Where There's Smoke

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Bowie. In fact, if it would relieve your mind, I’ll authorize you to put a test meter between the well and the recorder.”

He got the impression that he was being humored. “Okay, I will,” he said, calling her bluff. “Do you know if there was ever a flare line off this well?”

“If there was, it was capped off when they became illegal. We don’t waste gas that way anymore.”

They retraced their steps back to the gate. Bowie locked it behind them. “Did you tell your mama about this?”

“No.”

“You didn’t think it was important enough?”

By now she had reached the passenger door of the truck and turned to face him, shading her eyes against the sun. “I’ll thank you not to put words in my mouth, Bowie. It’s just that these days I don’t worry Mama with anything that I don’t have to.”

“You sure look pretty, Miss Janellen.”

“What?” she exclaimed. Her hand remained where it was, with her index finger following the curve of her eyebrows and her palm sheltering her eyes.

Oh, hell. He’d gone and done it now. He reached beneath his hat to scratch the back of his head. He hadn’t meant to say what he was thinking. The words just popped out. And now an exp

lanation was called for.

“It just, uh, struck me all of a sudden how pretty you look standing there. With the sun shining in your eyes and the wind whipping your hair around.”

The hot, arid wind had also plastered her clothes to her body, so, for the first time since meeting her, her shape was clearly defined for him. In his estimation it was a very nice shape, but he didn’t indulge his curiosity for long because her face was crumbling and her eyes were filling up with tears that had nothing to do with the sun’s glare.

“Oh!” she sobbed. “Oh, Lord! I could just die!”

Her reaction alarmed him. All a parolee needed was to have a hysterical woman on his hands, bawling and carrying on and saying she could just die. He anxiously rubbed his damp palms against his thighs.

“Hey, Miss Janellen, don’t get yourself all worked up now.” Nervously he glanced around, hoping no one was witnessing her distress. “When I said… well, I didn’t mean anything disrespectful. You’re safe with me and that’s a fact. What I mean is, I wouldn’t—”

“Just because he told you to keep an eye on me doesn’t mean you have to shower me with compliments you don’t mean.”

Bowie squinted his eyes and cocked his head, unsure he’d heard her right. “Come again?”

“I don’t need him watching over me, or you either.”

“ ‘Him’? Are you referring to your brother? Key?”

“Of course Key,” she said with annoyance. “Ever since he asked you to keep an eye on me, I can’t turn around without bumping into you.”

“Well, I apologize for any inconvenience it’s caused you, but I promised Key I’d look out for you, and I keep my promises. I plan to keep on looking out for you until he tells me to stop.”

“I’m telling you to stop. As of this minute. All the reporters have left Eden Pass. I’m in no danger of being ambushed by them, so you don’t need to trouble yourself any longer.”

“It wasn’t any trouble to drive you around, Miss Janellen.”

“I can drive myself! I have since I was sixteen.”

“Yes, ma’am, I know that, but—”

“And I can read a meter box the same as any man. Alone, too.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“While you feel duty-bound to trail me everywhere, I certainly don’t need you throwing out empty compliments that—”

“It wasn’t empty.”