The Heart of Hill Country by Sherryl Woods

The Heart of Hill Country by Sherryl Woods

Author:Sherryl Woods
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA Books
Published: 2019-11-06T13:02:26+00:00


2

Duke Jenkins was mad enough to bend a steel beam in two, preferably around Jordan Adams’s neck. The man was stubborn, arrogant and, without question, the best oil man in the state of Texas. Maybe in the world. Duke figured he was no slouch himself, which suggested that maybe once, just once, Jordan ought to listen to him.

They were going to be wasting time and money drilling that new field. Every instinct he possessed told him that. He didn’t give two hoots about the ream of geological surveys piled up on his desk. If he’d been able to get out there and look things over firsthand, run the dirt through his fingers, get a deep whiff of the scent of it, he would have been able to put some real strength into his arguments.

As it was, he was going with his gut, instinct honed by years of wildcatting. Jordan preferred cold, hard facts. Scientific facts, which in this instance Duke suspected had been doctored to someone else’s benefit.

If he’d had somebody to look after the boys, Duke would have given Jordan all the facts he wanted. He would have been on a plane in a heartbeat, doing what he did best: finding oil and bringing it in, making them all richer.

Not that he cared all that much about the money. Most of his life he hadn’t had a lot, hadn’t needed much. Now he just wanted to insure that his sons would have a good future, a college education if they wanted it, though getting them through elementary school was proving to be challenge enough.

At any rate, he would trade the potential profits for the pure adrenaline rush of bringing in a new gusher any day.

Instead, he was surrounded by paperwork, mounds of it, most of which didn’t matter a tinker’s damn in the overall scheme of things as near as he could tell.

Oh, how he hated pushing papers around on a desk, he thought, staring irritably at the mostly untouched piles of it still awaiting some action or another. Well, today he’d had enough of it, he concluded, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. If he hung around another few minutes, he might storm straight back into Jordan’s office and quit, something he didn’t have the right to do with two kids depending on him. The twins were the reason he’d made the move to Los Pinos in the first place. He had to give this major life-style overhaul a chance to work for their sakes.

Twenty minutes later, he had the top on the classic convertible down, the car radio was blaring a George Strait tune and he was curving down the winding driveway to the white, ranch-style house he’d bought on the outskirts of Los Pinos. There was a little dip in the land, then a rise. His house was nestled in that suggestion of a valley, surrounded by the pines for which the town had been named. A trickle of water that passed for a creek was the north boundary of the property.



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