Free Morning Glory by Carolyn Brown Page B

slip her foot to one side, but
couldn't get traction on anything in the slippery earth.
    He reached for her waist and sat up with her. "Yes,
ma'am, you've just seen a gusher come in."
    "This is ridiculous," she sputtered. "Help me up."
    Reluctantly, he stood to his feet and offered her a
hand. "Careful. It's greasy"
    She hoped the high color creeping up her cheek
bones would be disguised by the mess. "I'm going back
to Tucker's."
    "I'm sorry, Clara, but I've got to help get this under
control." Briar hurriedly joined the men, all of them
acting like little boys the first time they went swimming
in the summer. Jumping around. Patting each other on
the back as they worked. Big grins on their filthy faces.
And Briar right in the middle of all it.
    Clara headed off toward the stile in the fence but
stopped when she'd only gone a few feet. She watched
in stunned silence, feeling the excitement in the men's
movements, hugging herself against the reaction she'd
experienced when Briar picked her up. Still feeling the
excitement when she'd been thrown on top of him.
She'd actually enjoyed the closeness of his chest next to her face when he sat up with her and the sparks tingling against her fingers when he helped her to her feet.

    I will not like Briar I won't. He is just a passing
physical attraction.
    She turned her back on the whole messy business
and started up the stile steps. She should be angry at
him but strangely enough she wasn't. He'd tried to save
her from the oily mess; it just hadn't worked. She
reached up and pushed a limp strand of hair away from
her face. Lord Almighty, it would take a dozen washings to get that horrid mess from her hair.
    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