A Winter's Rose by Erica Spindler

notice, and he spent the entire meal flirting with her and chitchatting about common acquaintances.
    Finally, when the waitress had brought their coffee, Big Earl cleared his throat and directed his attention to Jackson. “Came down to talk to you about your upcomin’ trip to Washington.” He pulled out a cigar and after Bentley nodded, he lit it. “Don’t like it, Reese. Don’t like it one bit.”
    â€œSo I gathered.” Jackson leaned forward in his chair. “But I don’t understand your concern. The double-hull legislation does not directly affect your business, Big Earl.”
    Earl puffed on the cigar and narrowed his eyes. “Anything that affects Oil and Gas affects me. I want you to lay off. That’s not a request.”
    Jackson tossed his napkin aside. “I can’t do that. This is too important an issue. In the long run requiring all tankers to have double hulls will not only save the world another incident like the one in the Prince William Sound, but will save Big Oil millions in clean-up from such a spill. In the end, everybody wins.”
    â€œI’m sorry, boy, I just don’t see it that way.”
    â€œYou know, Big Earl,” Bentley murmured, laying her hand on the older man’s arm, “when you and Bitsy got engaged, there was a lot of talk. There were folks who thought it just wasn’t right because of the difference in your ages.” She squeezed his arm gently to lessen the sting of her words. “But you and Bitsy, well, you did what you knew was right. You followed your heart. That’s all Jackson’s doing.
Doing what he believes is right.”
    â€œI’m not arguing with that, gal. But I’ve got to protect the people who fuel my business.”
    â€œBig Earl,” she admonished, fluttering her eyelashes and leaning a fraction closer to him. “You’re a self-made man, a maverick. Nobody gave you anything, you had to work for every dime. What would you have done if some big gas company had come along and told you that you couldn’t pump on Wednesdays?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “The Big Earl I know would have spit in their eye.” She lowered her voice in reverence. “You’re a Texan. So am I. All we’re trying to do is save this great state for good Texans like you and me.”
    He cracked a smile. “This is the greatest state in the union. I’d defy any man—or woman—to tell me differently.”
    â€œThere you are,” Bentley murmured as if he’d spoken the Gospel. “But if we’re not careful, Earl, there won’t even be any good fishing left in Texas. Why, if we’re not careful, we’ll have to go clear to
Arkansas just to catch a fish.”
    â€œI do enjoy my fishing trips.” The older man studied the tip of his cigar for a moment, then shifted his gaze to Jackson. “You fish, Reese?”
    â€œGrew up fishing,” Jackson murmured. “A lot of those spots are gone now. The best spots.”
    Earl narrowed his eyes, then crushed out the stogie. “You two present a convincing argument. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll think about it.”
    During the ride to Baysafe, Jackson said little. Bentley kept up a stream of chitchat with Earl, and when he dropped them off, she promised to get together with Bitsy soon.
    She and Jackson watched Big Earl’s Cadillac drive away, and the moment it was out of sight, Jackson grabbed her arm. She winced at his grip, but met his gaze evenly.
    â€œDon’t ever do that again,” he said, his voice sharp with fury. “Because if you do, no amount of money will keep me from wringing your beautiful neck.”
    Without another word, he dropped his hand and strode into the office. She followed him, trembling with outrage. Jill took one look at them and ducked behind a newspaper.
    Bentley grabbed his arm, forcing him to face her.