by Carol Finch
Suddenly he spun around, using his bulky arms like spinning blades of a windmill. The side-winding blow to her head knocked her off balance but she managed to keep her feet. Her ears ringing and her head pulsating, she lunged forward to ram his own pistol between his eyes before he could pounce on her.
“Dare me, Oscar,” she challenged through gritted teeth.
“You crazy bitch, you don’t know who you’re fooling with,” he growled hatefully.
“Get in the closet. Now,” she demanded in a harsh tone. “You’re exhausting what’s left of my patience.”
She pressed the gun barrel deeply into his flesh, forcing him to walk backward. He called her every crude name in the book while she backed him into the closet. Alexa was grateful the key protruded from the door lock, making it a simple matter to restrain him long enough for her to beat a hasty retreat.
Yet, she knew the flimsy door wouldn’t hold the stout bodyguard indefinitely. Using his thick shoulders as a battering ram, he’d splinter wood and come charging after her within a few moments.
Knowing she wouldn’t have much of a head start, Alexa lurched around and dashed lickety-split into the office to scoop up the incriminating ledger. She predicted that if anyone heard Oscar’s call to arms they’d enter the front door. She didn’t intend to use that route to encounter more hired guns. One was plenty.
Serenaded by Oscar’s fists rattling the closet door and his bellowing shouts filling the air, she scampered toward the window. Heart pounding furiously, she tossed aside the empty weapon then tucked Oscar’s six-shooter in the band of her breeches. She slung one leg over the windowsill, knowing she’d have to jump rather than carefully climb down the outer wall. She tossed out the ledger then followed it through the air.
Her pained hiss mingled with Oscar’s outraged roar as she hit the ground. Her ankle throbbed something fierce when she tried to stand and put weight on it. Grimacing, she grabbed the ledger and hobbled through the garden. Behind her, she heard hinges creaking and wood splintering. Then she saw several men burst from the bunkhouse and dash toward the front door. Alexa gritted her teeth and hobbled to the bushes to fetch her horse.
She mounted the bay gelding and reined toward town, but Oscar was shouting to beat the band, ordering the men to saddle their horses and give chase. She took off like a bat from hell, praying she could outrun the horde of hired guns that Oscar had pressed into service.
As she galloped along the path, she noticed the spiral of smoke from town. Her stomach dropped and she swore under her breath. Obviously Elliot had carried through with his threat to burn out his competition. He hadn’t been able to resist the retaliation, the spiteful bastard. She wondered if he’d staged another rustling incident, too.
He must be getting desperate, she decided as she raced toward town. The final vote for the government contract loomed and he wanted to blacken Hampton’s and Barrett’s good names. However, Elliot didn’t know he was under surveillance. She’d expose him for the treacherous scoundrel he was and put him away for years to come.
A pistol blast echoed in the near distance and Alexa half twisted in the saddle to see five men—with Oscar leading the charge—firing at her. The only chance of escape was to plunge into the thicket of trees and ditch the ledger. She could retrieve it later.
Another volley of bullets resounded around her and burning pain seared through her left shoulder. She flattened herself over her horse and raced into the trees and underbrush. She jerked her horse to a halt to wedge the ledger between the thick branches of a cedar tree. Then she urged her horse to zigzag through the maze of cottonwoods and cedars that lined the shallow creek.
The sound of horse hooves pounding the ground in hot pursuit demanded her full attention again. A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm Alexa when she noticed the shiny stain on her shirtsleeve. Numbness engulfed her arm, which dangled uselessly at her side. Blood trickled down her fingers and its unique coppery scent filled her senses.
Another shot rang through the trees. Alexa slumped forward again, dropping the reins, hoping the horse could find its way back to the livery. Muffled voices came from all directions at once in the hazy darkness that clouded her vision. Alexa tried desperately to remain conscious, but the wound drained more of her strength with each passing second. Then the world went out of focus and she sagged limply against her horse.
She wondered fleetingly if Coop would miss her if she didn’t survive this ordeal. He’d warned her to let him handle this case but she’d been hell-bent on proving her worth to her father.
It didn’t seem quite so important now…
That was her last thought before she blacked out.
Miguel listened to Kate mutter under her breath while Webster’s hired guns planted the rebranded cattle in Hampton pastures. He clutched her arm when she tried to ride off to gather the cattle the moment after the riders left.
“If waiting another few minutes puts the riders out of hearing distance then we wait,” Miguel told her firmly.
Kate sighed heavily then reached out to trail her forefinger over his cheek. “I’m sorry for being difficult. I won’t blame you if you lose interest in me. I’m more like Lexi than you probably thought.”
Miguel chuckled softly then took her hand to press a kiss to her fingertips. “Losing interest isn’t the problem, querida. You know that. I don’t want to lose you, but—”
“Stop right there,” she interrupted. “No buts, Miguel. I love you.”
“Don’t say that,” he murmured, tormented. “You know we can’t be together.”
“I’ll make Papa understand,” she insisted determinedly.
Miguel shook his head. “He won’t allow it. You and I need to accept that.”
Her chin came up. “I refuse to lose you, but we will have to hammer out the details later. Right now, we have to stash these cattle in the same place you and Coop hid the other livestock. Then we need to ride into town. I’m dying to know the extent of the fire damage at the store.”
Miguel trotted from the underbrush when he determined that the coast was clear. In a matter of minutes, they rounded up the six steers from Webster’s herd and drove them to the canyon to join the others he and Coop had placed in makeshift pens.
Circling through the pasture to avoid a confrontation with the gunmen, Miguel and Kate rode into town to notify the marshal and check on the store.
Coop swore colorfully when he saw Miguel and Kate ride into the town square. Alexa still wasn’t accounted for and his concern for her welfare escalated rapidly.
“When was the last time you saw Alexa?” he demanded without preamble.
“I left before she joined Webster for supper,” Miguel replied as he nodded a greeting to Gil, who’d had no luck tracking down Webster. “She said she planned to keep surveillance on him from a safe distance after they parted company this evening.”
“She obviously changed her plans…or had them changed for her,” Coop said. “I saw Webster hightailing it to Lily’s Pleasure Resort, but I have seen nothing of Alexa.”
Kate gestured toward the four riders who halted to survey what was left of the store. “Those men planted rebranded cattle in our herd tonight. Miguel and I stashed them out of sight. I suspect those men are here to summon you, Marshal.”
Coop and Gil appraised the armed riders. “Stall them with the excuse that you’re investigating the origin of the fire,” Coop requested. “No sense of alerting them that two eyewitnesses saw them with the cattle and that one of their cohorts is in jail for arson.”
Kate appraised the store and her shoulders slumped. “There’s nothing worth saving, is there? Thank goodness the fire didn’t spread to such extremes that other shopkeepers lost their businesses.”
“Our firefighters managed to contain the flames.” Gil patted her arm sympathetically. “I wish we could have saved your family’s business.” He drew her attention to the east.
“Your parents arrived a few minutes ago and they’re speaking w
ith the Barretts and Figgins, if you want to see them.”
While Miguel and Kate walked over to join her parents, Coop ambled away before the four riders dismounted. Sure enough, he overheard the men insist that Gil check the Hamptons’s pasture for stolen livestock.
“I have bigger problems than rustling accusations,” Gil said as he hitched his thumb toward the collapsed building.
The men grumbled about the delay but Gil promised to follow up their accusations when time permitted. He sent them off to grab buckets to soak the hot spots where flames threatened to flare again.
Coop kept expecting Webster to show up and plead ignorance about the fire. But minutes ticked by and neither Webster nor Alexa appeared. Finally Coop couldn’t tolerate another minute of suspense. He needed to find Alexa before his concern for her safety drove him completely crazy.
“I’m going to fetch Bandit and have a look around the area,” Coop told Gil. “Alexa should be here. That Webster hasn’t shown up, either, has me worried.”
“I’ll stay here, in case she shows up,” Gil informed him. “Send word to me if you need help.”
Coop strode swiftly across the town square then jogged down the street to the livery stable that sat on the edge of town. He saddled Bandit then led him outside—and stopped in his tracks when a darkly clad body, draped over a bay horse, appeared in the distance. His heart missed several vital beats when he saw tendrils of blond hair protruding from the rim of the cap.
“Son of a bitch!” Coop dropped Bandit’s reins and took off at a dead run to reach the approaching horse.
When he clutched Alexa’s hand, he felt the blood on her fingers and smelled the telltale scent that clung to her. Rage boiled through him, catapulting him through time to relive the same helpless fury and murderous revenge he’d endured when his family had been taken needlessly from him.
For years, Coop had maintained a cautious emotional distance from friends and clients. He’d refused to let anyone close enough to resurrect the torment he’d suffered as a teenager. But Alexa had gotten past his guard and she’d come to matter too much. Just seeing her hurt nearly drove him to his knees. Not knowing the extent of her injuries was killing him, inch by excruciating inch.
“Alexa? Sweetheart?” he whispered as he cupped her chin in his hand and tapped her lightly on the cheek.
She didn’t respond.
Coop pulled himself up behind her on the steed, grabbed Bandit’s reins and headed toward Main Street. When he reached the town square, he scanned the area quickly, hoping to locate Dr. Robinson.
“¡Caramba! What happened to her?”
Coop glanced sideways to see Miguel and Kate sprinting toward him. Then he searched the crowd to locate Gil. “Find the doctor!” he called to the marshal. “Alexa has been shot.”
“Shot?” Kate skidded to a halt and her face turned as white as salt. “Is she going to be all right?”
“I don’t know,” Coop said grimly. “I’m taking her to her hotel room. Send over the doctor as soon as possible.”
When Coop reversed direction, he heard Miguel swearing in Spanish. Obviously he felt personally responsible, too. Coop kept telling himself that he should have kept close tabs on Alexa because he knew how daring and independent she was. Not to mention how determined she was to prove her capabilities to her father by solving this case.
Damn it, if something happened to Alexa he would never be able to forgive himself. It would be like losing his family all over again and having to suffer all that mental anguish. It had been painful enough the first time. Now it would be worse.
Coop battled to keep a firm grasp on his roiling emotions as he halted the horse at the hitching post outside Walker Hotel. Carefully he eased Alexa’s limp body from the saddle and held her in his arms. Her head rolled over his arm and came to rest against his chest. When he looked into her ashen face another flashback from the past robbed him of breath. She looked deathly pale and as lifeless as his father and brother…
Coop clenched his jaw, pushed aside the morbid thought and strode into the empty lobby. It seemed everyone was in the town square, discussing the destructive fire. Everyone except Webster and his paramour, Coop thought bitterly.
Out of breath from hurrying up the steps with Alexa in his arms, Coop pivoted toward her rented room. The locked door didn’t slow him down much. With a full head of steam, he used his shoulder like a battering ram. The lock and doorjamb gave way on the second hit. Then he kicked the door shut with his boot heel.
Coop grabbed a towel from the commode. Then, balancing Alexa’s motionless body over one arm, he peeled off her bloodstained shirt.
He nearly collapsed in relief when he discovered the bullet wound was on her shoulder, not her chest. He determined that she had a fighting chance, as long as she hadn’t lost too much blood. Hurriedly he blotted a damp towel over the injury so he could get a better look at it. After he laid her on the bed, he covered her modestly with a sheet.
His medical skills were rudimentary at best. He knew how to use natural remedies, while roughing it in the wilderness, but he had nothing at his disposal except a tin of poultice that he kept with his belongings.
On that thought, he bounded up to fetch the salve from his room and one of his shirts for her to wear after the doctor treated her injury. He was back in a flash to dab the pasty substance over her jagged flesh.
“Mr. Cooper? It’s Doc Robinson.”
Coop never took his eyes off Alexa’s peaked face for even a moment. “Come in.”
She’d been so vibrant and active, he mused as he stared at her. It seemed unnatural for her to lie there, bleeding all over herself…and it tormented him to the extreme.
“What happened to the door?” the doctor asked on his way past the lopsided slab of wood.
“I had to unlock it the hard way.”
The gray-haired physician cracked a smile as he sank on the opposite side of the bed. His expression sobered when he got his first look at Alexa. When he inched down the sheet, noting Alexa was bare to the waist, his brows furrowed. “Did you remove her clothing? I’m not even sure you should be here while I examine her, much less while I prepare her for possible surgery.”
Coop stared at the doctor as intently as he’d stared down countless outlaws. “She’s my responsibility and my partner. You can try to convince me to leave, but you’ll waste valuable time.”
The physician was the first to break eye contact. Clearly he wasn’t an expert at showdowns or staring contests. “Well then, let’s get her stitched up,” he murmured. “You can guard the door. Her friends are only a few minutes behind me.”
Elliot Webster scowled irritably when an interruptive knock rattled the door to Lily’s spacious, second-story suite in the brothel. “Who is it? This damn well better be important!”
“It’s me, boss…and it is important,” Oscar Denton called from the other side of the door.
Swearing crudely, Elliot leaned away from the bed to grab his trousers. Lily snatched up a frilly robe to cover herself.
“Stay here,” Elliot demanded. “I’ll speak to him in the sitting room.”
He stepped into his breeches on his way to the door. “What’s so damn important? You know I didn’t want any of my hired men in the vicinity on this particular night.”
“Things got complicated,” Oscar muttered as Elliot clamped hold of his elbow and jerked him into the sitting room.
“This can’t be about the fire because I could see the flames and smell smoke from here,” he said impatiently. “So what is it? A problem with planting the stolen cattle for the marshal to see?”
“No, it’s about your fiancée,” Oscar replied.
Elliot frowned, bemused. “What about her?”
“You got more than you bargained for, I’m afraid. I caught her in your office, dressed in men’s clothes. I pulled her out from under your desk. She’d been snooping before I noticed her.”
“What?” Elliot howled incredulously. “Alexa?”
“She ain’t your usual bit of fluff,” Oscar assured him. “She stuffed a pistol between my eyes and then backed me into the closet so she could escape. Me and some of the men chased her and fired shots. I don’t know if a bullet found its mark because she plunged into the trees beside the creek. It was hard to track her in the dark.”
Elliot’s head spun like a carousel, trying to assimilate the startling facts with the socialite he thought he knew.
“She claimed she was checking your finances to make sure you were what you appeared to be before she married you.”
Elliot’s eyes widened in horror. “She saw my ledger?”
Oscar shrugged his buffalo-size shoulders. “Don’t know about that, boss. I was too busy trying to figure out how to disarm her without getting my head blown off. Then I had to break down the door because she locked me in the closet.”
Dozens of worrisome scenarios rushed to Elliot’s mind. His grand visions of gaining financial, political and social prominence, by riding Harold and Alexa Quinn’s coattails, were flying out the window. Alexa had duped him and had acquired incriminating information that would ruin what was left of his reputation and strip him of his dwindling wealth.
The thought sent wild desperation and panic coursing through him. He had to do something—and quickly!
“I have to silence her,” Elliot mused aloud as he paced from wall to wall. “All the better if you managed to shoot her. Maybe she’s lying on the ground somewhere. We have to find her and dispose of her.” He lurched around to face Oscar. “Send one of the men to the town square. I need to know what rumors and speculations are spreading about the fire and about Alexa’s whereabouts. That Mexican bodyguard who follows her around like a devoted pup should know something.”
Oscar spun on his heels. “We’ll see what we can find out.”
“I hope the hell you do a better job with this than you did of apprehending my cunning fiancée,” he said darkly. “You can be replaced at a moment’s notice, you know.”
