by Sable Hunter
Another shiver made her tremble. Cato glanced around, but she couldn’t see anything amiss. There wasn’t another soul in sight. She shrugged her shoulders and hugged herself. “Guess someone walked over my grave,” she spoke, knowing the words sounded as unsure as she felt. As she’d been researching the area, an article about area ghost hunters had caught her eye. They’d investigated Dead Man’s Hole and supposedly recorded EVP’s, the voices of the deceased caught on tape. Cato smiled, remembering, because the ghost voices they’d captured had been more concerned with going to Dairy Queen and getting out of the rain—not a murderer or a dead Civil War soldier had even shown up. How scary could a ghost be who just wanted a DQ Blizzard?
Still, something just didn’t feel right. She got down on her hands and knees with a flashlight and peered through the hole in the top of the grate. There wasn’t really anything to see but sharp rocks, a ledge to one side and what looked to be a never ending inky blackness. She stood up and took out her iPad to make some notes, concentrating on what could be done to improve the site and make it more conducive for research and visitors. There was no seating and the rocks a person had to walk over were large and uneven. Turned ankles and other injuries were highly possible. The historical marker gave a minimal amount of information, but Cato thought an interactive marker which could work with a person’s cell phone would be helpful. It could tie in this site with other places of Civil War significance.
After scouting out the territory, she started back to the car and jumped when she noticed something slither across her path. A snake! Cato froze and let the reptile go on its own way. Dang, if she wasn’t mistaken, it was a rattlesnake! A good size one to boot. “Ick, time to vamoose.” There was probably a snake den down in Dead Man’s Hole. Cato shivered. She was much more afraid of snakes than ghosts.
Gingerly, she made her way back to the jeep, watching where she stepped. She refused to let the snake completely unnerve her. Cato was getting used to being on her own, but she still didn’t like to encounter wild animals. Gosh, maybe she just needed to stand her ground and face down big, scary things. Heck, it might work—even on Heath McCoy.
Just the thought of the grouchy, gorgeous hunk made her quiver. Last night she’d fantasized about him and touched herself until she came hard enough to shake the bed. Cato smiled, wondering if he’d spared her a single thought since they’d parted. How would he react when he saw her again? She knew how she’d respond to his nearness—just like the last time—her nipples would swell, her pulse would pound and her pink parts would tingle with anticipation.
Climbing into her vehicle, she fastened the seat belt and started the engine. Cato had one more stop before she headed home for the day and this excursion was to a place which had fascinated her for years—a location which could potentially be the lost San Saba mine. Of course the region she wanted to explore might not be the San Saba mine. After all, it wasn’t called lost for nothing. But she’d poured over old documents, diaries of men who had gleaned information from James Bowie and from old Spanish land records.
Of course, better minds than her had searched for it, everyone from the novelist O’Henry to the owner of the Borden milk company. But Cato felt she had pieced together enough info to make for a grand adventure. Either way, it would be fun.
The only problem was that she had to get permission from the current land owners. Making money off the quest was not her mission. She was much more interested in the mystery and history itself. Heading deeper into the hill country, she went down one ranch road after another. The cave complex she wanted to check out covered a pretty large area and according to the records she’d read, more than one owner controlled the land. The section she was about to enter was called The Highlands, a fairly large ranch in the area. It had changed hands several times during the last hundred years or so. To her chagrin, Cato had been so busy getting her facts together that she hadn’t traced who The Highlands belonged to presently. Oh well, she wouldn’t be there long nor would she bother anything. Surely the property holders wouldn’t mind her just looking around for educational purposes.
Checking her map, she returned her gaze to the horizon. The caves in question were north of the Enchanted Rock formation, but were considered to still be part of the Llano Uplift, a roughly circular dome of exposed Precambrian rock, primarily granite. This region was considered the mineral hotbed of Texas and was rich in many varieties; from quartz to garnets to topaz, to silver and gold, which had provided a draw since time immemorial to all who hungered to discover buried treasure.
Gazing out at the grand scenery, she thought it reminded her of the Moab, Utah area. The colors were amazing—oranges, reds, pinks, all against a bluer than blue sky. Spotting some foothills up ahead that looked familiar, she pulled off on the side of the road underneath a big cedar, parking where the jeep wouldn’t be easily seen from the road. Casually, she glanced around. There was no traffic, so she climbed out and locked the door, stuffing her keys in her pocket. Why did she feel guilty? She wasn’t doing anything wrong, much.
This time when she crawled through the barb wire she got hung, one of the sharp prongs snagging her white blouse and scraping the skin of her back. “Ow!” she yelped. Wiggling around, she finally got her body through the strands. If it wasn’t her boobs getting caught, it was her rear end. Hell, guess this meant she’d have to go on a diet again—not that it did a lot of good. A giggle of frustration bubbled out. “Whew!”
Cato stood up and dusted off her jeans, picking off a few grass burrs. Full of anticipation, she stood and surveyed the horizon. A car whizzed past. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she hurried on past a stand of mesquite. She smiled, wondering why she felt like she was on a stealth mission. She had to step carefully because the ground was strewn with rocks and a few armadillo holes. That was the last thing she needed, to step into a hole and break her ankle. Why, no one would find her here till doomsday! Phone reception in this neck of the woods was negligible at best.
Glancing ahead, she saw some outcroppings of rock and her blood pressure escalated. Maybe this was it! Either way, it was definitely worth exploring. Easing forward, she saw a small gorge which would be Sandy Creek. In her imagination she could see settlers panning for gold and if she squinted her eyes she could see Mexican explorers fighting off a band of Comanche or soldiers with old maps trying to discover where their predecessors had uncovered priceless veins of silver or gold.
Cato was so excited she could hardly walk. Things like this were what she lived for. Year before last she had helped locate a rusty chest half full of gold coins buried on a farmer’s swampy land just west of De Quincy, Louisiana. Rumors had run rampant for years that the old man had unearthed some of Pirate Lafitte’s treasure and just kept it quiet. Anytime he needed money, he had it. But he didn’t squander it or flash it around. In the fall when the kids needed new shoes, he’d take a walk into the swamp with one of his dogs and come back with a few gold coins. When people would try to follow him, he would walk in circles and lose them. Since his property was awash in alligators and poisonous snakes as big as your leg, he didn’t get many trespassers. Couple the wild animals with the pit bull he kept, Old Boudreaux didn’t get much trouble.
Old Boudreaux died, however, and his wife and kids had no clue if the story was true or where the gold was buried, if there was any. The old coot had been closed mouth about the whole thing. A few months after he passed, his wife succumbed to pressure to sell and the new owners wanted to know the truth. The Culture Center was brought in and the research team had included Cato. Lafitte was another figure she’d studied in depth. And while she didn’t believe any treasure near De Quincy originated with the infamous pirate, there were a few more possibilities such as a cache of lost Mexican gold hidden when the soldiers were on the run from the Royalist army.
Cato had used her research, offered up a little prayer and set out. The idea that Lafitte had buried treasure was an intriguing one, but she had concluded that Jean and
his brother Pierre stayed in so much legal trouble that they paid their fortune out to lawyers instead of burying it in the sand. But her instincts had paid off. Cato merely found out who got custody of Boudreaux’s dog. With a little bit of charm, she borrowed him and took him for a walk on the bayou near the old house place. Sure enough, he’d took off through the palmettos and flopped over near a sandbar. Cato had been patient and soon the dog had started digging. She helped. After about a half hour, she’d unearthed a rusty strongbox full of gold.
After the Culture Center had studied the find, the proceeds had been given to the state of Louisiana and Savannah had personally seen to it that half of the monetary value was given to Boudreaux’s widow and children. The Mexican minted gold eagles had dated back to the early 1800s and had been the first of their kind found in that part of the state. Cato had been proud of the role she’d played. And now she was after much bigger game.
There had been talk of lost silver and gold mines around the Enchanted Rock region ever since legendary Sam Maverick, signer of the Texas Declaration of Independence, had purchased it in 1844. He was the man whose very name coined the term ‘maverick,’ since he steadfastly refused to brand any of his cattle. His interest and belief in the riches of the region found its way into many books written at that time by speculators and adventurers such as Stephen F. Austin. Cato had read and digested every scrap of information she could find. Any mine she found would be stupendous. She didn’t care if there was silver in it or gold. As long as she could tie the cave back to some of the history of the area, it would be a notable find.
As she stepped carefully, watching out for more snakes, she saw something glimmering in the dirt. What in the world? It couldn’t be this easy—most likely it was fool’s gold or a piece of buried quartz. Still…
Cato bent over to dig up the interesting rock and when she did, something nudged her in the back and she almost jumped out of her skin. “What?” She scrambled around, trying to get away from the ghost of a spelunker or perhaps the irate deed holder of this amazing slice of Texas.
But when she managed to get a few feet away and looked around, she was face to nose with a huge cow. “Gracious, you scared me!” Then she got a better look at her assailant and was horrified to find that it wasn’t a cow, it was a bull with horns spreading out at least three feet on either side of his head. “Go away!” she yelled.
Apparently, she didn’t intimidate the bull as much as he did her, because instead of retreating, he advanced. “What do you want?” she asked in desperation. “I don’t have any hay or whatever it is that you eat!” She just hoped he didn’t have a taste for Louisiana girls who’d been sun-kissed by a hot Texas day.
“Get back, you monster!” Cato tried to push on the animal’s nose, but he blew out his breath on her. She wished she could hear—was he grunting or was he growling? She couldn’t be sure.
“Great,” she whispered. “How am I going to get out of this?”
Cato didn’t have the answer to that question. All she could think about was running. The big bovine jerked his head up as if he was listening. And then to her horror, he began to paw the ground. “Oh, shit.”
Desperately, she looked around for a way out. There was no way she could make it back to the jeep or she didn’t think she could. Surveying her surroundings, her gaze landed on a tree she could possibly climb. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but maybe she could wait the behemoth out and he’d go away on his own and she could get back to exploring…nah, that ship had probably sailed. She’d be too nervous to look around now. Not that she was giving up—oh, no. Cato fully intended to come back with reinforcements. Perhaps her boss, Floyd Redford, would come back with her.
Now for the fancy moves.
Taking a deep breath, she faked a move—left—right. When the bull turned his head one way, she broke the other and took off like the devil himself was after her.
Meanwhile…
Heath let Tempest have his head. There was nothing better than riding a spirited horse, unless it was a spirited woman. “Whoa.” He pulled back on the reins as the stallion danced around.
Screech. Screech. Screech.
Heath stopped to let a small ground squirrel cross in front of him. And swear to God, the little creature stopped and turned around to fuss at him, raising up on its hind legs, front paw tilted up—just a chattering. He snorted. Damn little thing reminded him of Cato Vincent, except Cato was a billion times sexier. But she had moxie, just like this small rodent. “Yeah, yammer on. You’re full of prunes.”
At Heath’s chastisement, the ballsy little varmint vamoosed. He smiled. Things were looking up. Jaxson’s leg was healing nicely. Philip had finally succeeded in getting Holly McBride to admit they hadn’t ever dated so the prosecution’s theory that Smith was killed in a fit of jealousy wasn’t going to hold water. And, he had something to look forward to tonight. Jimmy was picking him up and they were going out on the town together. Being with Jimmy Dushku always made him feel better.
Heath’s life was well-ordered, conservative and family oriented. His best friend was an international playboy, a multimillionaire and knew everybody worth knowing. Why Jimmy hung out with someone boring like him, he didn’t know. At least Jimmy was coming to the BBQ. His presence would make the rest of it more bearable.
Only a week away…
A week is a long time to wait when you dread something so much.
“Shoo!”
Shoo?
“What the fuck?” Someone was nearby. On his land. A female someone. And it didn’t sound like either one of his sisters. In fact…hell! He was imagining things. Just because he’d thought the squirrel reminded him of Cato, now he was hearing her everywhere. Shit. What did that mean?
“Giddy-up.” He headed up toward the foothills. Whoever it was, they’d better have a damn good explanation. McCoys didn’t take kindly to people just coming on to their land without good cause.
“Please go away. I’ll bring you back a treat. I promise.”
Damn. Surely not. Heath slowed Tempest down. If he could’ve coaxed the horse into tiptoeing, he would have. What met his eyes should’ve caused him to laugh out loud if wasn’t for the familiarity of that attractive profile.
T-Bone, Jaxson’s old pet bull, had a woman treed. Yep, actually treed. And the closer he got, the prettier she got. Today her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a little whale spout pony tail that bobbed every time she bent over to negotiate with the bull.
“You’re a pretty bull, but I’m scared of you. Please leave.”
Good Lord! He let out a long hard sigh. How in the hell had this happened? How had she found him? Well, there was only one way to find out. Edging Tempest forward, he yelled at T-Bone. “Get outta here, go find a cow to romance and leave this little heifer alone. She’s trouble!” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but the sentiment stood.
Riding up closer to her, he edged between her and the bull. As soon as he came within her eyeshot she did something totally unexpected. “Heath, you’re here! Save me!” Before he knew what was happening, she launched herself at him and he caught her handily. Throwing her arms around his neck, she began to rain kisses all over his face. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“Well, I’m certainly surprised to see you.” He realized she didn’t hear him. She still had her face too close to his.
“Oh, oh, I jumped on you. I’m too heavy, did I squish you?” Then to add fuel to the already burning fire in his body, she proceeded to feel him up, checking for nonexistent injuries.
Even though it was against every primal male impulse he possessed, Heath refrained from ravishing her. She was cradled in his arms, sitting sidesaddle, still clinging to him like the kudzu vines which were consuming southern climes at an alarming rate. Untangling himself from her embrace, he pushed her back far enough so she could see him speak. “No, you didn’t hurt me. Damn, hold on a minute. Would you care to enlighten me as to why you’re trespassing on my property?”
It seemed like comprehension finally dawned, her eyebrows went up. “You own Highlands?”
He nodded. “And, of course, you didn’t know this. Right?”
She didn’t need to possess the sense of hearing to catch the sarcasm in his voice. “No, I did not, thank you very much.” She scooted back and almost fell off his horse, flailing around until he caught her to his hard chest.
Heath tried to ignore the luscious tits pressed against him. “Don’t give me that, you tracked me down, followed me. You knew I’d be here.”
Irritation flashed through Cato. “Don’t flatter yourself, Sundance. I’m here as part of my job.”
Heath sneered. “Job? What kind of job do you have that requires you to go on another person’s land and harass their livestock?”
Okay, enough was enough. She got right in his face. “I wasn’t the one doing the harassing. Your vicious bull attacked me!”
“That bull is a big pet. All he wanted was some loving.” All things needed loving, even him. Although he’d die before he admitted that reality to anyone, much less this annoying female—never mind that he wanted her more than oxygen.
“He has a strange way of showing it,” she countered. “And the job I have is with the Texas Cultural Center. I just left Dead Man’s Hole over near Marble Falls and I came this way looking for possible locations for the lost San Saba mine.”
If Cato thought her words would appease him, she was wrong. His face darkened like a thundercloud. “I’m sick of hearing about that stupid mine. My brother is up on murder charges and somehow it’s tied to that fairytale mine.”
What he said took Cato by surprise. “What? I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She placed her hand on his chest. The realization that she was still sitting in his lap atop of a big horse hit her. “Maybe I should just get down and leave you alone.”
