How to Rope a McCoy (Hell Yeah!)

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How to Rope a McCoy (Hell Yeah!) Page 26

by Sable Hunter


  “We’ve still got a long way to go,” Cato observed.

  “Yea, but we’ll make good time when we get on the freeway.” While she fastened her seat belt, he headed back to the main road and called Philip to check on everyone, especially Jaxson.

  Cato kept her eyes straight ahead, not even attempting to read Heath’s lips while he conversed with his family. She needed a few minutes to regroup and figure a couple of things out. That she was getting in over her head was just reality. Her heart was lost to Heath McCoy and she didn’t know if she’d ever get it back. But whose fault was that? Surely not his. He’d been abundantly clear about what she could expect from him. No, it was all her. She’d set her heart on him, pursued him. She had no one to blame but herself.

  Cato had to smile thinking about the weekend she had planned for Heath. Would he enjoy the things she’d chosen? She hoped so. When their time together was finished, the only regret she wanted either of them to have, was saying goodbye.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Three and a half hours went by fast. Cato got Heath talking about sports and he related more facts, figures and statistics than she could keep up with. They did agree on an appreciation for the LSU Tigers, the Texas Longhorns and the Dallas Cowboys. But they split on his allegiance to the Washington Redskins and her fascination with the New England Patriots. Heath laughed and said she only liked the Patriots because she thought Brady was good-looking and Cato had to agree.

  When they pulled into Kingsville City Limits, he asked, “Where to first?” He wasn’t familiar with this part of Texas, but if the balloon ride was any indication, he had something to look forward to.

  “We’re heading to the King Ranch.” She gave him directions.

  “Seriously?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.

  “That’s what you said when you found out about the hot-air balloon ride.” Cato enjoyed his exuberance. “You’ll find I’m always serious,” she warned him.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Right now, his troubles seemed faraway. He was in a place he’d always dreamed of with a beautiful woman. Heath was determined to make the best of it.

  Just needing to be close, she placed her hand on his hard thigh. “I’ve arranged for a private tour of the ranch for you, someone who can tell us the whole history. I told him you were a rancher also so you’ll get to see and do things normal tourists don’t.”

  Heath was impressed…and touched. While Cato was watching out the window as they neared the infamous ranch, he took a moment to study her. She was so different from other women he’d known. She was giving and unassuming, gorgeous to look at, plus she treated him like gold. If only…

  “Look, there’s the sign, the running W. You know no one knows for sure where it came from, whether it stands for a rattlesnake or the winding Santa Gertrudis Creek which runs on the property or something else.”

  “You’ve been studying this, haven’t you?” He looked at her with amusement.

  “Yes, I have.” She winked at him. “I’ll try to let the tour guide talk.”

  “No.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “I’d much rather listen to you. Tell me, give me the short spiel.”

  “Well…” she began. He didn’t realize that asking her to speak on her research was like saying sic ‘em to a dog. “The King Ranch is 825000 acres, the largest cattle operation in the United States. On its land was bred the first American cattle breed, the Santa Gertrudis, the first quarter horse and the King Ranch was home to a winner of the Triple Crown. They invented the cattle prod, cured tick fever and in the late 1980s there were more oil wells on the King Ranch than there were in all of Saudi Arabia.”

  “I’m impressed…” He grinned. “You’re my walking little encyclopedia, aren’t you?”

  A look of abject sadness covered her face.

  Heath sobered immediately. “What’s the matter? What did I say?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. When he raised his eyebrows and waited for an answer, she took a deep breath and answered, “I was alone most of the time as a kid and I read the encyclopedias for company.”

  Heath knew it was wrong to hate the dead, but Cato’s mother had been some piece of work. “Sorry, honey. I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I love the way your mind works.”

  “We’re here.” Cato pointed at the impressive gate and the more impressive Spanish-style mansion beyond.

  “This is going to be fun,” Heath said with an expectant look on his face.

  “I hope so.”

  And it was, in fact, it surpassed Cato’s expectations. After explaining who Heath was, the gentleman in charge of the museum had agreed to take them up in a helicopter. The bird’s eye view of the magnificent holdings was amazing. The pilot flew them over vast herds of cattle, past functioning windmills and oil pumping stations. They swooped down by peaceful rivers and rock formations that rivaled those found in Arches National Park in Utah. It was hard to process that this was one family’s private domain.

  They landed for Heath to take a close-up look at some of the bulls. He’d told Cato about his and Jaxson’s ambitions of improving their breeding stock. She hung back, just enjoying his enthusiasm and it didn’t surprise her at all that he made arrangements to bring Jaxson back to check out a particular bull Heath had his eye on.

  Cattle wasn’t all they saw, Cato was surprised by the citrus groves. The tour guide informed them that the King Ranch was one of the major suppliers for the largest orange juice producer in the nation. Heath was nostalgic about the sugarcane fields and they stopped and cut down a stalk so Cato could taste. “I can’t believe you’re from Louisiana and never ate sugar cane.”

  She winked at him as she took a bite of the sweet treat. “Lately I’ve been trying to make up for a lot of stuff I missed out on.”

  Before Heath could react, the tour guide walked back up. “If you folks are ready, I’ll take you up to the museum and the saddle shop. We’ve arranged to serve you some of our BBQ too, so I hope you’re hungry.”

  Heath was hungry—for food and Cato. As they returned to the helicopter, he held her hand. “Thank you for this. Next weekend is on me.”

  “Make it weekend after next and you’ve got a deal.” At his puzzled look, she explained. “I’ve already made arrangements for something you won’t want to miss. If you’re free, that is.”

  His family problems flew back to the forefront of his mind. “I’ll work hard to be free.”

  When the helicopter touched down where they’d begun, Cato and Heath thanked their guide and loaded back up in Old Red. The museum and saddle shop were in downtown Kingsville so they drove the few miles back and parked under a shade tree. While there were several of the exhibits she wanted to see for research, there was one that had been especially altered just for them—the saddle exhibit. Cato couldn’t wait to see if Heath would realize one of the saddles had been especially crafted for him.

  Making their way into the red brick building, Heath wanted to see everything. Before they started their tour, however, they took time to sample some of the BBQ and sides provided for their lunch. Cato was amused that Heath could barely eat, he was so anxious to get started. She’d known he loved stuff like this, but it thrilled her to know she’d chosen an experience that would bring him joy.

  There were gun collections, an assortment of historic Texas flags, vintage carriages and cars and many western sculptures. Lining the walls were photographs of the ranch and the people who had given their lives to perpetuate it. While Heath checked out a car made especially for one of the owners, Cato studied the photographs. Many were taken back in the 1940s, but some were more recent. She saw many of the landscapes they’d visited today and shots of round-ups, brandings and rodeo events held on the ranch. One picture of a cowboy being awarded a prize caused her to stop dead in her tracks with her mouth open. The caption read: Jose Aguilera top King Ranch cowboy. But it wasn’t the man who caused her pulse to pound, it was the woman standing by him. Cato moved closer, needin
g to be sure. Yes, yes she was right. “Heath, come look!” she called and he came.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Look, I think I’ve found Noah’s mother.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Almost positive. Should we call him?”

  Heath considered what to do. He went over to the information desk and had the curator come back with him. “Can you tell us anything about the people in this photograph?”

  The bespectacled man leaned closer. “Not without research, no. King Ranch employs almost a thousand people. And this photograph appears to be taken somewhere back in the 1980s or 1990s, I have no idea if this man is still employed or not.”

  “How would we go about finding out?” Cato pressed for information, knowing how important this was.

  He thought a minute. “Well, there are papers kept in archive, but you’d have to have permission to view them.” The curator lowered his voice. “And permission is hard to get. The Kings are very private.”

  “This could be important. The woman looks like a family member who has been missing for years.” Heath explained without really explaining.

  The man looked from Heath to Cato and back. “Well, there are some old-timers around, you might be able to find someone who remembers something. But I can’t promise anything.”

  “Thank you,” Heath said as the curator walked away. “I’ll take a few pictures of it with my phone.” He stepped back to the photo and took several shots of it. When he returned to Cato, he reassured her. “I’ll get it to Noah when we get back.”

  Remembering how concerned Jacob was about Noah being hurt, Cato couldn’t help but speak up. “There’s a strange family dynamic going on, it’s like Jacob is frantically trying to protect Noah from something. I don’t know if he knows something and isn’t telling or if it’s just gut instinct on his part, but maybe you should talk to him first.”

  Heath stopped to consider. “Why don’t I go to Aron? He’s the father figure for them both, he’ll know the best thing to do.”

  Cato knew Heath related to Aron, they were in a similar position in their families. She knew he would hope someone came to him before doing something that could possibly hurt one of his brothers or sisters. “Good,” she agreed. “Maybe they can get a private investigator to come down and compare photos and see what they can figure out before they tell Noah.”

  “They don’t want to get his hopes up if she’s not the same woman.”

  “I’d swear she is,” Cato said. “I understand wanting to protect him, but the way Noah acted the other day, he’s determined to find her and is tired of being shielded by his big brothers.”

  “Yea,” Heath grinned, “we get a bad rap sometimes for trying to shelter our families.”

  “Come on, big brother.” Cato took his hand and led him to the saddle room. She couldn’t wait for Heath to find her surprise. When they located the leather exhibits, Cato had to admit that all of the saddles looked pretty much alike to her. But not to Heath. He noted working saddles and dress saddles, Mexican saddles with silver conchos and ones especially made for Mr. King and Mr. Kleiburg.

  And then he found it.

  “What’s this?” Heath knelt down to examine the saddle more closely. It rested on a stand, right in the middle of other saddles made by the fine craftsmen employed by the King Ranch. “This is my brand, the rocking H.” He ran his hand over the smooth leather, noting the intricate tooling and the silver which had been inlaid in the vine and rope pattern. But when he came to his own name, Heath McCoy, carved in the area right under the saddle horn, he stood and whirled to look at Cato. “You didn’t.”

  She smiled. “I did.”

  “Why?” Heath was flabbergasted. “Why…how did you even think of it?”

  She walked up and put her hand on his arm. “I just wanted you to have something to remember me by and the good times we were having. Besides, a saddle is something every cowboy can use. Isn’t it?”

  The man who’d made the saddle came forward, he’d been watching for them. “Are you pleased, Mr. McCoy?”

  Heath went to shake his hand. “Shocked is more like it. I had no idea. The saddle is fabulous. The workmanship is out of this world.”

  Cato hung back, she was relieved Heath liked her surprise. There would have been no way she could have afforded it, but the Kings’ representatives had been gracious enough to give her a good deal due to the work she was doing to honor the ranch in the publications of the Texas Cultural Center. When they were through, a couple of workers came and boxed up Heath’s saddle so it would be protected for the rest of their journey.

  When they were on the road, Cato gave him the address to the Bed and Breakfast near Corpus. “I’ve only booked one night because of your home situation, but if you want to we can extend our stay.”

  “One night is all I can spare, but I’ll do my best to make it memorable for you.”

  Tingles of awareness made her a little jumpy. She shivered as she sat by him and Heath hooked his arm around her neck and pulled Cato close for a kiss. His blue eyes shone with contentment. A desire to tell him how she felt almost overwhelmed her. But she didn’t want to burden him with her feelings, not when he’d made it expressly clear what the terms of their arrangement were. Instead she opted for sexy talk to lighten her mood. “What other positions can we try? What’s your favorite?”

  A vision of Cato on all fours and him running his hands over her perfect ass made him instantly hard. “Honey, any sex with you is better than any man deserves, but I sure would like to have you from the back.”

  “I’ll put that on our agenda.”

  “Do you have an agenda?” He was kidding, but she could read between the lines.

  “Pleasure, Heath, only pleasure.”

  Heath groaned, envisioning what the rest of the night would hold. “You said something about having your way with me in the surf, don’t forget that.”

  “Oh, I won’t…” Their teasing was interrupted by Heath’s phone. “Phone,” he announced when he saw her notice he was pulling it from his pocket. “McCoy.”

  “Feel like French food?”

  “Jimmy!” Heath exclaimed. “How are you?”

  “About to go to Paris. I need some company. Interested?”

  “Paris? France?”

  “Well, certainly not Paris, TX. I have to go over for a quick meeting. I’m thinking of investing in a few vineyards over there. I’m looking to graft a few of my plants with some French root stock.”

  “Sounds like a good time, Dushku, but I’m in Corpus with Cato.”

  Cato saw the word Paris on his lips and felt guilty. “We can go home if you’d rather.” She offered, but he shook his head.

  “Ah, I don’t blame you.” Jimmy laughed. “The beautiful Cato beats out the Eifel Tower or the Riviera anytime.”

  “That’s no lie.” They spoke for a few more moments while Heath caught Jimmy up on the goings on at home. “We’ll be back tomorrow if you want to come over when you get back from France.”

  “I’ll do it. I want to talk to you about Arness.”

  The very name made Heath furious. “We’re struggling to refute his claim. As important as the legal work involved with getting back control of my mineral rights is, that pales in comparison with clearing Philip’s name.”

  They talked a few more minutes before Heath hung up. “Up ahead is the turnoff to the place we’re staying.” Cato pointed. “Look, Heath, I’d understand if you wanted to go on this trip with Jimmy. I mean, Paris…how can you pass that up?”

  “Easy, baby-doll.” Heath squeezed her knee. “Jimmy is going to be walking between grape vines and extolling the virtues of Texas to a bunch of Frenchmen who take wine-snobbery to a whole new level.”

  “They shouldn’t. Did you know in 1880, the whole French wine industry was on the verge of collapse because of a parasite? And if it wasn’t for a Texan named Munson who masterminded a plan and a technique to graft all of the French vines onto Texas root stock
, there would be no French wine today?”

  “Well, no, I didn’t.” Heath stared at her, then laughed. “You make me happy and that’s why I’m not going to France.”

  Cato felt smug. She made Heath McCoy happy and that was an accomplishment.

  * * *

  “I haven’t worn a pair of shorts in I don’t know how long,” Heath murmured crankily as he and Cato walked down the beach hand in hand. “I can’t believe you brought me a pair. And sandals!”

  Cato leaned into him, rubbing her cheek on his chest. “I couldn’t see you stomping in the sand in jeans and cowboy boots.”

  “At least you let me keep my hat on,” Heath grumbled.

  “Shoot, you’re cute. You’ve got sexy legs and you’re not too white at all.”

  Heath grinned mischievously. “I said I didn’t wear shorts, I didn’t say I don’t go skinny dipping.”

  “Awww, I wanna watch.”

  Her reaction caused him to snort. He hugged her. “I have a good time with you. Do you know that?”

  “Yea, me too.” She wanted to tell him he was gonna miss her when she was gone, but that was something he’d have to figure out for himself. “Let’s race! I bet you can’t catch me.”

  Before Heath knew what was going on, Cato had taken off running. She was wearing that raspberry bikini again and all Heath could think about was how jealous every man in the world would be of him right now. Not one to turn down a challenge, Heath began to sprint after her.

  Cato glanced back, laughing. What was she thinking? She couldn’t outrun Heath, not with her ample bosom and wide butt. But who wanted to? When he got close, she zigged out of his reach but he zagged and caught her. Cato squealed but Heath just turned her in his arms and began kissing her neck. “Heath, what if someone sees?”

  “Private beach, remember? And didn’t you promise me something?”

  “What?” She couldn’t think, he was teasing her nipples through her top.

 

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