Blue-Eyed Devil (Travis Family #2)(81)

I'd never seen T.J. without his signature white beaver-felt hat with five inch brim and six-inch crown. A Western hat of those dimensions would have looked ridiculous on a regular-sized man, but T.J. was a mountain of a human being. He was taller than Hardy, and outweighed him by at least half again. One of his beefy wrists was weighted with a yellow-gold and diamond Rolex. A sausage-sized forefinger sported a gold nugget ring shaped like Texas.

Even as a child I had been subjected to T.J.'s disconcerting habit of kissing females of all ages on the lips. Tonight was no exception. He planted a wrinkly kiss on me, smelling like saddle leather and sweet cologne and La Unica cigars. "What's my favorite girl doing," he boomed, "keeping company with this rascal?"

"Evening, sir," Hardy said with a smile, reaching out to shake his hand.

"You've already met Mr. Cates?" I asked T.J.

"We did some talkin' on my Gregg County property," T.J. allowed. "Couldn't quite settle on terms." He winked at me. "Man's gotta have deep pockets, dealing with me."

"T.J. doesn't want the pockets," Hardy said ruefully. "He wants the whole pair of pants."

The old man chuckled richly. He put a fleshy arm around me and squeezed. He gave Hardy a meaningful glance. "You treat this little girl right," he said. "She was brought up by the greatest lady ever to grace the state of Texas."

"Yes sir, I will."

After T.J. left us in his shambling, gouty stride, I turned to Hardy. "Why couldn't you come to terms with him?"

Hardy shrugged slightly, his smile wry. "It all got hung up on the bonus." Seeing my incomprehension, he explained. "When the landowner signs the lease, he usually gets a bonus from the buyer.

Sometimes he's entitled to a pretty substantial one, if the land looks good and there are producing wells nearby. Hut the bonus is always low if the land doesn't warrant it."

"And T.J. wanted a big bonus?" I guessed.

"Bigger than any sane man would pay. And I believe in calculated risks, but not crazy ones."

"I'm sorry he wasn't willing to be reasonable."

Hardy shrugged and smiled. "I'll bide my time. It'll work out sooner or later. And God knows I've got enough on my plate already." He regarded me with impeccable politeness. "Feel like going home now?"

"No, why would I — " I broke off as I saw the glint in his blue eyes. I knew exactly why he wanted to go home.

Demurely, I said, "We haven't seen the whole exhibit yet."

"Sweetheart, you don't need to see the rest of the exhibit. I can tell you anything you want to know about rigs-to-reefs."

My smile turned into an outright grin. "So you're an expert?" Having become familiar with his solid recall of facts and details, I wasn't all that surprised.

"Ask me anything," he said readily.

I toyed with a button on the front of his shirt. "Do the rigs actually do anything to enhance the fish population?"

"According to a biologist who works for the Marine Science Institute, yes. The reefs attract some fish, but there's no way you can get such huge numbers to come randomly from all over the ocean to gather at the rig. So fish are definitely being created there." He paused and asked hopefully, "Heard enough yet?"

I shook my head, staring at the front of his throat, where the skin was smooth and brown and appetizing. I loved the sound of his voice, the thick honey of his accent. "Does the rig still belong to the oil company after they cut the top off" I asked.

"No, it's donated to the State, which takes title to it. Then the company donates half the savings to the Artificial Reef Program."

"How long does it take for the fish to come to the . . . the structure they leave in the water?"

"It's called a rig jacket." Hardy fingered the edge of the flutter sleeve on my dress. "After the rig jacket's been toppled and placed for about six months, you get all kinds of plants and invertebrates attaching to it — a lot of hard coral recruits near the top, where there's more light, and then the fish come along." He leaned closer to me and let his mouth touch the tip of my eyebrow. "Want to hear about the food chain?"

I breathed in his scent. "Oh, yes."

His hand came to my elbow, stroking gently. "There's a little fish swimming along, and then comes a big hungry fish . . . "

"Haven!" A high, cheerful voice cut in, and I felt a pair of small arms wrap around my waist. It was Liberty's little sister, Carrington, her pale gold hair hanging in two neat braids.

I hugged her and bent to kiss the top of her head. "Carrington, you look so stylish," I said, viewing her miniskirt and clogs.

She flushed in pleasure. "When are you going to come for a sleepover at my house again?"

"I don't know, sweetie. Maybe — "

"You're here with Hardy?" she interrupted, having glanced at my date. She went to hug him, chattering all the while. "Haven, did you know Hardy drove my mama to the hospital the night I was born? There was a storm, and it was flooding everywhere, and he got us there in an old blue pickup."

I glanced at Hardy, smiling, "He's pretty good at rescuing people."

His gaze turned wary as we were joined by two more people Gage and Liberty.