Cowboy Heat - Hell Yeah 1 Page 10

  While Jacob bought and sold cattle; Aron tried to put two and two together. It bothered him how little he knew about Libby. To know her body so intimately, he knew very little about her life. One thing was for certain, he intended to rectify that situation.

  Going back to the day she fell off the horse, he remembered Jacob saying the name of a doctor. What was it? Montgomery? No. Monroe? No. Mulligan, yeah. Mulligan. He took a pen out of his pocket and wrote the name on the back of his auction program. He saw Jacob take note of his remembrance.

  What else? Oh, her innocence – Libby had said that she hadn’t had a normal life up to this point. Something about a family problem. Whatever it was, it had kept her from interacting with men to any degree. He hated to think about her having problems, but he couldn’t regret that he had been the sole recipient of all the incredible passion that Libby had stored up.

  Third, she had said that she was going to have to fight a battle and face an enemy. Damn! That didn’t sound good. Aron wondered if she was in some type of trouble. Didn’t she know that he would move heaven and earth to help her? Not that he had told her in so many words, but right now, she didn’t act like she wanted to hear any talk of forever. And forever was exactly what Aron wanted to nail down.

  “Are you ready to go?” Aron looked up and the auction was over. Crap! He had missed it all.

  “Yeah, I guess so. Did we do good?” Actually, he didn’t really care a whole hell of a lot – one way or the other.

  “Excellent. How about you, got a handle on Libby, yet?”

  “Hell, no.” But, he was working on it.

  “Keep plugging at it, you’ll figure it out.”

  ************************

  It was hard to stand by and watch his Little Bit ride off on the back of Isaac’s hog. He had insisted that she wear a helmet and reminded her that he would be dropping into Shorty’s at some point during the evening. Standing until he couldn’t see the dust from the motorcycle, he slowly turned to walk back to the now empty feeling house. With a heavy heart, he realized that this was just a small taste of how it would be if Libby were really gone. Not going to happen – he promised himself that. A step or two later, his cell phone rang. It was Trahan, the PI that he called upon from time to time about various things.

  “McCoy.”

  “Aron, I have a small lead on the buyer of that bronze you’ve been trying to track down.”

  “Tell me.” He still wanted to know, but oddly – it wasn’t as high of a priority as it used to be.

  “The other artist that was exhibiting with you at the time, a woman, I think her name was Martinez. Anyway, I found her and I questioned her about that day, and she recalled the woman that bought Freedom.

  “A woman? That’s not much to go on.”

  “The reason it sticks out in Martinez’ mind was that she had seen her before. She didn’t recall a name, but she does remember that it had been on the news that the woman had cancer and there was a benefit of some kind for her medical bills.”

  “So, this woman spent hard earned money on a bronze when she didn’t have enough to pay her doctor and hospital bills?”

  “Doesn’t sound right does it.”

  “No, it doesn’t. I guess that’s a start, but I don’t know how I can use that information.”

  “Thought you’d want to know.”

  “Thanks.”

  ************************

  Libby was fascinated by the pool hall. She hadn’t dressed up; she didn’t have anything to dress up in. But, she was definitely having a good time. The music was loud and very country. Several cowboys had asked her to dance, and she had taken two up on it. Both times, either Isaac or Jacob had cut in when they felt that the man was taking liberties. She hadn’t felt threatened at any time, but she appreciated the McCoy brothers concern. It wasn’t like they were cramping her style, Libby wasn’t there to find a man – she had one. At least, she was claiming him. Not that they were dating or anything, he had never said anything about taking her anywhere. Still, she would rather be with him than anyone else in the world.

  Still, and all, like her mom used to say, this place was far better than she had expected. She was here for the experience, and so far, she wasn’t disappointed.

  Aron could have brought her, but she knew that he would have positioned her at his side and under his arm all night and she wouldn’t have gotten a taste for the true atmosphere of the place. With the other two McCoy’s along, Libby could go out on a limb and not fear falling off.

  The billiards game was a blast. Isaac taught her how to hold a cue stick and how to rack up the balls. He had even held her close while she learned the proper way to make a shot. There had been no flirting; all the brothers treated her with great care and the utmost respect. They knew who she belonged to – at least, for now.

  Aron had put his foot down about the tequila shots, so Libby had opted for wine coolers, instead. They were really, really, really good. This was her first venture into the world of adult beverages. Every time Jacob and Isaac walked off, Libby ordered another. She hoped they brought enough money to pay her bar tab. She should have felt bad, but right now – actually – she was feeling pretty good.

  There were about a dozen men in the place that couldn’t keep their eyes off of her. They watched her sway and twirl, right by herself. She had no idea how sexy she was, or that Isaac and Jacob had walked around and informed all of the drooling men that she was off limits. They made it clear that she was Tebow property - belonging to the big man himself, Aron McCoy. No, Libby didn’t have a clue. She was in her own little world. Dancing right by herself, minding her own business. With her wine cooler. Isaac who was on Libby-patrol, had to take a bathroom break. And while he was gone a group of new men came it. When Jacob noticed, there were several wranglers circling her like Mako sharks. He swooped in and gathered her close, “How many of those drinks have you had, cookie?”

  “Eight.” Libby answered with an absolutely straight face.

  “Eight!” Jacob exclaimed. “Shorty, why in the hell did you let her have eight wine coolers?” He shouted across the bar.

  Shorty grinned, but yelled back. “There’s not much alcohol in a wine cooler.”

  “There is when you’ve had eight of ‘em,” he grumbled under his breath. Hell! Aron was going to kill them all.

  “Hello, lover.” A sultry voice purred next to Jacob’s ear. “Care to introduce me to your tipsy little friend?” Venom dripped off every word.

  Jacob’s stomach turned over as he recognized Aron’s ex-wife’s voice – Sabrina. If he hated anybody in the world, it was this woman. “I was never your lover, bitch.” Jacob bit the words out at her. He hadn’t forgiven her, nor would he ever.

  His attitude sobered Libby to a degree. “Jacob?” she called his name in confusion.

  “It’s okay, baby. This is nobody that you need to be concerned with.” He held her protectively to his side, as if Sabrina was a disease that would rub off on her.

  “She’d best be concerned.” Sabrina draped a skinny arm around Jacob’s neck. She was over-made up, under dressed, and her perfume had been applied with a heavy hand. “I didn’t have my fill of you. She just might have reason to be jealous.” Sabrina’s tongue might be dripping sugar, but her eyes were like poisonous darts. These McCoy men owed her – big time. She had been cheated out of a fortune.

  “I’m not with Jacob,” Libby informed her. “I’m with Aron.” Jacob was surprised that Libby would publicly claim Aron – pleasantly surprised.

  “Interesting!” the woman exclaimed. “Jacob does she know who I am?”

  “Who are you?” Libby asked, just drunk enough to care.

  “I’m Sabrina McCoy, Aron’s wife.” The smooth answer made Libby’s skin crawl.

  Libby’s eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not. You’re divorced. You weren’t a good wife.” Libby repeated things well.

  “Aron wasn’t much of a husband. And being his wife wasn’t much of a life.�
�� Her flip answer made Libby’s blood boil.

  “Anyone lucky enough to be married to Aron McCoy should get down on their knees and thank the Lord for their blessings.” This was a long speech for an inebriated woman.

  “The only blessing about living at Tebow was the smorgasbord of gorgeous McCoy men to sample. Jacob here was one tasty morsel.” She leered at Jacob. About that time Isaac walked up. “And here’s the tastiest one of all.” Isaac looked grim, and his mouth was twisted as if he had bit into something was bitter.

  “You didn’t sleep with Aron’s brothers.” Libby was furious.

  “I didn’t?” Sabrina teased Libby. “And how would you know?”

  “I know them. And they wouldn’t betray their brother that way.” She was emphatic in her support of the McCoy brothers.

  “Where is your lover, if that is what he is? And why are you here with Jacob and Isaac if you belong to Aron? Are you following in my footsteps, sweetie?” The woman was beautiful. Libby could see why Aron would have been attracted to her. And she was dressed to kill. Libby felt plain and out of place next to her.

  “That’s none of your business,” Libby flared. “But I can promise you that Aron’s brothers treat me with the greatest respect.”

  “How about the younger one? Nathan, was it? Is he still as much of a stupid retard as he used to be? Wasn’t he born that way? Was it a birth complication or something?” Sabrina stood there looking smug while she lambasted every member of the family that Libby loved so well.

  “He has dyslexia, you baboon. I’ve heard enough from you! That’s it.” Libby handed her wine cooler to Isaac. “You’re going down, you loud-mouthed Jezebel!” Without warning Libby propelled herself right on top of Sabrina Jones – ex-McCoy. Before Sabrina could get her bearings, Libby had knocked her into a table that had been filled with glasses and beer. Then, into another table. Crashes of glass and gasps of amusement echoed through the bar. And it wasn’t over.

  Libby would not give up. Every time that Sabrina would try and get away, Libby would get right in her face again. Isaac held Jacob back and they were fascinated at the little thing’s determination. When she picked up a chair to bash over Sabrina’s head, Jacob’s common sense finally won out and he intervened. Shorty was not happy. He was on the phone and naming names. Jacob held Libby off the ground while she kicked and wiggled to get down and back into the fight. “If I ever see you anywhere near a member of the McCoy family, again, I’ll take you apart with my bare hands. I’ll rip your hair to smithereens. I’ll break both your knee caps and stomp your toes . . . . . “The threats trailed off as Libby was carted out of the bar to ensure the safety of the clientele. Isaac and Jacob followed at a safe distance.

  Isaac was troubled to see that Sabrina had landed a blow or two. There were bruises and scrapes on Libby’s arms and a dark, fist-shaped mark was starting to show on her left jaw.

  “You have got to come and get them Deputy; I’m tired of these McCoy’s tearing up my place.” Shorty called on his cell phone.

  “Shit, Jacob. We’re about to get arrested.” He couldn’t afford to spend any more time in jail.

  “Actually, I think Libby is the one that’s in trouble.” Which was worse, much worse.

  “With the law. That’s nothing. We’re the ones up shit creek without a paddle. We have to face Aron.” That was a scary proposition.

  ************************

  Libby had never seen the inside of a jail. It was as fascinating as the bar had been. This was a new experience that she hadn’t counted on. She had question after question and soon the deputies all had pained looks on their faces. Jacob and Isaac sat to one side, their hats in their hands and waited for one large Texas tornado to blow in.

  “Isaac, I thought I told you that if you got into another bar fight that I’d take the cost of the damages out of your hide.” Aron stormed into the sheriff’s office, growling like an angry bear.

  “It wasn’t Isaac, Mr. McCoy.” A friendly little Barney Fife type had met Aron with a clip board in his hand.

  “Jacob? Well, hell this is his first offense; you ought to let him off.”

  “The problem wasn’t just the damage, Mr. McCoy. It was the terrorist-type threats,” the deputy cheerfully explained.

  “Jacob was making terrorist threats? Against who?” Aron couldn’t believe this. He was probably defending Libby’s honor. If anybody had touched his baby, they wouldn’t live to see another day.

  “It wasn’t Jacob making the terrorist threats, Mr. McCoy; or Isaac.”

  “Well, then you have the wrong people in custody. There were no other members of my family there to cause trouble.” Aron roared.

  “It was Libby.” Isaac muttered low enough that he thought maybe Aron wouldn’t hear.

  He heard.

  “What did you say?” Aron was pole-axed.

  “Libby was the one in the fight. She was the one making threats.” Isaac lowered his head and winced as if anticipating a blow.

  “My Libby isn’t capable of doing those things.” Aron had no doubt about the truth of that statement.

  “It’s true, Mr. McCoy.” About that time Sheriff Foster joined them.

  “Who in the hell did she fight with or threaten?” Aron still didn’t believe a word they were saying. And just where in the hell was she? He looked around. She wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  “She attacked and made threats against one, Sabrina McCoy.” The Sheriff looked perplexed, as if he had just made the connection. “Does that name ring a bell with you, Sir?”

  “Shit. Yes.” It was all beginning to make sense now.

  “Where is Libby?” he looked around at all the people who had failed him.

  “She’s back in the holding cell.”

  “THE HOLDING CELL? YOU PUT THAT SWEET LIITLE GIRL IN A CELL?” The walls of the jail began to vibrate.

  When he bellowed, Libby heard him.

  “Aron! Aron! Sweetie, I’m back here! Come meet these nice criminals.”

  ************************

  There was a whole herd of Texas longhorns stampeding through Libby’s head. “I’m never taking another sip of alcohol as long as I live.” It was Saturday and the boys had decided to take a rare day off from any and all duties. Mainly because Aron insisted. Libby needed him. He was in the man cave, on the middle cushion of the big leather couch and she was literally draped across his lap. Her head lay on the left cushion, her feet were on the right and her middle was cradled across Aron’s thighs so he could rub her back.

  “A sip wouldn’t have hurt anything, baby. It was the ninety-six ounces that brought you down.” He would never tell her, but her soused was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

  “I’m so sorry, Aron. I’ve caused tongues to wag.” Her voice was muffled in the material of the couch.

  “Don’t you worry about it, you’re my champion.” She bounced a little, then groaned. He smiled. And he wasn’t kidding – he would have given anything to see her lay in on Sabrina. Libby cared. There was no doubt about – this was proof positive.

  “Don’t make me laugh, it causes me great pain.” He pushed her shirt up so that he could enjoy the silk of her skin as he continued his petting.

  “I want you to think about something while you’re recuperating. A pattern is beginning to emerge in your escapades.” He waited for her to grunt before he continued. “On your first adventure you fell off Molly.”

  Her garbled response made him smile.

  “I know it was the snake’s fault, but still you got hurt.” He began to draw pictures on her back, then they turned into words. “Second, you wanted to learn to shoot pool and you got involved in a bar-fight. Which, I appreciate, by the way. Like I said, you’re my champion. Sabrina needed to be brought down a notch and we couldn’t do it. The thing I hate is that, again, you got hurt. Cuts, scrapes and a big ole’ bruise that hurts my heart.”

  “I’m OK, I just can’t believe I’ve spent time in jail. How am I ever going to live dow
n my unfortunate incarceration?” Was she crazy? Aron was writing on her back, and if she kept real still – maybe she could tell what he was writing.

  “Libby, I had you out of that cell ten minutes after I arrived. Your total time-served was only an hour and a half.” He kept writing and she kept trying to make it out.

  “But, I’ll never be able to answer the question – ‘Have you ever been arrested?’ – with a NO again.”

  “Would you like me to try and get your record expunged, love?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” she let out a heavy sigh. “I think I’ll eventually learn to live with it.”

  I love you. I love you. I love you.

  That time, she got it.

  Oh God, he was declaring himself by touch. No surprise, there. Touch was Aron’s specialty. She didn’t move. The sensation of him tracing those sweet words on her skin was infinitely wonderful. Should she react? Should she let him know she could tell what he was doing? He began speaking before she could decide.

  “Can’t you be satisfied with sexual adventures?” Aron sounded hopeful.

  “My sexual adventures with you are always very satisfying.” Honesty is the best policy. Usually.

  He was still tracing that momentous phrase on her back.

  I love you. I love you. I love you.

  Every part of her body wanted to turn over and plaster herself against him, claiming the declaration and making one of her own. But, she couldn’t. Not until she knew more about her remission. Maybe the tests that Doc Mulligan would perform in a couple of weeks would tell her if the remission was going to hold. If he said yes, she didn’t know what she would do. “Libby-boo?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Tell me what your dreams are?”

  Oh, Macaroni-and-Cheese, her walking-dream was asking her what her dreams were. “Let me sit up.” Easily, he turned her and when she got her bearings, he had her cradled in his arms. “Honestly, I haven’t spent much time dreaming.”

  “How can that be possible?” He traced that same little litany on the exposed skin of her chest, then rubbed her neck, sliding his hand on up to cup her chin. “A beautiful woman like you should have her dreams fulfilled as a matter of course.”