How to Rope a McCoy (Hell Yeah!) (22 page)

“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 cotton 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.