Opal Fires

by Lynda Trent

  As Ryan supervised the pipe going into the opening in the center of the rough wooden platform, Sebe found himself staring anxiously at the piece he had cut. It had just been pulled from the storage rack and was being positioned upright in the derrick framework. Had he covered all the signs? Had he had time to weaken it enough? Would Hastings notice? Sebe ran his soiled handkerchief across his forehead.

  Another section was lifted over, screwed into place, then lowered into the well. The worn bit had been replaced earlier in the morning, and several hundred feet of the drilling pipe had already been lowered into the hole. Ryan estimated that by the following morning the bit would be back at work, nearly six thousand feet below. The roughneck working on the monkey board halfway up the tall derrick pulled yet another section of pipe from the rack and secured the collar.

  It was the length Sebe had cut.

  New beads of sweat trickled down his face. He’d never done this before and he had no idea how deep the cut should have been made. Would it break off above ground, where no harm would be done?

  The pipe swung up and over. Ryan whipped the chain around it, positioned it and threw the lever which tightened it to the segment below. Then he released the brake, lowered the pipe and readied it for another length to be fastened to its upper end. As the pipe disappeared below the platform, Sebe sighed raggedly. At least it was in the ground.

  For what seemed to be endless hours, Sebe worked in a state of high anxiety. How would he face Thorndyke if the section didn’t break?

  Clare walked past the old house and gazed at the derrick at the edge of the pasture. She reminded herself that it was her interest in how much progress had been made in the well during her absence that brought her here, but she knew the real reason. She had driven out to see Ryan. Although she didn’t relish the truth about her feelings, she’d missed him far more-than she’d expected. He was becoming all too important in her life.

  “I can still walk away from him,” she told herself. “I can do it any time I want to.” But she no longer thought so convincingly, and she even found her fear of commitments was dissolving.

  Ryan’s shift was ending and he waved as he came off the platform. Without hesitation, she waved back and hurried to meet him.

  “You’re back!” he said as soon as he was beside her. “God, I’ve missed you! If I wasn’t such a greasy mess, I’d hug you.” He gestured at his stained clothes.

  Clare reached up and kissed his cheek. “There’s a clean spot. How’s the well coming along?”

  “Everything is going fine for a change. Maybe our luck’s improving. How would you like to go out for a steak tonight?”

  “Great! I’d love it.”

  “Does Nathan’s sound good to you? I’ll make reservations and pick you up at seven-thirty. We have nearly a whole week to make up.”

  “I missed you, too, Ryan,” she said softly. “It’s good to see you again.”

  Ryan looked down at her tenderly. Had she realized the message her words conveyed?

  “Ryan?” Joe’s voice interrupted them. “We’ve got a problem!”

  He turned and saw the driller hurrying toward them across the pasture. Joe’s words had been unnecessary. Ryan could see trouble, big trouble, written on Joe’s face.

  “Evening, Mrs. Marshall,” he said in a rush, his ingrained manners never lapsing even under stress. “Ryan, we just lost some pipe down the hole!”

  “Damn! Are you sure?” Ryan asked rhetorically.

  “Yeah, broke about three hundred feet down. We’ve pulled out of the hole, but there must be a thousand feet of pipe at the bottom. I can’t figure out how it happened. Broke clean off at the threads. If it had been some of that used pipe we bought, I could understand it, but this was a new load.”

  Ryan frowned and looked over at Clare. “I guess we’ll have to go out another time,” he said regretfully. “That pipe has to come out of the well before we can go any further. I’ll have to go back to work.”

  “Can you get it out?” Clare asked anxiously. “This doesn’t mean the well is gone, does it?”

  “No, nothing that bad. But it’ll delay us. Joe, you go around to the other wells and see if you can find a wall hook. I’ll rig up the cable and be ready for you when you get back.”

  “What will you do?” Clare asked. “How much time will we lose?” Her loan could not be extended and she felt panic beginning to rise.

  “It’s hard to say. Sometimes you can get the broken piece out on the first try and only lose a couple of days. Then again, you may have to try for months and even spud in a new well.”

  “Abandon my well!” Clare felt sick.

  “Don’t get too upset yet. It depends on whether the pipe twisted when it hit bottom or whether it imbedded itself in the wall. If it’s imbedded it’ll be a lot tougher, but maybe we were lucky for a change.” He tried to mask his concern, but Clare found little reassurance in his words.

  “How will you get it out?”

  “Unfortunately, this happens sometimes. There are quite a few tools we can use to fish it out. Some spear the hole in the pipe, some fit over the rim like a collar, some are barbed to pull the pipe to a position where the others can be used. You just have to work with it until you get it out.”

  Clare began to relax. The problem didn’t sound so bad, after all.

  “But we can only go by feel, and that pipe is about a mile underground.”

  Clare’s frown deepened.

  “At any rate, we’ll do our best. It’s really rough that this

  had to happen on top of all the other problem we’ve had, but if we’re lucky, it may not hold us up too long.”

  At the edge of the cow lot, Clare stopped. Here, she was well out of the crew’s way yet had a view of everything going on. A tear of frustration formed up at the corner of her eye, but she refused to cry. Leaning on the cracked concrete cylinder that had once held water for the livestock, she watched the men working.

  After a while, Joe returned with two large, heavy tools, As he helped Joe unload, Ryan told her these were called a center rope spear and a bulldog spear. His face looked grim, however, and Clare felt the knot in her stomach tighten.

  The laborious chore of trying to pull the lost pipe out of the ground began. Now the men’s camaraderie sounded strained, and she could sense tension in them all. As the rows of electric lights came on to dispel the growing darkness, Clare growing went home, leaving the drama that was being enacted far, far below her feet.

  For the next week, the men probed and teased inside the hole. Joe’s daily log entry simply read, “Fishing.” Ryan’s face was drawn with fatigue, but he spent every possible minute coaxing with first one tool, then the other, trying to snag the recalcitrant pipe.

  Then, at last, it caught.

  Slowly, so as not to lose it again, the crew pulled out the broken length. Everyone, including Clare, breathed easier once again. The end of the pipe was examined and it was agreed that the threads must have been flawed. But Ryan and Joe exchanged a long, meaningful look. There had been far too many “unfortunate coincidences” on this project.

  Ryan said nothing to Clare, but he and Joe began watching the men more carefully as the drilling process began again.

  Ryan sat in his apartment, going over the charts of the logging data. The findings tallied with his geological theories, but there was still no sign of any oil. Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes.

  Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang, and before he could reach it, someone knocked. With a frown, he glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten o’clock at night. Could something else have gone wrong with the well?

  He opened the door, and Regina, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses, stepped in.

  “Hello, there,” she said sultrily.

  “Regina.” Ryan couldn’t have been more surprised.

  She closed the door behind her and walked past him, looking around his living room as if she were considering buying it. “Nice place. Did I get you out of bed?’ She
glanced hopefully at him and shrugged. “I guess not.”

  “How did you know I live here?”

  “Kilgore’s not all that big,” she responded as she slipped off her coat. She wore tight knit pants, a see-through blouse, and nothing else. “I phoned apartment house managers until I found you. It wasn’t difficult.” She draped herself on the couch seductively.

  “Listen, it’s pretty late,” he said uncomfortably, “and I have a lot of work to do. You’d better leave.”

  Regina pouted. “Aren’t you even a little glad to see me?” She stood up and put her arms around his neck. “I’ll go as soon as we’ve had some wine.”

  As she rubbed against his chest, Ryan felt her hard nipples beneath the scanty fabric of her blouse. “No, I’m too busy. Besides, I’m dating Clare Marshall, and I’m not interested in seeing anyone else.”

  Regina looked as if she had been slapped. No man had ever turned her down before. “I see. Would it matter if I told you I don’t care if you’re seeing Clare?”

  “No.” He held her coat for her, but she ignored him.

  “Keep the wine… and the glasses. You may change your mind.” Grabbing her coat, she stalked out.

  And you will come to me, she vowed silently. One way or another, I’ll have you; not Clare.

  Clare sat opposite Regina and wondered what had prompted the visit. They rarely spoke any more, even at social gatherings, and Clare sensed Regina was up to no good.

  “I saw Dyna the other day and she was looking marvelous. Too thin, but that’s just the way she is. The twins are running neck and neck for valedictorian of their class.”

  “Naturally,” Clare murmured over her coffee cup. Why was Regina here?

  “There’s a sale at that little dress shop in Longview. What’s the name of it? You know, the one you like. I never can remember the name of it, since I never shop there myself.” The disdain in Regina’s voice was unmistakable. “Anyway, it started today. And the college drama department is presenting Blithe Spirit again As I was telling Ryan, it’s an ancient play, but it might be amusing. Spring will be here before you know it, and I must find another pool cleaning service.”

  “What?”

  “The pool service I have simply isn’t satisfactory. Can you recommend one?”

  “No. Who did you say you’re going to the play with?” Clare’s heart was pounding and her mouth felt dry.

  “Ryan, Ryan Hastings. I understand he’s drilling your well. He’s such a marvelous person.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d met.” Clare carefully put down her cup.

  “Oh, goodness, yes. We met several months ago. We’re old friends by now.” She smiled and gave a deeper meaning to the term. ” So romantic. He’s certainly a step up the ladder from the others I’ve dated around herein every way.” She put down her coffee and stood up. “I have to run now. The sale will be picked over if you don’t hurry, and I know you’ll want to get there before that happens. They carry so few really smart styles as it is. Are you coming to garden club next week?”

  Clare followed her to the door, answering in monosyllables. Ryan and Regina! The pain inside Clare’s chest threatened to rip her apart. She’d trusted him and this was how he treated her! Reason told her to believe Ryan’s actions more than Regina’s words, but the seeds of doubt hit fertile ground.

  Regina left, smiling.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Doggedly, Clare patted the rich brown dirt around the small bean plant. A long row of tender green lay behind her and a long line of tilled soil lay in front of her. Eldon had grumbled heatedly when she’d insisted he plow up the carefully clipped and cultured yew hedges that had formed a French Provencial garden.

  Now the ornate copper sundial stood incongruously in the center of a large vegetable garden-to-be. She had planted several rows of corn as a backdrop to the beans she was now putting in. Squash, tomatoes and potatoes would go between where she now worked and the house. This spot had been chosen for several reasons. Clare had never cared for the sterility of the maze of low hedges and they were too time-consuming for Eldon, since he no longer had a yard boy to help him. But, primarily, the shrubbery had given way to vegetables because the entire garden was hidden from view by a tall hedge row. No one would ever suspect the erstwhile formal garden would now supplement the dining table fare.

  Clare crawled along the row, being careful not to crush the small plants. She hadn’t had the heart to ask Eldon to help her after having him tear out the hedges he had trimmed for nearly forty-five years. Perhaps once the plants took hold and began to grow, Eldon would find it in his gardener’s heart to accept them, but in the meantime, Clare was stubborn enough to take on the responsibility of caring for them.

  “Old family retainers are not all they’re said to be,” Clare grumbled as she squatted on her heels and examined a broken fingernail. Her back ached from the unaccustomed labor and the March sun was growing unexpectedly hot. For some unaccountable reason, she found it was much harder to plant necessary vegetables than it seemed to be to plant decorative flowers. She wiped the perspiration from her brow and left a streak of dirt in its place.

  She recalled how often she’d helped her mother plant spring gardens. And how often she’d promised herself that when she grew up she would never do it again. She placed another plant in the ground. A garden the size of this one would provide almost all the food she, Betty and Eldon would require for months.

  “Miss Clare?” Betty called out, coming around the opening in the hedge. “Miss Marla’s come to see you. I told her she had to wait on the portico because I wasn’t sure where you were.” She lowered her voice even further and said in a stage whisper, “I didn’t know if you wanted her to know about the garden patch and all.”

  “You did right, Betty,” Clare said as she dusted her hands on her old jeans. “I don’t care if Marla knows, but I sure don’t want anyone else to.”

  “Eldon ought to be doing that, not you!” Betty complained. “I’m going to go find him and straighten him out!”

  “No, Betty. I told him I’d plant the seedlings,” Clare told the older woman. “It’s not his fault.”

  “You go on up to the house now and see your company. I’ll be up directly and serve the coffee.” Betty turned away in the direction she had last seen Eldon take, grumbling about her husband as she went.

  Clare went through the arched opening in the hedge and tried to wipe the dirt from her hands onto her stained jeans. The paving stone path was littered with golden pine needles from the tall trees to either side of her, and she noticed the jonquils and narcissus beds were already showing buds. A smell of spring was decidedly in the air, and Clare found herself smiling as she walked by the lagoon-shaped pool.

  In an irregular pond beside it, water lillies grew in a mass along one side. Bright orange and white goldfish of an immense size swam lazily, like beams of light in the murky depths. Lacy green ferns grew in profusion beside the border, along with violets that were already showing early purple blooms.

  The path became the edge of the still pool, one flat rock jutting out over the water to form a diving platform. Clare reminded herself to see that the pool got an intensive spring cleaning.

  Continuing along the graceful curved path, Clare stared up the slight incline to the back of the house. Marla saw her and came running down the slope.

  “What’s the hurry?” Clare asked. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”

  “Lord, no!” Marla gasped, catching Clare’s hands in hers. “Clare, they struck oil!”

  “Oil? On my land?”

  “No, no. The other two! The well below town came in last night. We heard about it on television. This morning the one between here and Tyler came in, too. They say it’s a boom! We’re sitting on a lake of oil!”

  Clare’s heart raced. “You’re sure? Where did you hear this?”

  “It’s all over town. Tom says it sounds as if it may be even bigger than the field that was found here back in! He said s
omething about a theory of underground caverns collecting the oil from the field above. I didn’t understand it, but he says it’s big!” She pulled Clare toward the house.

  “Come turn on the radio. The local stations haven’t talked about anything else all morning.”

  Clare kicked off her dirty shoes at the door and hurried through the house to the morning room, with Marla right behind her. She turned on the stereo and sat down on the wicker chair as the KGRI announcer’s voice filled the room.

  “… biggest oil find in history,” he was saying. “Due to the distance between the wells and the rate at which the oil is flowing, experts say this one field could be the answer to energy independence for this country. The weather today”

  “See?” Marla said. “Your land is just north of there. So is mine! God, I’m glad I didn’t sell out to that land developer last year!”

  Clare’s mind was racing. “Both wells are south of here and

  they’re almost even with each other. If the field runs north to south, it could be very large. But, if it’s a narrow field, running east and west? It could miss us altogether!”

  “I know, but it may not. This could solve all your problems! Besides, Ryan figures it must be this far north or he wouldn’t be drilling where he is.”

  Clare nodded. “I have to go talk to Ryan about it.” She touched her tousled hair without realizing she had done so. “When I got back, I’ll come tell you what he said. Keep your fingers crossed,” she added.

  “You’d better change clothes first,” Marla suggested. “What have you been doing? Playing in the mud?”

  Clare noticed her jeans and jumped out of the chair. “I was putting in a new garden out back. Do you think this dirt will wipe off the chair?” She applied her shirttail to the rattan seat.

  “Probably. But when that well comes in, you can get a new one,” Marla observed happily. “I’ll let myself out. See you latter.”

  Clare ran up the stairs two at a time and quickly washed her face and hands as she kicked off her clothes. Two wells had come in! And both within hours of each other! Oil fever gripped her. She grabbed the first pants and blouse she saw, and while still buttoning the top, Clare hurried down the stairs to her car. An oil boom was more than even she had hoped for!