Free Water Witch by Jan Hudson

her over the rim.
    The kitchen was filled with sexual awareness.
    It bounced off the ceiling, pulsated from every corner. It was so potent Max couldn’t breathe at all. She couldn’t move. Her heart felt like a rock hammer beating against her ribs.
    The telephone rang. They didn’t move. It rang again.
    On the third ring, Sam muttered an oath and snatched up the receiver from the wall behind him. “Hello.” The greeting was an impatient bark. His scowl softened and he said, “Oh, hello, Uncle Buck. It’s Sam.” After a pause he said, “Having dinner.” He looked over at Max and winked. “Yes, she is. But you’d better watch out, you old lecher, or I’ll tell Honey Bear on you.” He laughed at something his uncle said, then held out the phone to Max. “He wants to talk with you.”
    She rose, her muscles beginning to stiffen up from her spill, and, trying not to limp, stepped to the phone. “Hello, Mr. Barton. This is Max Strahan. I may have some good news for you.”
    “You mean you think there’s water on that hill, little lady?”
    “I’m pretty sure.”
    “Hot damn! Honey Bear’s gonna be whoopin’ and hollerin’. I had a hunch about you, gal.”
    Max laughed. “I need to do some more testing tomorrow, but if things are as I suspect, we’ll start drilling in a few days. You’d better get your checkbook ready.”
    “Hot damn! I may give you a bonus. Honey Bear’s gonna keep me up all night, she’s gonna be so tickled. We’ll be back in Houston by the end of next week. If you hit it before then, give us a call up here at the Plaza Hotel in New York City.”
    Max took down the number of their hotel suite and said her good-bye. Buck Barton’s excitement had been infectious. After talking to him, her previous exhilaration over the project had returned. Still grinning, she turned to Sam. A deep furrow creased his forehead.
    “You didn’t tell me you’d located a drilling site today,” he said.
    “You didn’t ask. And anyway, as I told Mr. Barton, I have to do some more testing before I’m sure of the best spot. I can’t afford to drill any dry holes.”
    Sam chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to decide what to say. She looked so happy and excited after talking to Buck. He didn’t want to burst her bubble or hurt her feelings, nor did he want to make her mad again. But he knew there wasn’t any water on that hill. He took her injured hand in his, looked at it carefully, then dropped a feather-light kiss on her palm. The swelling was down some, but it was far from healed. And although she’d tried to hide it, he’d seen her limp. It wrenched his gut to think that she’d be scrambling around on that rough ground trying to find something that wasn’t there.
    “Angel,” he finally said, “you’re in no shape to work tomorrow.”
    “I have to, Sam. I have no choice. Anyway, I’ll be fine by morning.”
    “Why is finding water on Honey Bear’s hill so important to you?”
    She hesitated for a moment, then looked into his worried eyes. “I need the money.”
    He almost breathed an audible sigh of relief. She’d finally admitted to him that she had a problem. “Oh, hell, sweetheart, if you need money, I’ll loan—”
    “No, Sam. Thanks for offering, but I don’t want your money. I can handle this by myself. Mr. Barton will pay me when I bring in the well.”
    Sam hugged her to him and nuzzled his face in her sweet-smelling hair. What was it about this black-eyed angel that made him want to coddle her, protect her, shield her from disappointment? He drew back and scanned her face. “Are you so sure there’s water there?”
    “I’m positive.”
    She said it with such fervor that she almost convinced him. “Then go for it, Angel. I’m with you all the way.” Hell, if it took drilling a hole to make her happy, he’d help her sink holes all over the damned hill.
    Max felt as if she were drowning in green, so powerful was the spell of Sam’s gaze. His head lowered and