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Shading her eyes against the sun, she gazed back toward the road but didn’t see anyone coming.
She checked the time on her phone. It’d been forty minutes since she’d received his message telling her to meet him here. Maybe he’d had to finish something else and would appear at any moment. Or maybe he was at another jobsite—one of his own—laughing his butt off that she’d believe he’d help her drill a well on a job he felt should’ve gone to him in the first place. It wasn’t hard to recall how angry he’d been when he’d confronted her about her sales tactics at the Slemboskis’.
Don’t make me put you out of business...
Saving this job for her was hardly putting her out of business. So...he couldn’t really intend to help her, could he?
She was just about to start the engine of her rig and drive off when she saw a white truck turn down the long drive. She couldn’t quite read the logo emblazoned on the door. It was still too far away. But she knew what it said:Fetterman Well Services.
Ellen had climbed down from her truck and was waiting for him as he’d hoped she would be. Hendrix could see the doubt in her body language as soon as he parked and got out, but he’d been expecting that reaction. He’d certainly never offered to help before. Although—except for the incident with Ben—he hadn’t purposely gone out of his way to hurt her, he hadn’t made things any easier, either.
As she’d pointed out.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Sorry. Had to take care of a few things before I could get away,” he replied.
She stepped closer. “No, I mean...why are we here?”
He yanked on the leather gloves he’d taken from the door of his truck. “I told you. We’re going to drill this well.”
She studied him closely.“Why?”
“Because it’s my fault you lost Ben,” he said. “I feel responsible. So I’m going to make it possible for you to get this done.”
She narrowed her eyes, didn’t seem to be buying it. “What about all the things you’re supposed to be doing for your own business?”
He’d visited his drilling crew, who were fulfilling a maintenance contract with the county, to make sure they had everything they needed. He’d have to be available by phone in case they ran into trouble. But Stuart wouldn’t know he wasn’t out visiting jobsites, trying to garner new business or picking up supplies. Hendrix was more of a manager these days than an active driller, which gave him plenty of autonomy. And Stuart would be busy managing the other drill crew.
Still, his uncle would probably hear he’d helped Ellen at some point. How would he react? Would he tell Lynn?
Chances were better that he’d quietly pull Hendrix aside to see what was going on or completely ignore the gossip. Neither one of them liked to upset Lynn. “I may have to stop here and there to handle various details, but with any luck I’ll be able to squeeze this in around my own stuff.”
She made no move to get started. She just stood there watching him as though he might surprise her by yanking off the sheep’s mask she must’ve felt he was wearing to reveal the wolf inside.
“Come on. Let’s go get your water truck.” He gestured at her attire. Although she was wearing a hard hat, work boots and jeans—all acceptable clothing for their line of work—she was in a tank top, which might help with the heat but would do nothing to protect her arms. “And you need to put on a shirt with long sleeves.”
“You realize you could’ve stolen this whole job,” she said, ignoring everything he’d said.
He gave her a pointed look. “You mean... I could’ve stolen itback?”
Her eyebrows slid up. “I bid on it fair and square.”
“You undercut me,” he said. “But I forgive you.”
She stepped back when he approached the rig—probably so he could get around her without brushing against her. “Why?”
“I’m not entirely sure of that myself,” he admitted and stopped to survey the ground with a critical eye. “This is where we’re putting the well?”
Finally distracted enough to turn her attention elsewhere, she kicked a dirt clod, sending it rolling before it fell apart. “It’s where Jay said he wants it.”
Hendrix clicked his tongue. “He set on that?”
Her forehead wrinkled in consternation. “Why wouldn’t he be?”
“I drilled the well on the next property over. Ran into a lot of sand, and this looks to be in the same culvert.”
“How much sand?” she asked.
