When Tomorrow Comes (5 page)

The two-hour return flight seemed like fifteen minutes to Cait. Louie perched himself between their seats and told story after story. The cabin vibrated with good, healthy laughter, the sort of laughter that Cait knew would help heal still-tender wounds. She was acutely aware each time Dominic’s gaze rested oh her. Each time, she blushed. Something had happened between them…something intangible. She had not meant to cry, not meant to be so open about her feelings. Normally, she could cap them just as a drilling rig could cap’ an oil surge.

But Louie was more than a friend. He was like a father to her, and she would be eternally grateful for his care. New hope surged through her. Now that Louie was there, she would have at least one ally.

After landing back at the Rio Colorado, Dominic excused himself. Cait told Pedro where to put the baggage and ran to catch up”.

“Dominic!” she called breathlessly, coming to a halt as he turned. She could barely make out his features in the darkness. “Thanks for taking time out of your schedule. I—”

“No need for thanks. I’ll do it when you need me, Cait.” He smiled absently, resting his hands on his narrow hips. “That’s a good name for you, you know. Wild Irish Rose. A lovely red rose with thorns.”

She smiled simply, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m afraid all you’ve seen since I’ve been here is my thorny side.”

He shook his head. “No. You’re a woman of many, many facets. I’ve just been privileged to see another side of you.”

She folded her arms against her chest. “Oh, yes, the crybaby side. It doesn’t happen often. Louie was…” She halted, biting her lower lip. “He was on the gas platform when the accident occurred. If—if it hadn’t been for him, Dominic, I’d never have been able to pull myself together afterward.” She shrugged painfully and managed a broken smile. “You see, that’s why I cried today at the airport. He brought back so many memories…but good ones, too. He stood by me when I needed someone.”

Dominic seemed to lose some of his surliness, the harsh lines of his face softening with understanding. “I see,” he murmured, looking down at her. “You’re lucky you have people like that who care deeply for you.”

She gave him a questioning glance. “Surely you do, too? No one can go through life alone. We all need someone sometime…” Her voice trailed off as she saw his features harden once again.

“The only kind of women I know are heartless ones. I’m afraid my experiences differ greatly from your own.”

Cait shook her head. She wanted to stop the coldness growing between them. She wanted to confide in him, wanted him to confide in her. “But family…your mother or father must have provided you with that sort of emotional support—”

He inhaled deeply and stepped back into the shadows. “My mother died when I was five, and my father only wanted me to follow family tradition by becoming a surgeon. Instead I became the black sheep of the family.” He stared defiantly into the Patagonian night. “You see that Scottish gorse growing out there on the sides of those barren hills, Cait?”

“Yes?” she almost whispered.

“I’m like that brush, starved for water, grown wild and tough in order to survive. I kick around Argentina just like that brush is pushed by the winds of the Andes along this desert region.” His stormy eyes clouded. “Maybe that’s why I find you so refreshing, so different. You respond openly to other people’s emotions. Maybe I’m jealous of your relationship with Louie. I’d like to share that—” Without finishing the sentence he turned and stalked away, leaving her standing alone in the darkness. She could almost hear the unspoken words: “I would like to share that with you.”

As if to herald the difficult day ahead, the sun at dawn was blood-red. Its long, searching rays warmed the cold land slowly.

Over her first cup of coffee Cait sat with Louie Henning and Campos, who sipped maté. Their heads bowed, they were studying several sheets of facts and figures that Cait had gathered together. The Argentinian tapped the sum total at the bottom of the last page. “In my estimation, Señor Henning—”

“Call me Louie,” the other man growled, punching a new set of numbers into his calculator.

Campos cleared his throat nervously. “
Siî,
Louie. The fact sheets…they show a slow decline that is due to Señor Parker’s illness.” His voice became colored with feeling as he added, “Plus the union problems.”

Cait watched the cost controller through partly lowered lashes. It was as if Campos hadn’t even spoken. She could always tell when Louie had discovered something wrong. His brow furrowed like neat rows of tilled soil. The silence lengthened in the office, and

Campos cleared his throat twice more, then rose, to get a second cup of maté.

“Cait, darlin’, do me a favor.”

“Sure, Louie.”

“Roust those supers out of their bunks early this morning. I want to talk to each and every one of them. I need a basic overlay from each department before I can match figures to reasons.”

Cait glanced over at Campos. “Jorge, will you get in touch with them?”

“
Si.
Of course. I’ll call them right away.”

They watched Campos disappear into the next office. Louie nudged Cait and motioned toward his scribbled figures. “That ain’t no three-month decline, darlin’,” he muttered. “Somethin’s wrong.”

“You always did have a nose for trouble.”

“And didn’t you think his reasons were weak?” Louie challenged.

Cait shrugged, sipping the coffee. “Call it a hunch…maybe nothing more than that. Cirre has been defensive. Jorge has been helpful, if a little prejudiced.”

Louie fluffed the stack of papers together with finality. “In what way?”

“Toward Dominic.” Cait surprised herself by using his first name in such a casual manner. But Louie was a friend and she felt she could drop her managerial pretense with him.

“He’s a leader,” Louie stated flatly.

“Yes. Also someone who questions orders or raises hell when his end of the project isn’t being supplied properly.”

Henning’s thin eyebrows moved upward. “The trouble goes back to our purchasing fella, Cirre, doesn’t it?”

“Looks like it. The replacement crane sheaves were ordered six months ago, and were placed on back order twice. We just ordered more from an outside supplier. They’ll arrive by truck in two days. Plus, much of the equipment around here seems to be machinery bought second-hand.”

Louie grimaced. “We’re off to a bad start to begin with, then. As my old granny used to say. “New project, new machinery.” That way, equipment is insured and under warranty, and in the long run it costs less to maintain and run.”

Cait grinned. “You had a smart old granny.”

Louie chortled. “Irish grandmas ain’t too bad, either, darlin’.”

She groaned. “I don’t know. This job may be the death of me yet!”

“Ah, darlin’, in this job, like all the rest, you need a lot of bull to soothe ruffled feathers. Some call it diplomacy.” He lost his elfin smile. “You seem to think a lot of this Tobbar fellow. Would he level with me if I pulled him aside and asked his version of what’s going on at the site? Unofficially, that is.”

Cait leaned back, deep in thought. She wanted to blurt out that of course Dominic was trustworthy. But did she really know that? He’d been involved in every major squabble that had arisen on the site since she had arrived. Only recently she had mollified him by ordering the crane parts. It was funny how something so insignificant could tame the most ferocious jaguar.

Louie squinted at her. “Give me your gut feeling,” he demanded.

“Yes. I trust him. But he’s damn touchy and overly sensitive. I don’t know if he’d cooperate with you, me or anyone. All he wants is to build that bridge and bring it in on time.”

“Can’t blame a guy for that, darlin’. You know how some civils get when things go badly—even if it ain’t their fault.”

She shook her head, frowning. “That’s just it, Louie. Cirre, Campos and some of the union stewards are all saying he’s responsible for the delays. I can’t disprove it at this point, but the evidence is in his favor.” She gave him a troubled look. “That’s why I needed you down here. I don’t have time to sort out this mess, but I need to know who I can trust. If you can weed out the troublemakers, I can slot them into a powerless position and we can move this project forward.”

Henning smiled sympathetically and patted her arm. “Leave the investigation to me. In two days or so, we’ll have some concrete answers. Don’t forget about that bigwig conference in BA on Monday,” he reminded her. “I’m aiming to have the bulk of the research done by then so you can take substantial evidence with you.”

She grimaced. “God, I’ve been trying to forget about that! All the top Miron officials are going to be there for our progress report.” She rose, running her hand across her hair in a distracted motion.

“Who’s going from here?”

“Campos, Cirre and myself. They’re leaving tomorrow night. I’m flying into BA late Sunday evening.”

“Don’t you want to fly in Friday night with them and get a taste of the city?”

“I’d love to, but I have work to do.”

Henning shrugged his shoulders. “The way Tobbar looks at you, I’d say let him take you in some weekend, darlin’. Never know, you might have a better time than you think.” Cait stared. “What? Louie, what on earth prompted you to say that?”

“I’m fifty-nine years old, my wild Irish rose, and I saw the look in his eye. The man definitely has an interest in you…or haven’t you noticed?” he drawled.

Her heart thumped once, as if to underscore Louie’s observation. It was true. She felt more alive when Dominic was around. She saw a world of color and vibrancy that she thought had died with Dave. Dominic made her feel good about life again, and she looked forward to their next meeting. Still, she wasn’t ready to acknowledge her feelings to anyone but herself. Louie’s grin infuriated her, and she placed her hands belligerently on her hips. “You must be seeing things.”

He laughed. “Maybe you don’t want to see the truth, darlin’. But, as always, you look lovely when you blush.” She joined in his laughter. “Louie, I don’t know why you never married. You do a girl so much good. Flattery will get you everywhere with me.” Some of her merriment fled. “And to tell me truth, I can use some right now,” she admitted softly.

He nodded, gauging her keenly. “Let the past go, Rose,” he returned quietly.

“What?”

“Darlin’, you’re still carryin’ a torch for Dave. He’s gone, and you gotta put the past behind you.”

An aching lump formed in her throat, and she tried to swallow. It felt as if a knife were scoring her heart. Hot, scalding tears crowded in her eyes, and she compressed her lips to fight back from crying openly. “Damn you, Louie Henning,” she whispered painfully.

“I love you enough to be honest, darlin’.” He walked over, slipping his arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick hug. “You’re a team person, Cait. Being out of marriage is like being the only pony in a two-horse hitch.”

“I suppose you expect me to jump right back in?” she demanded.

“No need to be angry, darlin’. I’m just sayin’ to open your eyes a little and notice the signals that men are giving you, that’s all. I didn’t say you had to marry the first fella that comes along. But at least get back in the water. Don’t stand on the shore and watch life pass you by.” He waved his finger at her as he halted at the door. “There’s nothing written that says a second marriage can’t be as good as or better than the first. Remember that.”

She managed a small smile. “One of your granny’s old sayings?”

Henning grinned. “That i’s, darlin’. Well, I’m off to play the inquisitor to your supers. I’ll tag you at lunchtime.”

Only some of Cait’s irritation had faded by the time Henning walked into her office near noon. It was hot and sticky and she was pacing like a caged cat. She was still upset over another confrontation with Campos earlier that morning. “Let’s take a ride down to the river, darlin’, and get you out of this hot box,” he suggested.

Grabbing her hard hat and bag lunch, she followed him without a word. As she drove toward the inviting Rio Colorado, she began to calm down.

“Well, did you drop the ax?” Louie asked.

“Yes. Campos was screaming.” Cait blew out a long breath. “God, Louie, I don’t know if I’m up to all this.”

“You’re doin’ fine, Rose. This site only needs two shifts, not three. We both know that.”

“Not according to Jorge. Good Lord, he was saying all the unions will strike in protest and—”

“They got no basis for a strike. The contract covers shift work.” Henning waved his finger at her. “It specifically states that management has the power to decide how many shifts. So quit being a worrywart.” He grinned. “Ah, this is a lovely area, isn’t it?”

For the first time she noticed the lush line of tropical plants and trees that graced the riverbank. Pulling the truck to a halt near the bridge-building operations, they got out and padded through the dust to a shady eucalyptus tree. Cait sat down with a flop, threw off the hard hat and leaned back against the rough bark, closing her eyes. New sounds, soothing sounds, invaded her tense body. The chirp of the ever-present hornero, a bird common to the area, erased Campos’s screaming from her mind. The gentle breeze dried the perspiration that made her shirt cling to her body.

“Here, you need to eat, darlin’. You’re gettin’ too skinny.”

Cait took the peanut butter sandwich he offered, and reluctantly sat up, scanning the dappled sunlit river that moved past them like a silent blue-green ribbon. “It’s so peaceful,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Henning agreed, biting hungrily into his sandwich. She tasted hers and made a face. “I’m not hungry, Louie.”

“Eat it anyway. You’re just upset right now. You still need food. Especially under these conditions, darlin’.” He winked.

Cait concentrated on eating.

“Well, look who’s comin’.” Henning waved and motioned toward Dominic Tobbar, who had just climbed out of his truck.

The peanut butter stuck in her throat, and Cait couldn’t swallow for a moment. She stared openly as Dominic walked easily toward them. The fluid grace of his body reminded her again of a stalking jaguar. His shirtsleeves were rolled high on his arms, the collar open at the throat, displaying the column of his neck and tendrils of black hair. She swallowed convulsively as he joined them under the tree. Her heart was hammering, and she was thoroughly irritated with herself at her silly reaction. Frowning, she barely acknowledged his nod.

“Glad you could join us,” Henning was saying equably.

Dominic dug in his own brown paper bag and pulled out three sandwiches. Cait stared down at them. He offered one to her.

“Uh, no,” she stammered, feeling a blush sweep across her neck and into her face.

“He’s still growin’, Cait,” Louie said with a laugh.

“I guess,” she growled, sitting back and trying to ignore both of them. Damn Louie, she thought. The peace she had so desperately wanted was shattered.

Cait gazed longingly back at the river to try to recapture the feeling. But she was too aware of Dominic’s friendly appraisal. His eyes were now pale, cinnamon-brown, and she found herself mesmerized by his expression. Slowly she relaxed beneath his warming gaze.

All too soon, Louie rose, dusting off his pants. “Well, I forgot I’ve set a twelve-fifteen appointment. I’ll see you later.”

“Louie!” Cait shot him a stricken look.

“Now, darlin’, Dominic will keep you company while I’m gone.”

She gritted her teeth, glaring up at the controller. “I’m going to shoot you, Louie Henning, when I get you alone,” she promised.

He was gone far too quickly for her, and she nervously dug in the sack for the fruit. It turned out to be an orange, and she peeled it nervously.

“Bad morning?” Dominic asked.

“If you must know, yes.”

“Anything I can do to make it go better?”

She felt compelled to talk, but also giddy—and afraid. Actually, she shouldn’t discuss her job with him, another employee. But since when had Dominic ever acted in that capacity? As Louie emphatically stated, he was a leader in every sense of the word, and that thought inspired Cait to confide in him.

“Oh, that damn Campos is such a crybaby. You’d think I’d just cut off his right hand, by canceling the third shift this morning. Good Lord!”

“You cut third?”

“Yes. It had to be done. They weren’t making up the time differential.”

Dominic stretched out in front of her like a large cat after a meal. He chewed on a sprig of grass. “That was Campos’s idea, you know. To put in a third shift.”

“Yes. Don’t I know it.” Her nostrils flared with anger. “Dominic, I just wish everyone in supervisory capacity could act like adults instead of children. It’s so infuriating, and it takes every last ounce of my patience to remain cool.”

He smiled lazily, studying her through his thick dark lashes. “I finally see where you put that Irish temper of yours,” he teased.

Cait met his gaze, caressed by the unspoken message it conveyed, then gave a little laugh of self-defeat. “You haven’t seen anything yet. There have been times when I’ve had to leave a site, drive into the jungle or along some deserted beach and just scream.”

“Let me know when you need to do that and I’ll come along and scream with you.”

She sobered. “Yes, I’m sure you’ve got some bottled anger, too.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone.” He rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on. I want to show you something.” Cait stared at him, openmouthed. His fingers were long, and mere were thick calluses on his palms. She shocked herself by allowing her hand to fall into his.

His fingers closed firmly about her flesh, the contact so electrifying that she scarcely felt herself being pulled effortlessly upward. Memories of Dave’s touch, of his gentle strength, flowed poignantly to the surface. Reluctantly she pulled her hand free and stood only inches away from Dominic’s masculine body. An inner part of her seemed to melt, and she felt breathless. She followed him hesitantly toward the river.