The Cattleman (Sons of Texas Book 2)

by Anna Jeffrey

  “Oh, my God, I didn’t realize. I wasn’t able to go to sleep until late.”

  “Strange bed, huh? That happens.”

  “That wasn’t it.” “There was this, this”—she splayed stiffened fingers of one hand for emphasis—“howling and—”

  “Oh, that’s coyotes.” Johnnie Sue flopped her hand at her. “Just ignore them. They howl every night, but they don’t come around. We think there’s a den not too far away. Listen, Mr. Lockhart and I had breakfast several hours ago, but I’m getting dinner together now. If you want to eat, I’ll probably get it on the table in about half an hour.”

  “Dinner?”

  “You know, food? The noon meal?”

  “Oooh. I see. Lunch.”

  “I’ve got a roast in the oven and I’m throwing some vegetables together. Since Pic ain’t here, Mr. Lockhart and I eat pretty light.”

  “Oooh, Pic. He’s still gone?”

  “You know Pic?”

  “Only what his mother told my mother about him. She said he’d be happy to help me find things to photograph.”

  “Humph. Well, I guess you’ll have to wait. I don’t look for him to get back before tonight or even tomorrow.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask. Don’t know if I can answer.”

  “Mrs. Lockhart told my mom Pic isn’t married. Is he engaged or anything like that?”

  Johnnie Sue didn’t answer. A level look came from her hazel eyes magnified by thick glasses lenses. Xochimilka felt as if she had been sliced open and insides revealed. After a few beats, the maid said, “Sometimes Mrs. Lockhart takes a lot for granted.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Pic’s got a girlfriend in Drinkwell. They’re real crazy about each other. Everybody figures they’ll get hitched one of these days.”

  “Oh,” Xochimilka said, deflated. “Well…I just wondered.”

  The maid looked at her a few seconds more, then said, “Come on over to the ranch house when you get ready.” She stalked off, mounted a green golf cart and drove away.

  Well, that was strange. The woman certainly hadn’t liked being asked about Pic’s personal life.

  Xochimilka started for the shower. Did the Lockharts have someone who would come and clean the guesthouse and make the bed? Or would Johnnie Sue do it? Xochimilka couldn’t quite put her finger on what Johnnie Sue’s position was. She behaved as if she ran things, but Xochimilka was sure she was just the maid.

  After her shower, she stood in front of the cheval mirror in the bedroom studying her nude body. She might be thirty-five, but she didn’t look it. She knew several women younger than she who didn’t have bodies nearly as good as hers. For one thing, she hadn’t given birth. She was a tiny bit overweight, but she wasn’t fat. Her boobies were still perky and her tummy flat. And everyone envied her olive skin and thick hair. Those features certainly should be good enough to attract a country boy.

  ****

  In Fort Worth, Amanda, Pic, Drake, Shannon and Marcus and Steve Logan strolled through the Cowgirl Hall of Fame, a museum Amanda had wanted to visit for years. Having someone else who knew something about cowboys and western history to share it with made it all the more interesting and fun. It was also fun explaining it all to Marcus and Steve, both East Coasters, who knew little about cowgirls and their history.

  When they finished, the six of them strolled toward the Will Rogers Coliseum located within walking distance of the museum. Many cutting horse shows and rodeos took place in the coliseum’s arena, they explained to Marcus and Steve.

  The minute they entered the coliseum, someone called to Pic and waved. Many said hello in passing and a few stopped and shook hands. Going to a horse show with Drake and Pic was like going with celebrities. In this venue, the Double-Barrel ranch was well known and so were the Lockhart brothers and Kate.

  Over time with Pic, Amanda had met celebrities ranging from business people to rodeo stars to movie and music stars. They had sat with Kix and Barbara Brooks and watched one of their horses perform. Another time, just outside the arena, she had met Tanya Tucker, who sometimes did her own riding.

  Amanda had accompanied Pic and Troy once when they had taken Michael Keaton to dinner and they had talked about his ranch in Montana. He had introduced himself as Michael Douglas, saying he wanted to be known in the horse community by his real name.

  The conversation among all of them had usually been about horses—the breeding, the training, the value. Pic never seemed to notice that any of them were celebrities. He treated them no differently from the people he dealt with every day.

  Someone else started up a conversation with Drake and Pic both when a tall, fairly good-looking dark-haired guy Amanda didn’t recognize came toward them, hanging on to a blond woman’s hand and pulling her along. Both were dressed in jeans and boots, as was every single breathing human being in sight, but the closer he got, Amanda could see that he was anything but a cowboy. Funny how she could spot that. If she didn’t know Pic and his brothers, who were real cowboys, she probably couldn’t.

  “Is this someone you know?” she asked Pic in a low voice.

  Pic glanced toward where she nodded and a scowl crossed his face.

  Drake, too, looked up. “Shit,” he said.

  The man came straight for them and put out his right hand. “Pic. Haven’t seen you in a long time, buddy.”

  The man behaved as if he and Pic were old friends, but Amanda felt Pic tense and withdraw. Still, he shook hands. “Jordan,” he said curtly.

  Pic had no enemies. Or at least not any that Amanda had ever seen. He was too laid back, too open-minded. But obviously, no love was lost between him and this guy.

  The man turned and offered his hand to Drake, who shook it, but barely. Shannon shrank behind Drake, hanging on to his arm. As if he had a sixth sense, Steve Logan stepped closer to Shannon.

  “Shannon, you’re looking well,” the man said. “Haven’t seen you since the TCCRA ball last year. You wowed all of us with that gorgeous gown you had on. How’s business?”

  Drake shot him a look that would melt the North Pole. The air teemed with tension. Pic placed a hand on Drake’s shoulder.

  “Uh, busy,” Shannon said.

  Was Drake jealous? Who was this guy? An old boyfriend of Shannon’s? Someone Shannon knew from the real estate business? Amanda was caught in the middle of some kind of drama.

  “Good, good,” the new arrival said. “You got that Benbrook deal wrapped up, then?”

  “Yes. Yes, I did,” Shannon said.

  “That’s good, that’s good.” The man’s gaze volleyed between Drake and Shannon.

  Pic placed himself between the man and Drake. His hand landed on Amanda’s back and she felt herself being nudged forward. Jordan and the woman with him fell in step beside them.

  “What are you doing here, Palmer?” Drake asked across Pic.

  “We’re getting together with Troy and his date after his ride. That’s a good horse he’s riding today by the way.”

  Instantly, Amanda wondered who Troy’s date was, but she had yet to be introduced to this stranger, so she said nothing. She had never been so in the dark about what was going on around her.

  “All of Troy’s rides are good horses,” Pic said.

  “Kate here today?”

  Drake stiffened. “None of your—”

  “Nope,” Pic said quickly.

  “She never got her claim settled on her barn, eh?”

  Pic stopped mid-step and gave him a look. “How would you know?”

  The man stopped, too, and raised his palms defensively. “Hey, I’m just making conversation. Troy told me.”

  Amanda had never seen Pic so short and rude. She was positive he didn’t know whether Kate was here. She had never seen Drake so uptight. He looked as if he might punch something.

  Amanda looked up at Pic. His jaw was set, his eyes hard. When they reached an entrance to the arena, he said, “See ya, Jordan,”
and steered all of them in the direction of the seating.

  A few steps down, Pic caught her elbow and steered her into a row of seats. “Here, baby. Sit here.”

  Amanda took the seat on the end of the line so that Pic could sit beside Drake and Steve Logan seated himself behind Shannon and Drake in the row behind them. She leaned in toward Pic and whispered. “Who was that?”

  “Jordan Palmer,” he answered in a low voice. “Kate used to be engaged to him.”

  “Oh, my gosh.”

  Amanda knew Kate had been engaged years back, but she had lived in Lubbock at that time, so she had never seen the fiancé and didn’t know his name. Nor did she know what had happened to the engagement. She glanced back across her shoulder to get a second look at the man, but he had disappeared into the crowd. “You don’t like him?” she said to Pic?

  “He’s an asshole. Kate broke up with him, but he wouldn’t leave her alone. Drake kicked his ass.”

  Shannon heard and gave her husband a pointed look. “You had a fight? You’re kidding.”

  Pic gave a phony laugh and said to Shannon. “It was years ago. Back in his younger days, Drake had a low tolerance for bullshit.”

  That was true. Drake’s short fuse when he was younger was well known in Drinkwell. But as far as Amanda knew, Drake hadn’t been in a fight in years.

  “He looks a lot older than Kate,” Amanda said.

  “He is. About ten years.”

  They hadn’t been seated long before Troy appeared in the arena astraddle a beautiful bay mare. Pic and Drake both sat forward, forearms resting on the back of the empty seats in front of them, eyes locked on the exquisite horse and rider. The announcer called Troy’s name, the crowd quieted and Troy and his horse began to work.

  Amanda, too, sat forward, watching. She wasn’t an expert on cutting horses, but she had learned enough about them from the Lockharts to enjoy watching them perform. The mare wheeled left and right on her haunches. Her rearend almost touched the ground at times. The beauty, grace and athleticism of cutting horses at this level of competition were fascinating. No wonder people became obsessed with them.

  “God, that Troy,” Drake said. “I haven’t watched him ride since last December. He looks like he’s part of that horse.”

  “The horse owners love him, too,” Pic replied. “They all say the same thing. He’s able to get more out of every horse and do it easier than any trainer they’ve ever had. He’s got the gift.”

  Pic knew so much about horses and training horses, though he didn’t do it himself unless it was a horse he planned to ride. Silas Morgan, the horse wrangler at the Double-Barrel, was always saying Pic was the one who should have become a horse trainer. In today’s venue, Amanda could see the respect people in the horse world had for him. Even as much as Troy in a subtle way.

  As they continued to watch Troy and his horse, Drake reminded Pic about talking to him.

  Pic shook his head. “I’m not gonna spoil Mandy’s birthday arguing with Troy. It’ll wait until we get back to the ranch. It’s bad enough that he’s set to do something with Jordan Palmer. No telling what that might turn in to.”

  “Does the horse belong to Troy?” Amanda asked.

  “Nuh-uh. But he’s been working with her a long time.” Pic nudged Drake’s arm with his elbow. “Look at that, look at that. See how she backs her ears? She’s got cow for sure.”

  “I see it. That calf is not going to get past her.”

  Amanda didn’t quite catch the nuance of the performance, but she knew when someone said a horse had “cow,” he meant it had a strong natural instinct to cut cattle. Apparently, not all horses had it. To Amanda, the two-minute performance had appeared to be flawless, but she had to admit, she was preoccupied with what had passed between Pic and his brother and Jordan Palmer.

  They parted from Drake and Shannon after the horse show and made their way downtown. They watched an action thriller at a stadium seating theater. All through the movie, Pic’s hand rested on her thigh, building tension. They finished off the day with fantastic food at Texas de Brazil and Pic insisted that Marcus eat with them.

  Then they were on their way back to Drinkwell. “It’s been a great birthday,” she said as they cleared the city.

  Pic looked at her over his shoulder, grinning. “It’s not over yet.”

  “Did Drake really get in a fight with that Jordan guy?”

  “A long time ago. Jordan was spending quite a bit of time at Kate’s house, which kept Dad and Mom in a lather half the time. When Kate decided to end it with him, she wanted him to take his things and leave, but he made a nuisance of himself. Kept Kate bawling every other day. Even threatened her.

  “Oh, my gosh. I never knew that. What happened?”

  “He did move out finally, but for months afterward he followed her around and wouldn’t leave her alone. He showed up at her house drunk one night and she called the ranch scared. Drake happened to be there, so he went over to talk to him. Drake was in a lot better shape back then. Not a guy you’d want to bristle up to. Guess Jordan made that mistake. Anyway, after that, Jordan left and never came back.”

  Amanda was sure that was an abbreviated version of the story. Most of what went on in the Pic-and-Drake Secret Society never got discussed in great detail with those not involved.

  “I remember hearing about Drake fighting,” Amanda said.

  “He used to be hell on wheels. After Tammy ditched him and married that golfer, he had a big chip on his shoulder. For a couple of years, nobody could get along with him. He finally settled down, but from that point on, he had a different attitude about women.” Pic reached across the console and pulled her skirt up her thigh. “That’s enough about my brother. You wearing those tiny panties?”

  “Well, yes. Bikini panties are the only kind I have.”

  “And they look damn good on you, too.” He grinned. “They look even better off.” His hand moved up and squeezed the inside of her thigh.

  Excitement coursed through her. “Pic, you’re driving.”

  “I just wanna play with you.”

  “Hah. You just don’t want to discuss your big brother.”

  “Talking about him isn’t as much fun as playing with you. Open your legs, baby.”

  “Pic, you need to watch the road.”

  But as arousal coursed through her, she did spread her thighs, allowing his fingers to find her sex and rub her through the crotch of her panties. Her clitoris began to tingle, her sex clenched. She was suddenly on fire. She could come, right now.

  “Hm-hm. You’re wet, darlin’. Just scoot a little closer. Pull your skirt all the way up.”

  She obeyed. His fingers pushed her panties aside and stroked between the lips of her sex, now drenched with her moisture. She lifted her hips, making it easier for him for him to rub her. When he found her clit, her legs fell open even wider. She whimpered and grunted as he stroked her to an orgasm that left her weak in the knees.

  And through it all, he hadn’t even slowed down.

  You are a sex-crazed slut, Amanda! You’re riding down the highway at eighty miles an hour. Can’t you restrain yourself for even a short while?

  He continued to rub her even after she climaxed. “Too bad I’m driving. You could climb on and ride.”

  Having been astraddle his lap before, Amanda had no trouble visualizing that image or remembering how, in that position, his long, thick erection filled her and found her deepest place while his mouth sucked her nipples until she had a shattering climax.

  Despite having just come, her sex was clenching hungrily and down there, she was trembling. A shiver passed over her shoulders. “Thank God we’ll be home soon. I would hate for us to have to park on the side of the road.”

  They went to bed the minute they reached her house.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning, the gray of daylight eased past the blinds into Amanda’s bedroom. Soundly sleeping, Pic was spooned behind her, his long arms and legs caging her.
Pressed against her backside, his erection felt like a warm brick. He was always hard in the morning. She didn’t see how it was possible after they had made love into the wee hours, but renewed passion stirred within her.

  The air conditioning clicked on with a soft roar, sending chilly air through the room. She turned in Pic’s arms and snuggled closer, basking in the warmth radiated by his big body. His ambience engulfed her—his distinctive morning scent, as potent as an aphrodisiac, his warm soft skin, his size and strength that made her feel protected. She pressed her nose against his furry chest and drew it all into her body and soul.

  Though he hadn’t moved, she couldn’t resist sliding her hand between them and wrapping it around his penis. Fully aroused, it was so big and thick. She had always marveled that he fit inside her. And that was where she wanted him now, filling her and driving her to another shattering orgasm. She might be sore from two nights of almost non-stop lovemaking, but no matter. He would be leaving her today and she didn’t know when she would be in his arms again.

  She skimmed her fingertips over the plump crown of his erection, felt a drop of moisture. He grunted.

  She laughed softly, nuzzling his chest. “Penny for your thoughts, fuzzy bear.”

  “Mmph,” he mumbled.

  She licked his nipples, then scuttled down in the bed, slowly pushing the sheet down as she licked and nibbled her way down his happy trail, all the way to the root of him, again drawing the heady scent of him into her nostrils.

  He moaned softly and turned to his back, revealing his beautiful erection, thick, deeply colored and curving upward toward his navel. She raised up on her elbow and tongued the backside as if it were a lollipop. When she reached the plump head, she molded her lips around it.

  A rumbly sound came from deep in his throat and his thigh muscles stiffened. “Don’t make me come,” he mumbled. “Wannna be inside you.”

  She loved tormenting him this way. She pressed the tip of her tongue into his tiny slit, then circled the velvety tip. She took her time, gently sucking and savoring the earthy, salty-sweet taste of him.

  Growling and stretching, he raised his arms above his head and gripped the stiles in her bed’s headboard. “Careful, baby…I’ll come….”