing a quality product. And his lovely, headstrong daughter was cast from the same mold. Sam found her appealing and couldn’t regret the explosive meeting that had brought them together.

He drew in a breath and his broad brow furrowed with worry. You’d better sleep, Kelly Blanchard, he thought to himself, because when you wake up, there will be more problems to deal with. His frown deepened. How could this tall, proud woman affect him so deeply? Was it her spitfire quality? Her courage? Grimacing, Sam knew he had no easy answer. All he was sure of was that when the situation calmed down, he wanted the opportunity to know her better.

There were a myriad of questions he wanted to ask. Did she have someone waiting for her back in Pittsburgh? More than likely. She was too damn pretty not to have a crowd of male admirers around her at all times. Children? If he recalled correctly, he remembered that Blanchard’s only daughter had gotten a divorce a year ago. And it had been a messy one according to the gossip around the oil and gas industry. In this industry, everyone knew everyone else’s business. Had her ex-husband been unable to deal with her? Sam’s blue eyes twinkled at that thought. Yes, she would be a handful for any man who was threatened by a competent, assertive young woman with brains and moxie to back her up.

He remained an hour before carefully extricating himself and gently depositing Kelly on the couch. He located an afghan and placed it over her. Dusk was settling over the city and if he didn’t leave now, he’d end up falling asleep with her cradled in the crook of his good arm. That wasn’t a bad thought. But he sensed she would feel embarrassed enough about her outburst of tears. Proud women cried in private. A lambent flame burned in his eyes as he reached down, allowing his fingers to trail through the thick tresses of her hair. He had been right: it was like silk. Reluctantly, he broke contact and left the report on the desk with several scribbled notes pointing out certain paragraphs of the text that needed her attention.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Kelly, we just can’t use Blanchard Pipe anymore.” Coots Matthews gave her a regretful look, casting an uneasy glance at his partner, Boots Hansen. “We’d like to, honey, but this is the third time in a month that pipe has failed. We can’t risk our men this way. Conditions at an oil or gas blowout are hazardous enough without our being unable to trust our water piping.” Coots shifted uncomfortably. “You understand?”

Kelly remained silent as she listened to their softly spoken apology. When she had groggily awakened around midnight the night before a flood of embarrassment had filled her. But after reading the report well into the early morning hours, she had more serious things to worry about than her behavior with Sam Tyler. She was convinced something was terribly wrong at Blanchard Pipe.

Her green eyes flashed with pent-up annoyance. “Boots, how long did you know my Dad?”

“A good twenty years,” he admitted.

Kelly swung her gaze to Coots. He was the taller and quieter of the famous firefighting duo. Today his face was even more serious than usual. “How about you, Coots?”

“I recollect it was going on twenty-five.”

She straightened up in the chair. They sat in the conference room at an oval mahogany table. She tapped her finger on the wood surface. “And never once in all those years did you see a Blanchard pipe blow?” Her voice was charged with emotion and conviction. She knew her father’s standards of excellence in a product. He believed in paying a good price for good quality material. “Well?” she demanded, her voice becoming husky.

Coots exchanged a mournful look with his partner. “No, honey, none of it ever failed us.”

Her nostrils flared and she threw back her shoulders. “Listen, I read that report. And there wasn’t enough evidence in it. I’m not willing to concede that it was completely our fault.” She looked each man in the eye. It was a risky play and her stomach was knotting in terror over their possible reactions.

Coots frowned, scratching his head. “Now wait a minute—”

Kelly was on her feet. “No, you wait. I want another chance from both of you. For my Dad, if nothing else. I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow three pipe failures to ruin his business and reputation!” Her voice became strained with unshed tears. “Dad never cheated anyone in his whole life! Don’t you see? He’d never cheat on specifications for metal on these pipes. I’ve got to know what went wrong. Something had to induce the metal failure.”

Boots and Coots exchanged glances. She unconsciously held her breath, watching their facial expressions. “Look,” she went on, heedless of what they might think, “I have a plan. On your next blowout call, take me along. Me and a Blanchard pipe. I’ll pay to bring other pipe along from another manufacturer of your choice just in case ours does fail. I want—no, need—to go out in the field with you guys and see why our pipe failed. At least let me do this before you decide.”

Boots puckered up his mouth and expelled a long breath of air. “I don’t have a problem with that, Kelly. But hell, we can get called anywhere in the world.”

“Besides that,” Coots rumbled in his baritone, “you know these fires may last up to six months before they’re put out.” He glanced up at her with his dark brown eyes. “You got that kind of time to spend out at a site, Kelly?”

She placed her hands on her hips. “For the sake of the men whose lives depend on Blanchard Pipe, I’ll make the time. I simply want to be on site for a couple of weeks to record temperature, barometric pressure and other variable factors that might have overstressed our product. I have to see it for myself.” In reality, Kelly knew that she could have sent someone else from the company, but it was her willingness to become personally involved that would convince Boots and Coots to give her pipe a second chance. “In the meantime, I’ve got our lab people and an independent metallurgical lab analyzing the pipe that failed. I’ll have the results in two weeks. If our design or R and B Steel did not comply with our specs, I’ll be the first to tell you.” Her green eyes darkened to a jade color. “We’ve never sold bad pipe to anyone in the world and I won’t start now.”

Coots raised his eyebrows, his long face clearly revealing his surprise. “We never did think your Dad cheated us, Kelly. Hell, we’ve done business with him for a long time. I’m just worried about our men getting injured again.”

“I know that,” she went on. “And Blanchard will pick up Slim and Sam’s medical expenses. It’s the least we can do. My company’s reputation is on the line. I can’t afford one more failure or twenty years of my Dad’s efforts will go down a dry hole.”

Boots allowed a partial grin. “You sure as hell are your father’s daughter.” He exchanged a glance with Coots. “Sam was say’n the same thing this morning. He felt we ought to give you another chance. He’s highly respected in our field. Sam’s speciality is fluid hydraulics and particularly water systems. So we kinda took his opinion on this problem with a great deal of seriousness.”

Kelly swallowed her surprise. “He did?”

“Sure did, honey,” Coots spoke up, getting quickly to his feet. He jammed the white baseball cap back on his head. “Okay it’s settled. You’ll go with us on the next call. We’ll need another load of pipe—”

“It’s on its way over here right now,” Kelly interrupted, smiling for the first time.

Coots grinned and gave her a wink. “Okay, Kelly Blanchard, we got a deal.” He thrust his hand across the table, gripping her hand.

Kelly nodded. “You bet you do. And believe me, neither of you will regret your decision.”

Boots’s smile widened. “Listen, I’m partial to redheaded Texas tornadoes. Like your father’s, your word’s good enough for us, Kelly.” He pointed his finger at her. “Have our secretary, Arlene, outfit you with our coveralls before you leave here today.”

Kelly’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”

“If you’re going out on a job with us, you’d better wear our uniform. Otherwise, the police or military are apt to haul you off the site. We’ll have Arlene make up a badge for you, too. In the meanwhile, pack one suitcase with bare essentials and be ready to move on a moment’s notice.”

Coots’s rolling laugh filled the room. “You know what he means by essentials, don’t you?”

“No. What?” Kelly asked dubiously. Both of these Texans were enjoying this far too much and it made her wary.

“Deodorant and toilet paper, honey. ’Cause most of the places we go are out in the middle of the boondocks.”

She burst into laughter. “Enough for six months, right?”

Coots continued to chuckle. “On second thought, maybe you’d better hire a camel caravan. I can just see it now: rollers for your hair, nail polish, perfume—”

Kelly stifled more laughter. “Okay, I get the point. I’ll come to the airport or wherever you want me to meet you with bells on.”

“By the way, Sam wanted a few minutes of your time when you were done with us,” Coots said, a know-it-all grin on his face.

She shouldn’t have blushed, but she did. Hastily picking up her papers and purse to quell her nervous reaction, Kelly answered in a casual voice, “Good. I wanted to thank him for dropping that report off to me last night.” Well, that wasn’t a total lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth, either. Regardless of the outcome of her meeting with Boots and Coots, she had wanted to personally thank Sam for being so supportive.

“He’s out in the warehouse with Colly, our mechanic,” Boots said, pointed toward the door that led outside.

Kelly nodded and set off down the carpeted hall. At the very end, between the richly furnished offices, was a floor to ceiling photograph of a huge oil well fire. Plumes of billowing red, yellow and orange flames were exploding skyward from the desert well. Above were frighteningly black clouds of smoke. She shuddered inwardly, remembering that it was Blanchard pipe that had failed under just such a circumstance and had left two men injured. Taking a deep breath, Kelly made a turn and walked out into the high humidity and Texas sunlight.

She had purposefully dressed in burgundy slacks and a simple, no-nonsense pink blouse with her hair drawn back into a chignon at the nape of her neck. She had found through hard experience that businessmen responded to her more as an equal if she wore pants rather than a dress. Kelly shook her head over the stupidity of it all. She had a brain in her head regardless of what she wore! Tendrils of hair curled softly about her face from the dampness in the air as she ducked into the coolness of the large, clean warehouse. Kelly halted, allowing her eyes to adjust to the sudden shade.

“Well, how did it go?” a male voice inquired from behind her.

Kelly gasped and turned on her heel. She met Sam Tyler’s interested gaze, her heart beginning to pound at his curious scrutiny.

“I…uh…God, you scared me! Do you always sneak up on people?” she demanded breathlessly, resting her slender fingers at the base of her throat.

His white coveralls were marked with dark smudges of grease. The same hands Kelly remembered as being gentle despite their size and strength were now smeared with machine oil. He was carrying a large coupling in his left hand; his right arm was still in the sling. Sam’s blue eyes twinkled as he held her startled gaze. “Sorry.” His smile became more devastating. “I try not to make a habit of scaring beautiful women.”

Kelly took a step back from him. The bright sun slanted off his broad shoulders, making Tyler seem even taller and more well muscled than she recalled. It was her imagination. She blinked, gathering her wits together. “Boots said you wanted to see me,” she explained abruptly, nervous beneath his blue eyes.

Sam moved next to her. “Follow me. We can talk as we walk. Colly will throw a wrench at me if I don’t get this coupling over to him.”

Kelly nodded and fell in step with him. She was grateful when he shortened his stride for her sake. Although she was long-legged, she was no match for Sam’s stride. “I wanted to come out and thank you,” she said in a rush of words. Why did he make her feel edgy? The coveralls he wore zipped up the front of his chest and she couldn’t help but stare at the mass of black hair visible above the zipper. He was excruciatingly masculine.

“I’d like to talk with you privately, if I could,” she said, glancing up at him.

“No problem.” He looked at his watch. “It’s noon. Why don’t I get cleaned up a little and I’ll take you over to Pondi’s, a great seafood restaurant not far from here.” He smiled. “Besides, you need some meat on your bones, Kelly Blanchard. You’re too damn skinny for a Texas woman.”

She thrilled inwardly to the way her name rolled off his tongue. Frowning and trying not to show that he was affecting her so deeply, she shrugged. “How would you know if I were skinny or not?” she challenged, on guard against the familiarity that just naturally seemed to exist between them.

“Remember, I was the guy that held you last night.” There was teasing in his tone. “And as I recall, I could feel every rib. Now, you willing to own up to being underweight and let me buy you lunch? Or are you going to fight me every inch of the way?”

An unwilling smile curved her lips. “Okay, Sam Tyler, I’ll take your browbeating this one time. I owe you, anyway.”

Three

After Kelly was introduced to Colly, a huge man who was much more heavily muscled than Sam, they departed. Kelly let Sam drive them in one of the many white Cadillacs that belonged to the company. The air conditioning was a lovely respite from the heat and Kelly relaxed in the comfort of the car as Sam drove.

“Does everyone at Boots and Coots own a Cadillac?” she asked drily.

“They’re our company cars.”

“Some company car,” she complimented, trying not to smile with him.

“You figure that our expenses run a minimum of several hundred thousand dollars a day for a team to go on a blowout. Most blowouts aren’t capped or killed right away. Boots went on one that took six months to extinguish. Add the money up on that.”

Kelly did some quick arithmetic. “No wonder all you guys go around driving Cadillacs and wearing eighteen-carat gold Rolex watches!”

“Money doesn’t buy everything.”

Kelly met his teasing blue gaze. “You’re right. Money never did buy my Dad or myself.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“Oh?”

He slowed the car down and pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. “I’d hate to be the man to make the mistake of trying to buy you,” he laughed. “You’d probably deck him.”

Kelly shot him a prim look. “I am a feminist, Mr. Tyler. But I don’t think it’s necessary to go around clubbing people to make myself understood.”

Sam enjoyed her quicksilver moodiness. One moment her green eyes sparkled with challenge; the next, with an angry golden flame of righteousness. “Okay,” he said, “I give up!” He got out and then leaned down. “I’ll be an MCP and open the car door for you.”

He was impossible! Kelly broke into laughter. “Okay, I give up too! Please, open the door for me. Despite this liberated day and age, I always have room for a gentleman in my life.”

His hand fitted perfectly in the small of her back as he guided her toward the restaurant. He stole a look down at her as he opened the door. She looked a hundred percent better than yesterday. “Tell me,” he murmured, “do you look great today because of a night’s sleep or me holding you?”

She shivered imperceptibly at the husky tone of his voice. Kelly had been unable to wipe Sam Tyler from her mind. And he knew she was attracted to him! Not wanting to give him an edge, she muttered, “I slept well, if you insist upon knowing.”

Sam guided her to a darkened booth. His clean white coveralls almost glowed in the dimly lit atmosphere of the restaurant. Shadows played across his face as he sat there watching her. He folded his large, callused hand around the glass of water the waitress set before him. Many small and some larger scars covered his fingers and the back of his hand. It was mute testimony to working around machinery and welding all of his adult life.

“I’m going to take the liberty of ordering lunch for you, Ms. Blanchard.”

She stared at him. “As a show of male force?”

A grin edged his strong mouth. “No, just so you can benefit from my good taste. Although—” he looked down at his coveralls—“you’d never know I have any taste from my present outfit.”

If he had said it any other way, she might have taken issue with his statement. “Let’s see what your taste is worth, Mr. Tyler,” she challenged softly.

“Okay. I think you’ll be pleased.”

After he gave the waitress their order, Sam became serious. His brows drew together slightly. “You look pretty happy compared to yesterday. Something good must have come out of that meeting with Boots and Coots this morning.”

She nodded, sipping the vodka gimlet she had ordered. “They’ve agreed to give me one more chance,” she explained. “I’m going to go on the next call.” She saw his face tense. “What’s wrong?”

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?”

Sam laughed softly as he opened the door for her. “I just hope that when the next fire call comes in, I’m chosen for the team. It will be interesting to watch a redheaded woman dealing with that kind of stressful situation. My bet’s on you, by the way.”

She couldn’t help smiling. His teasing was without rancor. Sam Tyler, in his own special way, was boosting her confidence. If there was a mean bone in his body, she didn’t know where it might exist. He was so different from Todd. Different and refreshing.

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