by Carol Finch
“Miguel, don’t be so dramatic,” Alexa said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “Coop is not to blame. I’m the one who started this. I wanted this.”
She wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to rush to Coop’s defense. After all, she was mad at him for working for Elliot. He was supposed to be working strictly for Mr. Chester. In addition, he had caught her spying on Elliot again and he was beginning to get suspicious of her true intentions. She would cause more complications in this case if she didn’t watch out.
“You?” Miguel crowed in disbelief. His wide-eyed gaze bounced back and forth between her and Coop. “You’re lying to protect him? Why?”
“It was me,” Coop spoke up. “I stepped over the bounds that you and I discussed previously.” He pivoted to drop into a respectful bow in front of her. “I have disappointed you a second time this evening. My apologies, Alexa.”
Then, without another word, he strode around the carriage to fetch Bandit. Then he rode off into the night.
“Have you lost what is left of your mind, woman?” Miguel railed at her as he boosted her onto the carriage seat. “You are out of control! First, you send me off to town with Kate. Leaving me alone with her was all your fault and I’m laying the blame squarely at your feet.”
Alexa glanced down at Miguel. She had the unmistakable feeling that her two dearest friends might have experienced the same wild desire that she had discovered with Coop.
The thought made her grin broadly.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped as he shook his finger at her. “And I do not want to talk about it, either.”
“I caught Elliot in a tryst with his paramour tonight,” she said as he clambered onto the seat to take up the reins.
Miguel smirked. “Don’t try to sidetrack me. I’m angry and I’m not speaking to you ever again.”
So much for that vow of silence. Thirty minutes later, he was still lecturing her about her daredevil recklessness with the investigation and with Coop. He also raked her over live coals for temping him with Kate. Alexa decided he was really angrier with himself than with her. He must have discovered that he, like she, had a definite weakness.
His went by the name of Kate.
Hers went by the name of Coop.
Coop used the time it took to ride back to town to chew himself up one side and down the other. Holy hell! What was the matter with him? Why did that blue-eyed siren devastate him so completely? Why couldn’t he muster the slightest willpower where she was concerned? She was his blind spot and he wasn’t proud of it. Furthermore, she was everything he knew he couldn’t have.
Perhaps that was the crux of the problem, he thought to himself. Maybe a sense of the forbidden had triggered this reckless behavior in him.
It sounded reasonable so he decided to go with that.
When he heard the clatter of hooves behind him, he veered off the road to let the unidentified traveler pass. Turned out it was Lily Brantley. She trotted down the road, her red skirts billowing around her while she straddled the saddle. Too bad Alexa couldn’t show Lily how to fashion breeches to contain all those yards of fluttering fabric.
Coop swore under his breath, wondering if Elliot Webster was going to end up with both women in his bed. And now, having discovered how passionate and responsive Alexa could be, Coop really hated the thought of her and Webster naked together.
Moreover, he detested the thought of disappointing Alexa in any way. Yet, he couldn’t think of one reason why he needed to live up to her expectations for him. After a week or two, they wouldn’t see each other again. He would be off on another assignment and she would be rubbing shoulders with the crumbs in the upper crust. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be pining away for her.
But still…if he’d had just one magical night with her…
“Stop driving yourself crazy,” Coop burst out loud.
Bandit danced sideways beneath him. Coop sighed heavily as he rubbed the gelding’s tense neck. “Sorry, old boy. I’ve got a woman on my mind and she won’t let go.”
Coop snapped to attention when he saw Lily circle behind the bordello to tether her horse. He veered across the grass to watch her scamper up the fire escape to the second story room that he presumed to be her personal quarters. Interesting. She had a private exit. He wondered if Webster used it occasionally so no one would know how often he visited the madam.
His attention settled on another lone rider who showed up five minutes later to enter the back door on the ground floor. My, the place was busier than a train depot, he noted as he studied the vaguely familiar silhouette. Who the hell was that man? It didn’t look like Webster.
Lust and the need for passion were obviously in the air tonight, Coop mused as he watched the visitor scuttle into the brothel. He ought to know. He was still nursing a ravenous ache for a woman he would never claim.
On that realistic thought Coop rode away to board his horse in the livery then hiked off to sleep alone in his bed.
Chapter Six
Four days later, after having lunch with Elliot at Sawyer’s Café, Alexa wandered down the aisles at the mercantile store. She cringed at the high prices Elliot had marked on several items. She could see why more customers chose to shop at Hampton, Barrett and Figgins Dry Goods Store—which sat on the southeast corner of the square. However, there were a few men milling around the shop, gathering supplies. Mostly miners, she guessed. Apparently they couldn’t purchase their needed tools and supplies at the other store.
Alexa glanced sideways when she heard a disgruntled prospector grumbling while Elliot tallied the purchases.
“If the other store in town hadn’t sold out of horse blankets and axes, I wouldn’t be buying my supplies from you,” muttered the crusty miner, who looked to be in his mid-forties. “You oughta be arrested for highway robbery, Webster.”
Alexa watched Elliot shrug indifferently. When he noticed that she was watching him, he produced a dazzling smile and ambled toward her.
“Please say you’ll marry me, darling. It will make dealing with grumbling customers bearable.”
Apparently the prospector thought Elliot’s proposal was as ill timed and unromantic as she did. The prospector rolled his eyes, shook his frizzy brown head then set a Dutch oven on the counter beside the blanket and tools. “You gonna wait on me or not, Webster?”
Elliot held her gaze and ignored his customer. “Will you marry me?” he persisted.
“I’m still thinking about it. I’ll give you my answer later. This doesn’t seem to be the time or place.”
To her relief, Elliot returned to the disgruntled miner. Using the excuse that she wanted to shop at the local boutiques, Alexa strolled outside. Her gaze reflexively drifted across the street to the entrance of Walker Hotel and then to Valmont Saloon. Her gaze kept seeking out Coop, though she had told herself dozens of times to avoid contact with him.
Inhaling a determined breath, Alexa lifted the front of her skirts and hiked toward the town square. She had to find a way to occupy her time and thoughts until Kate arrived in town to meet her for supper. Otherwise, she was going to drive herself crazy thinking about a man who was completely off-limits!
“Lexi? You’ve been hundreds of miles away the past few days.” Kate jostled Alexa’s arm. “Where are you now?”
Alexa shook herself from her distracting thoughts. She had spent the better part of the day trying not to think about Coop and she had taken great pains not to bump into him. She had also spent the morning pretending to laugh at Elliot’s unamusing remarks and tolerating his touch. Every time she had looked at Elliot, she had visualized him clutching Lily Brantley passionately in his home office while she peeked in the window.
In turn, the thought of that tryst triggered forbidden images of her brief but steamy encounter with Coop in the moonlight.
“Tell me what’s bothering you,” Kate persisted.
Alexa focused on her friend, who sat across the table from her at the restaurant. “I hav
e a lot on my mind,” she said, refusing to admit aloud that Coop was a constant distraction.
Kate smiled dryly. “Obviously. So how goes your courtship with Elliot?” She leaned close to add, “I still can’t believe you find that pretentious bore interesting.”
With each passing day, it became more difficult to convince Kate that she was enamored with Elliot Webster. Kate knew her better than most. They both had aversions to pretentious bores.
“I have discovered that interesting doesn’t have to be a prerequisite for prospective husbands,” she contended. “And look who’s talking, Kate. You’ve been as distracted as I have.”
Kate dodged her direct stare and fiddled with the silverware. “I have a lot on my mind, too.”
You have Miguel on your mind, you mean, thought Alexa. Both of her closest friends had the attention span of gnats lately. They were fighting the attraction valiantly.
Alexa knew what that felt like…and how futile it was.
“Ah, dinner has arrived,” Alexa enthused when the waitress set their plates on the table. Grateful for the reprieve, Alexa dived into her meal and made certain there was nothing but small talk between bites.
Forty-five minutes later, Alexa and Kate exited the restaurant west of the town square. Alexa stopped short when she heard footsteps that indicated a man walking with an uneven gait approached. She glanced sideways to see Coop coming toward them. Tormenting need riveted her when she met his gaze. He nodded mutely as he limped around her and Kate to enter the restaurant they had exited.
Kate strolled toward the awaiting carriage. “Since you quit striking up conversations with Mr. Cooper on the street you’ve stopped the gossiping tongues from wagging. Thank goodness for that. Word got back to Papa and he’s been worrying about you.”
“He can stop fretting. I’ve had no contact with Coop.”
However, she’d had very little to look forward to. Spending time with Elliot hadn’t cured the frustrating yearning. In addition, she should be inspired to work hard on this case now that Coop had practically confessed that he’d joined the enemy camp. Lord, the man was causing her so much mental anguish she was ready to pull out her hair by the roots.
Or do something else equally desperate.
“Where is Elliot tonight?” Kate questioned.
“Previous engagement at the brothel,” she replied as she ambled alongside her friend.
Kate frowned disconcertedly. “I cannot believe you’re letting him get away with that.”
“It appears to be a common practice among the upper crust of society,” Alexa remarked. “I don’t have to like it, but if I accept Elliot’s proposal I will have to deal with it.”
Kate halted abruptly. “His proposal? When did this happen?”
“After lunch. In between the sale of a horse blanket and the Dutch oven that one of his customers purchased.”
“And you said—?” Kate asked anxiously.
“I said I’m still thinking about it. But I do have other offers on the table, you know.”
“Good. Take any of the other offers. I am not an Elliot Webster fan,” Kate said frankly. “I have to try too hard to be nice to the man. Besides, he torments my father regularly.”
You aren’t the only one who has to make an effort to be nice to him! she thought. “Marriages and romance aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. My parents can’t live in the same house. Half a country between them is barely enough of a separation to keep them civil.”
“No offense, Lexi, but I don’t know how anyone could get along with your mother.” She glanced questioningly at Alexa. “How is Bethany managing back East with her?”
Alexa didn’t want to discuss her difficulty in communicating with her younger sister without her spiteful mother’s intervention. She had enough problems on her mind already. Indeed, they were about to burst inside her and she needed relief!
“Miguel?” she called out as they approached the carriage.
“Si, querida? I’m here.” Miguel pushed away from the far side of the buggy where he had been waiting dutifully.
“Please take Kate home then come back for me in two hours,” she requested. “I want to check on Selma Mae. Kate said she didn’t show up for work at the ranch today.”
“No,” Miguel said in no uncertain terms.
“You prefer that I walk to the ranch?” she teased. “That is rather mean-spirited of you.”
“Staying here without a chaperone is not a good idea,” Miguel warned.
Alexa wasn’t sure if his objection had more to do with his concern that she might get herself into trouble or the temptation of being alone with Kate would get him into trouble. Mostly the latter, she suspected.
“Nevertheless, I intend to check on Selma Mae,” Alexa insisted. “I made her welfare my business when I confronted Harlan and I hired her on the spot. If she comes to harm because of my intervention, I want to know. I’ll ask Marshal Henson to accompany me to her home, if that will make you feel better.”
That appeased Miguel. Somewhat. Now he had to escort Kate to the ranch and deal with his attraction to her. Since misery was said to love company, Alexa took solace in knowing Kate and Miguel were fighting a complicated attraction, too. Of course, none of this fazed Coop. He’d made it clear from the beginning that what he wanted from her was physical and temporary.
Unlike the growing fascination been Kate and Miguel, she mused. They had been acquaintances and friends forever. Now their feelings had deepened and expanded over the years. Alexa had no qualms about being their matchmaker, even if Percy Hampton might object. She would worry about that obstacle later.
“I’ll be back in two hours.” Miguel’s voice broke into her wandering thoughts. He handed Kate into the buggy then pivoted to wag his lean finger in Alexa’s face. “But do not get into trouble and don’t try to break up any fights. Agreed?”
Alexa offered him a snappy salute and an impish grin. “Yes, sir. Whatever you say.”
“Whatever I say is always lost on you,” Miguel grumbled as he bounded into the carriage to take the reins. “I’m all that passes for your conscience, and you know it. I want you to feel enormously guilty if you get into a scrape while I’m not there to help.”
“Don’t make him fret, Lexi,” Kate chimed in. “You know he adores you.”
“And I love him, too. Furthermore, I promise not to pick any fights that land me in jail,” she added for good measure.
“That’s what I want to hear,” Miguel said, pacified.
Then off he went with Kate.
Alexa chuckled in amusement as her friends drove out of sight. Then she hiked down Main Street to Gil Henson’s office. She was going to see for herself that Selma Mae Fredericks was all right. Then she was going to decide what to do about this maddening need to be with Coop.
Ten minutes later, she learned that Harlan had smashed his left hand while laying track for the railroad. Selma had stayed home to care for him. Alexa insisted that Selma take another day to tend her husband before returning to Hampton Ranch to resume her employment.
Lingering outside Gil Henson’s office, Alexa stared pensively toward Walker Hotel and Restaurant. She found herself standing on a new threshold, wanting something that no other man had aroused in her. Reckless temptation put her feet in motion. Although questions about her investigation cluttered her mind, Alexa decided they could wait until morning. Right now, selfish impulse controlled her mind and body. She needed relief from the maddening ache that hounded her night and day.
Coop stepped outside the restaurant and told himself the steak he’d had for supper satisfied his appetites sufficiently. It was a lie. Need had been gnawing at him for four days—and nights. The nights were the worst and sleep didn’t come easily.
He glanced speculatively toward Valmont Saloon. Polly Sanders, the calico queen who flirted with him frequently, had offered to help him scratch the itch. He should take her up on it. Coop wheeled toward the saloon and took three steps in that direction
before he stopped short. He had a job to do at night, he reminded himself. He was supposed to ride fences. Webster more or less implied that he should turn his back if he saw the hired hands picking off Hampton and Barrett cattle.
Coop hadn’t actually heard Webster give his men orders to swipe the cattle and rebrand them. He needed to. Plus, he wanted to inspect the livestock to determine the recency of their brands. There was also the possibility that Webster’s men had been instructed to set up the neighbors by placing their brands over the W brand. It wouldn’t be the first time a shrewd crook arranged for his neighbors to look guilty of rustling.
Reversing direction, Coop hobbled toward the hotel. He planned to remove the hindering splints and ride out to Webster’s ranch. If he were lucky, he’d see Webster ducking into the line shack or hear him give an incriminating order. Coop needed something substantial to report to Mr. Chester the following evening when they met in the canyon north of town.
The lobby was vacant when Coop entered the hotel. He assumed the clerk had taken a short break since he wasn’t behind the counter. It was a quiet night in Questa Springs, he noted as climbed the steps stiff-legged.
Coop opened the door to his room—then tensed apprehensively. Scant moonlight filtered into the dark room. He knew the door had been locked, but he still felt a presence inside. He drew his pistol and stepped sideways, in case an unexpected intruder tried to shoot him. Coop had learned years ago to duck and dive to avoid flying bullets.
“It’s me. Close the door, Coop.”
The sultry voice, straight from his fantasies, drifted toward him. When he closed the door behind him, Alexa moved into the spray of light slanting through the window. The breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding sighed out of him as he savored the tantalizing sight of her in the trim-fitting yellow gown.
He slid his pistol into his holster while he stood, spellbound, watching moonbeams illuminate her exquisite features and shapely figure. Bedazzled, he tried to find his voice twice—and succeeded finally.
