“Boys,” Boone greets as we approach. “Say hello to Ivy, my fiancée.”
Oh shit, again? My cheeks heat with an awkward flush even as I extend my hand in greeting toward them. “Realtor,” I correct with a smile on my face. “He meant realtor.”
“Sure, realtor. For now.” Boone seems undeterred. He gestures at one man, then the other. “This is Roberts, and this is Gorham. They’re on the board at Price Brothers Oil. I came out to check on the new rig and dowse for another. Thought I’d bring company with me.” He smiles at me.
He’s the only one. The two men in suits are completely stone-faced under their hardhats, gazing at me with completely blank expressions. I can’t tell if they’re pissed or annoyed or pleased to see me.
“I promise not to get in the way,” I say politely, keeping my smile on my face.
Roberts nods, and then turns to Boone. “There’s some business we need to go over that came up at the last meeting. Do you have a moment?”
Boone glances over at me. “You want to go grab yourself some shoes, baby? They’re inside the trailer.”
Both men in suits are staring at me and I’m starting to feel like a bug under a microscope. “Sure.”
He kisses my forehead. “I’ll be in in a moment, then we’ll start the tour.”
I climb up the metal steps into the trailer, and as I do, I’m half expecting him to slap my ass. He doesn’t, and then I feel like a jerk, because of course he wouldn’t. He doesn’t need to be a macho asshole to let the others know that I’m his. Boone doesn’t have to show off in front of anyone. He never does. I feel a twinge of guilt that I’ve been unfair to him, even in my own head. He’s given me no reason to doubt him.
I’m just a jerk and keep looking for excuses to be frustrated with him, I guess. Like I want to somehow find this massive flaw so I can be justified in keeping him at arm’s length.
I enter the trailer and a wash of cool, recycled air hits me. There’s a window unit chugging away, but the inside of the trailer is empty. It’s a bit of a mess, too. There’s a few maps on the wall that I can’t make heads or tails of, and a corkboard covered with notes, schedules, and other bits of paper. There’s a shelf full of binders behind a cheap desk, and the desk itself is covered in more papers, more binders, and a phone. Everything looks cheap, just a little bit dirty, and cluttered. There’s a row of boots behind the door, along with a few extra hardhats. I pick up one pair of boots that look the smallest, but they’re dirty and there’s no socks. Erm.
Boone enters a moment later, talking with either Roberts or Gorham—I don’t remember which is which. They discuss meters and barrels and I sit in a folding chair in the corner, so I don’t interrupt. The man in the suit hands over stacks of paperwork and Boone signs them even as the two argue about investments and drilling and other things I politely try not to listen to, since it’s none of my business.
“That’s the last of it,” Roberts says, closing a folder after Boone signs off. “There’s a meeting with the board Tuesday at ten in the morning—”
Boone shakes his head. “Change it to Wednesday.”
“Wednesday at ten in the morning,” Roberts amends smoothly. “Will you and your brothers be there?”
“I’ll be there. Dunno about them.”
Roberts nods at him and heads toward the door. He nods at me as well, and then leaves without a good-bye. The door shuts behind him. Boone rubs his beard, an irritated expression on his face.
“Friendly,” I say to Boone, teasing.
Boone snorts. “I didn’t hire him because he’s a nice guy. But he likes to be in charge of all the shit I don’t like to be in charge of, so it works out well.”
“I don’t think he liked me,” I point out.
“He don’t like anyone,” Boone says. “Even me. You’re in good company.”
That makes me chuckle. “And you’re okay with that?”
“Long as he spends all day in the boardroom and not me? Hell yeah.” He gets to his feet and comes to my side. “You find some boots?”
“Yes, but there’s no socks.” I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not sure I like the thought of cramming my foot into someone else’s boot without one.”
He laughs and opens up a file cabinet, pulling out a package of socks. “Fair enough. Now, come on. I wanna show you my rigs.”
A few minutes later, I’m wearing new socks, boots, a hardhat, and my hand is in Boone’s as he leads me forward. The work on the rig doesn’t stop as we approach up the ramp, but we also don’t get too close. Instead, Boone pulls me aside and points out how the process works, and I try to follow along. From what I can tell, they constantly add more pipe to the hole as they dig, then someone brings in a chain and wraps it around the pipe to tighten things, and then it all starts over again. I’m pretty sure I’m missing about eighty percent of the process, but Boone seems pleased with how things are going.
“See that guy right there?” he tells me, pointing at one with a broom. “The worm?”
“Worm?” I ask.
“That’s my little brother, Seth. I’m making him work for the summer before he gets his shares, so he knows what this shit is about.”
I nod slowly. “So he gets a share of the company?”
“Family share. It’s Price Brothers Oil, and he’s a Price. I have majority, but all of my brothers get an equivalent family share.”
“How much is the share?” I can’t help but be nosy.
“Right now? Probably a billion or so.”
My eyes go wide. I stare at the scruffy, lean guy in a hardhat. He’s the blond kid from before, with the downy beard on his jaw. He’s wearing a dirty jumper and the other guys pause every now and then to give him shit, which he ignores.
He’s going to be a billionaire at the end of the summer.
I feel like I’ve stepped onto another planet right about now. One summer of hard work and you get a billion dollars. If only it were that easy. Shaken, I turn to Boone. “W . . . which is the job you did? Before you hit oil?”
He points at a man standing at what looks like a control panel. “I was the driller, but I’ve worked all the positions and gotten my hands dirty.” He winks at me. “Something you’ll never have to do.”
“Ah.” My stomach tightens.
Boone puts an arm around my shoulders. “You want me to go in there and show you how it’s done?”
I watch as someone flings a chain around the pipe and all the roughnecks move into motion. Mud sprays and everyone steps backward. “No, I’m good, actually.”
He chuckles. “You wanna go dowsing, then?”
“Sure.” I pause as he turns away. “Are you going to say hi to your little brother?”
Boone shakes his head and leads me back down the ramp. “Nope. He needs to concentrate. Could lose a finger if I mess with his mojo.”
I blink in surprise, because that sounds awful. And then I remember that Boone’s missing a finger, too. Is that how? The work seems a lot more dangerous all of a sudden. I look back and watch them tighten the chains on the pipe, all of them covered in mud as the driller shouts at them. I’m rather glad that Boone’s in charge and not on the rig any longer. The thought of him being in any kind of danger makes me feel . . . nervous and unhappy. I slide my hand around his waist and tuck my fingers into his belt loop. “I’d like to see the dowsing.”
“You just wanna see me play with my stick, don’t you?”
I snort.
***
Several hours later, I feel as if I’ve crawled all over the flats of West Texas. Boone and I met up with another one of his workers, this one with a topography map, an iPad, and two all-terrain vehicles. We’d set off on the vehicles, me clinging to Boone’s back, and then arrived at the spot Boone wanted to investigate. From there, Boone pulled out his dowsing rods and I watched as he moved slowly over the ground, calling out locations for his worker with the map to mark down. It’s the most bizarre thing, but both Boone and the worker took it extremely seriously. Boone even handed the dowsing rods to me and asked if I wanted to give it a shot. I did, but didn’t feel a thing, and quickly handed them back.
Perhaps some people are just better at finding money than others. If that’s the case, I’ll never be able to dowse a thing. Money seems to elude me.
By the time Boone seems satisfied, there’s at least twenty spots noted on the map that he goes over with his employee, and the sun feels like it’s baking me to a crisp in my suit. Boone notices I’m starting to wilt and claps the guy on the back. “We’ll finish early today and hit the next field tomorrow.” Then, Boone comes to my side. “You ready to head out, darlin’?”
Now I feel guilty. “I don’t want to keep you from working—”
“If there’s oil in the next field, it’s been there for sixty-five million years. It can keep for another day.” Boone glances back at his employee. “I’m taking my fiancée home. I’ll see you in the morning. Take the rest of the day off.”
“Will do. You have a good one, boss.” He tips his hat to both of us and gets on his ATV.
Boone drives us back to the trailer and I change back into my heels. We get in the truck and Boone looks over at me. “Is the motel okay? Big Lake doesn’t have anything fancy like the place I took you last week.”
“If it has a shower, I’m completely fine with that.” I’m sweaty and gross and ready to change out of my clothing. “I don’t have anything to change into.”
He grins. “One shower, coming right up. As for the change of clothing . . .” He puts the truck in park and grins at me. “Be right back.”
I watch as he races back into the trailer and returns a few moments later with a plastic package. He tosses it over at me as he buckles back in. It’s a T-shirt: Price Brothers Oil. I chuckle. “Perfect.”