Morning Glory (7 page)

The supper table was full that night when Briar took
his place. Tucker had filled the last chair and the look
on his face was one of sheer panic. Olivia gazed at him
as if she could do much, much more than break house
rules. Actually, poor old Tucker looked like he was one
of those piglets that had been laid out on a platter with
an apple in his mouth and Olivia was the person with
the big butcher knife ready to begin carving.

Briar glanced around the supper table at the others.
The two B's were occupied with their food. Nellie and
Cornelia both had a twinkle in their eye, not like
Olivia's, but one that said they were glad Tucker had
joined them for supper. Dulcie had sat down to eat with
the rest of the group but she still bustled around making sure food was passed and bowls stayed full.

Clara still looked like she could chew up Briar and
spit his bones all over the southern part of Oklahoma.
He'd scrubbed until his neck was pink and his fingernails clean. Not one bit of accursed oil had come to her
supper table. Evidently, she didn't like losing and the
look in her eye said that she could carry a grudge forever. He didn't doubt it for a minute. Cecil's predictions
about her going to town to murder the man who'd jilted her were probably right. A cold shiver tickled its
way up Briar's backbone.

"Tucker, pass me the beans, please," Olivia said
sweetly.

Briar was glad Olivia hadn't set her hat for him. Poor
old Tucker might reconsider and sell his farm outright
to Rose Oil Company just to get away from that flirty
girl. Briar cocked his head to one side. Buy a farm in
Healdton? Now that was an idea. Libby would love it
here in the wide open spaces. He'd have to think on that
some more at a later time.

Tucker set his jaw firmly. "So tell me, Clara, what
happened today? I was in the post office this afternoon
and you weren't there. Were you ailin'? I heard some
rumors."

"No, just got a dose of housecleaning fever and forgot the time," she said.

Nellie raised an eyebrow. "When I came home from
the school, Inez stopped me in front of the drug store.
Said you hadn't come to town today and she'd heard
the fever had taken you suddenly. She asked if there was going to be a big funeral or just a graveside. If it
was going to be a big thing at the church then she
would close the store during the time of the service, but
she didn't figure it would be a church funeral since you
haven't been inside the building in ten years."

Clara gasped.

Nellie didn't miss a beat; scarcely even breathed.
"Gossip that she is, I figure she's the very one who
started the rumor. I told her was wrong. You were fine
and dandy at breakfast this morning. Just because you
didn't show up in town sure don't mean you'd passed
on. You can change your routine doings on a whim, like
all women can."

"What do you mean by housecleaning fever? Is it
contagious?" Olivia asked.

"I was cleaning the attic. Nellie, do you think the
rumor has been corrected? Mercy me, I wouldn't want
people to start bringing food in here," Clara said.

Olivia snarled her nose. "Yuck, I hate housecleaning.
You could afford a maid, Clara. Why don't you hire
one?"

"I'm capable of doing my own housework. Just
because I don't cook, doesn't mean I can't clean,"
Clara answered her shortly.

"I imagine the gossip fires have been quenched.
Besides, if folks bring food, you just be the one to
answer the door. That should stop them in their tracks.
They'll think they're bringing vittles to a ghost," Nellie
said.

Briar enjoyed pork chops, biscuits and gravy, green
beans, and candied yams and made a mental list of
what he'd learned. Olivia didn't like to clean. Clara
couldn't cook, which explained Dulcie. Olivia made
Tucker nervous with all those blatant advances toward
him. Nellie was more than a little sassy. The two B's
were quiet, but getting a kick out of the dinner conversation. It was much, much better than living in the hotel
and taking his meals wherever he could find a cafe with
an empty chair.

Bessie finally chuckled down deep in her chest.
"Why, I bet it's been two weeks since I went to town.
Needed some cotton thread to crochet with and walked
up to the general store. Wonder why Inez didn't tell
everyone I was dead. Not a soul brought food. I'm disappointed. Someone could have at least toted in a pecan
pie."

"Bessie, everyone thinks us two old dinosaurs died
years ago. Most of our generation has already given up
the ghost. Clara needs to let go of that quirk she's got
of going to town every day for the mail at the same
time. Then people won't be thinking she's kicked the
bucket and joined us in the hereafter," Beulah said.

"Let's change the subject," Clara said. "I'm not dead
and it's a morbid supper topic. Tucker, what brought
you into town for supper tonight? Not that I'm fussin'
one bit. We always love to have your company"

Tucker piled a few more yams on his plate. "Figured
I'd better come see if you killed Briar or if he killed you, havin' to stay the same house. Got to admit it did
give me a start when I heard you'd passed on. I knew
any kind of fever wouldn't kill you, though. If you had
died, it would be of sheer stubbornness."

"Well, we're glad you're here, Tucker. We don't even
care what made you leave the farm and come to town.
It's so nice to have a fresh face at the table, especially
yours," Olivia said, sugar syrup oozing from her voice.

Tucker didn't return the smile, barely nodded at the
woman, afraid to give her an inch of encouragement for
fear she'd be packed and in his car by the time he swallowed his last bite.

Clara shot her cousin a mean look down the length
of the long dining room table. "Me, stubborn? How can
you say that?"

"You are and you know it," Tucker said.

"What makes me so stubborn? I'd say you and Tilly
could outdo me any day of the week."

"You're stubborn because you insist on working for
a living. You know you could come out to either of the
farms and live with me or Tilly, but you stay right here,
running a boarding house," Tucker said.

"You against a woman working?" Briar asked.

"Yes, I am. A woman's place is in the home. What's
your opinion?" Tucker asked.

"Don't know that I've got one," Briar answered.

"Don't get Tucker started on that issue," Clara said.
"He'll stay on the soap box all through supper if you do."

Nellie raised an eyebrow halfway to heaven. "Oh, no. Not only do I want to hear his opinion, I want to
express mine. So now, Mr. Anderson, elaborate. Why
shouldn't a woman work outside the home? We've
fought long and hard for the right to make our own
decisions."

"I understand your position, Nellie. You don't have a
male cousin or an inheritance to keep you. You must
work, and there is a place for schoolteachers until they
marry, of course. But Clara has a choice and works
when she doesn't have to," Tucker said.

Cornelia took up the cause. "I think any woman,
regardless of the situation, should be allowed to make
those decisions for herself."

"They do have that right. But Tucker also has the
right not to agree," Briar said.

"Thank you" Tucker nodded toward Briar. "If every
one of you wants to work, that's fine. But when I find a
woman, she'll be someone who will be content to make
a home and raise a family for me"

"Good luck, darlin'," Bessie chuckled. "If you find
one like that she'll be about the age of me or Beulah or
your granny. You were born a generation or two too
late. There's a rebellion in the air and the womenfolk
are about to bust out of their corsets, Tucker Anderson"

"Yes, ma'am, I might have really been born too late
in the scheme of things, but if I can't have what I want,
then I'll do without," Tucker said. "Now Briar, tell me
what oil company is it you've signed on with?" He changed the subject before Nellie could suck up
enough air to begin again.

"I'm a roustabout for Rose Oil Company," Briar said.

"Rose Oil Company? Had a man by the name of
Cecil Broadrick come visit me about leasing my land to
that company. Nice enough fellow. Know him?" Tucker
asked.

"Know him well. He works with me. We just started
setting up equipment today to sink a well right across
the pasture fence from your land. All the indications are
that your property would have some oil. You could
stand to make a lot of money," Briar said.

"Told Cecil I wasn't interested. I've told Standard
Oil no, as well as Magnolia and a dozen other fly-bynight companies. I like sitting on my back porch and
looking out over the land, seeing nothing but rows and
rows of cotton," Tucker said.

"And Tilly?" Briar asked cautiously.

"Tilly raises corn over on her place and runs a fine
herd of cattle," Tucker said. "She's a very private lady.
Don't like lease hounds or anyone coming uninvited."

"I see," Briar said seriously. There was nothing to
keep him in Healdton if he couldn't talk the Andersons
into leasing their land and selling him their mineral
rights. Cecil could run the business without him. Yet,
even in the short while he'd been there, he found himself drawn to the area and the town.

Clara used her napkin to wipe away a smirk as well as a dab of grease from her mouth. Briar Nelson might
be a refreshing change at the dinner table but he sure
hadn't been in Healdton since the day when God divided the land from the water so he had no right to the real
family history. He wasn't Healdton bred, born and
raised and had no idea what went on in their world. It
wasn't one bit of his business why Tilly or Tucker
didn't want a bunch of people fooling around on their
property. But still it was amusing to watch the fireworks
at the supper table: Dulcie all puffed up like a toad
frog; Tucker embarrassed at the blatant attention from
Olivia; Nellie and Cornelia up on a high horse about
their jobs; and just what was Briar up to anyway?

Clara chanced a look toward Briar to find him staring at her. Not just looking or gazing past her into
space, but looking intently into her eyes as if he were
prowling around in her soul. She couldn't force herself
to look away. The space between them snapped and
crackled with friction. She'd never experienced such an
upheaval of emotions, not even when Percy dropped
off the face of the earth ten years before.

But why now? she asked herself. She despised him.
One did not yearn for something they detested. Why, he
didn't even have enough sense to leave when he knew
he wasn't wanted.

Olivia broke the silence. "Briar, is your job very
dangerous?"

Briar turned away from Clara's icy cold glare to look at Olivia. "Not as much as a tool-pusher or a driller. I
supply equipment to the rig floor when it's needed"

"Then you're the low man in the business?" Clara
asked.

"You might say that," Briar answered.

"I thought a roughneck was on the bottom of the job
list," Beulah said.

"Not hardly." Briar shook his head.

"Then enlighten us and tell us what a roughneck
does," Beulah said.

"A roughneck is one of a team of three. He's responsible for the operation of equipment and machinery and
answers to the driller," he said.

"And the driller, what does he do?" Beulah asked.

"He's got a high level of responsibility. He's in
charge of everything that happens on and above the rig
floor. He operates the drilling equipment that makes the
hole in the earth to reach the oil," Briar explained.

Olivia wasn't about to be left out of the conversation.
Tucker would never notice her if she didn't keep herself in the spotlight. "Is there anyone who's above this
driller man?"

"The derrickman," Briar explained.

"Then tell us about him." Olivia didn't care what
they did with those filthy oil wells. The only good thing
about them was that they were bringing money to the
banks and insured her job. But if she kept flirting with
Briar maybe it would make Tucker jealous.

"The derrickman is the one who takes care of the
mud pumps, mud holding pits and the machines in the
mud pump room. He also helps the roughnecks when
they need it. He's the person who'll climb the derrick
to help with the drill pipe when it's being pulled up out
of the hole," Briar told them.

"I see," Olivia mumbled without hearing a word of
what he'd said.

"Then the derrick fellow is the one who had the most
dangerous job?" Beulah asked.

"Most of the jobs around a rig are dangerous," Briar
said.

Olivia stifled a yawn.

"And what is your stand on women staying at home,
Olivia?" Briar deliberately changed the subject.

"Oh, I think all married women should stay home.
They should have a maid, a wonderful woman like
Dulcie to cook, and a gardener to keep the grounds
lovely. They should plan parties and social events,"
Olivia said.

"And children?" Briar asked.

"One. Just enough to carry on the ... name," Olivia
stammered only slightly, glad she'd bit her tongue
before she said Anderson name.

"I see," Briar said.

Bessie narrowed her eyes at Briar. "Women sure
have it better than me and Beulah and Kate, that would
be these Anderson kids' granny, did in our day. Back
then most menfolks would have died before they let their wives work outside the home. But I have to say we
did make our own way, didn't we? Why are you interested in Olivia's opinion on women's rights?"

"Just wondering if she was going to apply for a job
with Rose Oil as a roustabout or if she was going to get
married and stay home," Briar said.

Nellie laid down her fork and napkin and got ready
for a debate. "I'm telling y'all, there'll come a day
when women will have all the rights men have. If they
want to put on britches and crawl all over a dirty oil rig,
then they should be able to do it without a fuss from
anyone. We'll be able to wear what we want right out in
public, say what we think and have all the rights a man
does. They're already doctors and lawyers. There'll
come a day when a woman will be President of the
United States, too"