How to Rope a McCoy (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  Cato was glad to find herself alone. There was no one in the house at all that she could see. Going to her room, she went to the closet and took out her suitcase, taking the time to drape a towel over the monitor, just in case. For a few seconds, she just stared at her clothes as if she was expecting them to express an opinion. Picking up the little black dress she’d been planning to wear to the dance tonight, she jerked it off the hangar. This little number had come from J C Penny and had set her back seventy-two dollars. When she’d packed it, Cato had envisioned Heath seeing her in it and thinking she was beautiful and sexy. Now she realized that the hand towels in the bathrooms probably cost more than her cheap knock-off.

  Holding up the dress, she folded it and placed it in the suitcase. Then she took out a shirt and folded it and reaching behind her, placed it on top of the dress. A pair of jeans was next, except when she looked down, the suitcase was empty. What the heck? Whirling around, she found Heath unpacking her suitcase as fast as she was packing it. “Give me that.” She snatched the stuff back up and slammed it over in the case, not nearly as neat the second time.

  Again, he pulled her clothes out and laid them on the bed. Taking her by the arms, he turned her so she could see him clearly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Keeping her cool, she thought, Cato graciously held out her hand. “I want to thank you for a lovely weekend, but I think it’s time for me to leave.”

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “Are you sure?” She crossed her arms under her breasts as she challenged him. “You are busy, and I don’t blame you for that.” She backed down a bit. “Look, I don’t think I can be around you and pretend we’re—”

  “Cato, I don’t want you to pretend.” Heath put his hands on his hips.

  “But if I stay, and you pay attention to me, your family will see us together. And if you ignore me completely…I don’t think I can handle that either.”

  “I’m not going to ignore you.” Heath pulled her to him.

  “It would be better if we just waited till our first rendezvous,” she mumbled into his shirt. “Unless you’ve had second thoughts.”

  Kissing the top of her head, Heath eased her a step or two away so they could talk. “I hadn’t had second thoughts. Why don’t we go on the trail ride and have a good time with everyone and then go to the dance and hang out a while? We can be friendly, just not demonstrative. We can save the good stuff until we get behind closed doors.”

  Feeling a bit mischievous, Cato asked. “Can I dance with other people, since you don’t like to dance?”

  “No, I’ll dance enough to satisfy you.”

  “I don’t know, I’m pretty insatiable.” She tried to tease, wanting to turn back the clock to the way they were last night.

  “I’ll satisfy you when…” he started, but she interrupted.

  “I know, when we get behind closed doors.” The lyrics to the old Charlie Rich song came to mind. Cato remembered Tessa’s dad playing it on his car stereo. “I never intended to hang on you in a crowd. I can be a lady.”

  “God, I know, I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t. I apologize,” Heath said, meaning it. “What we do in private is our business.”

  The lyrics kept playing in her mind. She put her arms around his neck. “When we’re alone, do you want me to make you proud you’re a man?”

  Heath ran his fingers through her hair, caressing the back of her neck. “Parts of me are standing pretty proud right now.”

  Cato smiled and stood on tiptoe, biting her lower lip. “Do we have time to do something about that?”

  “Heath! Heath! Where are you? It’s time to go!”

  He sighed. “My brother is looking for me. Gotta go.” Heath could hear Jaxson banging on his door. “I’m going through the connecting door into my room.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll meet you downstairs in five.”

  “Okay.” Her eyes followed him as he left. She didn’t bother to lock the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, she sorted through her emotions. What Heath had done hurt her feelings, but he’d been hurt worse by someone else. Once upon a time he had saved her, maybe now was her chance to save Heath.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Are you okay?” Heath looked back at Cato who rode behind him.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Because I can hear you praying.”

  “I’m not praying, I’m negotiating with this horse.”

  Heath slowed down and rode even with her. He had been leading the group and the others were following along at their own pace. Everyone was enjoying the spectacular scenery—rolling green hills with rough out-croppings of granite punctuating the landscape. Below them a stream ran swiftly, forming a ribbon of white-water. Cato knew the rushing water would sing as it bounced and flowed over the rocks.

  “Having trouble, baby?” He looked concerned. “If you’re not comfortable, you can ride with me and we’ll lead Frisco.”

  Oh, how sweet. She wanted to grab him and kiss him, but she didn’t. No PDA, she reminded herself. “Thanks, but I’m okay.” She patted the horse’s neck. “Frisco is being good, he’s just so big and I don’t feel in control.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” He grinned at her with heat in his eyes.

  “Stop it.” She laughed, understanding exactly what he meant by his erotic little joke.

  “Look up there.” He pointed in the sky and she saw a bald eagle sailing on the wind currents. “Majestic, isn’t he?”

  “Beautiful,” Cato agreed, enjoying the touch of the wind on her face. “You have an amazing home. I love this part of the world. It’s so different from South Louisiana.”

  “Where are you from?” Heath asked.

  “St. Martinville,” she stated, watching his face carefully.

  “Small world. I’m originally from Belle Chasse in Plaquemines Parish. My favorite aunt lives in St. Martinville. I used to go spend weeks at a time with her.”

  Almost. Almost Cato told him, but Philip rode up to talk to Heath and Cato pulled back to give them privacy. And when she did, she happened to look to her right. A glint of something shiny caught her eye. They say correctly, that when one sense is taken away the others are strengthened. It was only a fraction of a second, but long enough for Cato to see and comprehend that she saw a man with a gun—pointed right at them. “Get down, Heath! Get down, Philip! He has a gun!” She urged her horse forward and reached over to push on Heath’s shoulders. “Down!” The rest of it was a blur…Frisco reared and both Heath and Philip’s horses balked and bucked. Cato tried to hold on, but a streak of pain seared her shoulder and she lost a grip on the reins. Screaming Heath’s name, she fell. And then she knew no more.

  * * *

  “Gunshot!”

  Heath’s heart went up into his throat. “Take cover!” The horses were panicking and people were screaming. Trying to control his horse, he looked back to see if anyone was hit…and that was when he saw her.

  “Cato!” She was lying on the ground, white as a sheet and her lovely pink blouse was spotted with blood. “My God.” Unable to breathe, he grabbed her up. “Oh, baby, are you okay?” But she couldn’t hear him. Her beautiful brown eyes were closed. Scrambling to get her out of firing range, Heath carried her to a sheltered alcove of rock, shouting as he went. “Ten, Jaxson, Philip! Jimmy! Cato’s hit!”

  This was Texas, so several of the people on the trail ride were armed, but there were no more gunshots and no one could see anything. “How is she?” Jaxson asked, kneeling by Heath.

  “God, I don’t know.” He checked her pulse and groaned with relief when he felt a steady beat.

  “Where’s she hit?” Philip asked, stunned. “Who did this?”

  “I have no idea, but she was trying to save us and instead she got shot.” Heath tried to see where Cato was hurt. Several had gathered round. “Stand back,” he directed harshly, undoing her soft shirt to see how badly she was wounded. “Please, please…” he prayed. Pulling back the cott
on fabric, he was relieved to see it was a graze, a light one, not deep. The bullet had torn through her shirt and skated over her skin from Cato’s shoulder across her collarbone, missing her jugular by a fraction of an inch. Heath trembled at the implication. By some miracle the projectile had not entered her body at all. He was weak with relief.

  “Here, use my handkerchief.” Jimmy handed Heath a pristine square of white silk. Heath nodded, took it and pressed it to her wound. Cato groaned.

  “Look at her temple.” Jaxson knelt beside them. “I think she hit her head on a rock when she fell.”

  He looked. “Damn, that’s why she’s out.” Heath tenderly kissed the spot. “We’ve got to get her to the doctor.”

  “I’m going up after him.” Tennessee announced. “If he’s not there, I’ll see what kind of trace was left.”

  “I’m going with you.” Jimmy offered without hesitation. Philip and the rest stayed hid, strategically placed to return fire if need be.

  Heath cradled Cato, kissing her face and murmuring words of comfort to her. “Just wake up, baby, please. Be all right. Please.”

  “You’d better stop that, people will see.”

  The soft comment from Cato’s lips caused Heath to jerk. “God, I don’t care. Are you all right?”

  “My shoulder burns like fire and I have a bit of a headache, but I think I can walk if you help me up.” She struggled to rise, but Heath wouldn’t let go.

  “I’ve got you, just be still. I want to hold you. We’ll leave as soon as Ten gives us the clear.”

  Cato sighed, burying her head in Heath’s chest. Getting shot was an extreme way of getting Heath’s attention, but she was determined to enjoy it while it lasted. But even with all of those disjointed thoughts going through her head, something Philip had said kept coming back to her. “I don’t think it was me they were aiming at, Heath.”

  “I doubt it too. You took a bullet for me. Why?” He was kneeling in the dirt, sun in his eyes, worrying about the safety of his family and friends, especially the woman in his arms.

  “I don’t think he was aiming at you, either. Philip said Dalton Smith resembled him, wore the same hat. I think Smith’s killer thought he was Philip and I think Philip was the target today, not us.”

  * * *

  The weekend didn’t end exactly as they’d planned. Heath had cancelled the dance and all of his guests had gone home except for Zane and Presley. “I hate hospitals.” Heath observed as he held Cato’s hand, rubbing her fingers gently. She was still asleep. The doctor had informed them she had a concussion and needed to stay overnight in the hospital for observation purposes. Her gunshot wound had been dressed and she’d been given something for the pain and to make her rest.

  “I think everyone does,” Zane observed. “I’ve spent many agonizing hours in one when I lost my eyesight.”

  “I never knew what happened to you.” Heath studied the lawyer who had become a close friend.

  “Chemical burn. I was spraying insecticide on my hay meadow and the wind blew it back in my face. The one day I neglected to wear safety goggles.” He shook his head, remembering the bad times in his life.

  “True, but it was in a hospital that Willow gave you your sight back,” Presley said shyly. “And I got my mouth repaired.” She touched a finger to the barely there scar where her cleft lip had been fixed.

  “You were beautiful then and you’re beautiful now.” Zane kissed her. “Yes, good things can happen in a hospital. They can give us peace of mind if nothing else.”

  “She’s going to be okay, Heath.” Presley assured him.

  “I know, I just hate she was hurt and right under my nose.” He cursed lowly. “I failed to protect her.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Zane assured him. “We’re not up against an amateur, Heath.” Zane observed as he stared out the window of the hospital room.

  “I’m beginning to realize that. It’s all over that mine, isn’t it? Greed.”

  “I think so, yes. And I don’t think he’s working alone. The man who pulled the trigger is probably a hired gun and there may be others involved.”

  “Tennessee is still looking, but he hasn’t found anything so far. Not even a spent shell. There were no tracks, cigarette butts, disturbed ground—nothing. He surmised whoever had been the shooter had left the area by walking in the creek and possibly joined up with someone else who had a horse, a vehicle or even a helicopter to get them out of the area quickly.”

  “Why don’t you call Bowie Travis Malone?” Presley suggested. “He’s a good friend of your cousins and he can give Tennessee a hand. Your property is vast. It’s a lot of ground for one man to cover.”

  “I met Malone when we rescued Aron. He’s a good tracker,” Heath agreed. “I’ll give him a call. That’s a good idea, Presley, thank you.”

  Presley nodded her head. “You’re welcome. I think he’s a wonderful man. He’ll be glad to help, I’m sure.”

  Heath grinned at Zane. “Do you have reason to be jealous, Counselor?”

  “No, no, of course not.”

  Presley protested and Zane hugged her. “Presley’s all mine, Heath. She and Malone are friends. They hit it off the first time they met. I’m gone a lot and I appreciate Bowie and Cassie being there for Presley.”

  “Cassie and I have become fast friends.” Presley offered, but she was thinking of that small, faded school picture she’d found at her grandmother’s so long ago. The one she’d kept because it gave her comfort, even though she had no idea who the little boy was. Bowie Travis had been written on the back of the photograph and Presley hadn’t thought about it for years until she had met the grown up version. There was no doubt in her mind that he was the little boy, the resemblance was uncanny. She hadn’t mentioned it to him, yet, mainly because she didn’t know what to say. What connection she had to Bowie, she didn’t know. But there was one and one day, she’d find the answer. Until then, they would be the best of friends.

  “You know, I think we need to approach this from a different angle.” Heath returned to the original topic. “What can we do to find out who else has an intense interest in this subject?”

  Presley looked up at her fiancé. “I don’t know, maybe we could find out who has contacted different museums or libraries for research materials.”

  “I can help,” Cato spoke up.

  “You’re awake!” Heath stood up and engulfed her in an embrace. “How do you feel?”

  “Heath, rise up and talk to her.” Zane reminded him. Once being blind, he was sensitive to other people’s challenges.

  “Damn, yea.” Holding himself up over her again, Heath touched her face. “Feeling better, sweetheart?”

  Cato’s breath hitched in her throat. “Yea, I am.” She glanced across the room. “Hello Zane, Presley. How are you?”

  “Good, just worried about you.” Presley came toward her. “I brought you some clothes.” She pointed to a bag by the door.

  “The doctor said you could leave when you came to, if everything checked out.”

  “Good.” Cato smiled. “Let me buzz the nurse. I need to go home.” She pressed the call button. “And I need to phone my boss!” She widened her eyes. Heath handed her his cell and she immediately pressed in the number. “I hope I still have a job.” Cato had face-time with text so she could both see him and read what he posted at the same time.

  Touching her arm, he made sure Cato was aware he was talking to her. “I’ll talk to him if need be.”

  “Thanks.” She nodded, but began speaking to someone from the Cultural Center. After a few moments, she hung up. “Huh, that was Bernice. Apparently they already knew. That’s odd, news travels fast.”

  “How’s our patient?” The doctor entered the room and Heath walked Zane and Presley out after their goodbyes were said.

  “Good, feeling better,” Cato answered. “Ready to get out of here.” Heath returned about that time and soon the paperwork was finished. He had a few words with the doctor while
Cato changed clothes. She hadn’t given a lot of thought to what would happen next. “My jeep is still at your house.”

  “Yea, I know.” Heath helped her into the wheelchair that was standard policy for exiting patients. “We’re going back to Highlands.”

  “Okay.” Cato settled into the chair. “It won’t take me long to gather my things and then I’ll be on my way.”

  “No, you’re staying with me.”

  “What?” she exclaimed. “There’s no need of that. I feel fine.”

  “Your dressing has to be changed, you’ve just got over a concussion and you’re still loopy on the pain killers.”

  “I’m not loopy,” she murmured. “I don’t want to outstay my welcome. Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.” Cato quoted Benjamin Franklin.

  “This is different. You’re not a guest, you’re my lover,” Heath spoke matter-of-factly.

  Cato huffed. “You do realize you’re confusing the hell out of me. Don’t you?”

  “I’m an enigma.” He grinned at her. “I want to take care of you. Deal with it. Besides, you have a date to plan for this next weekend and I need you to talk to Zane about the mine.”

  “I’m glad to help you, but I can do those two things from home.” She really didn’t know why she was arguing against doing something she really wanted to do. Still, the memory of Heath saying he wanted to keep their affair secret was never far from her thoughts. He acted like he’d changed his mind, but she really didn’t want to have another discussion about it.

  “You’re staying with me. I want you in my bed.”

  Cato had to hide a smile. “Is this your Dom coming out?”

  Heath gave her a wicked look. “Do you like it?”

  “Yea, I do. What do you want to be called? Master? And what shall my safe word be?” She was getting into this. “You can tie me up and spank me…” She didn’t get to finish the sentence because he covered her mouth with his.