Cooper's Woman (20 page)

“I love you. I didn't want to, tried not to, but I do…”

Her head rolled against his arm and she slumped motionlessly against his chest.

Coop agonized over her quiet confession. He knew a wild pendulum of emotion prompted her words. She had suffered fear, injury, shock and relief in the course of a few hours. She probably thought that she should love him since they had become intimate. But that was just emotional turmoil speaking for her. Besides, she didn't fit into his rough-and-tumble world. And certainly, he didn't fit into her privileged lifestyle.

As Miguel kept harping at him, a man needed to know his place in society without harboring unrealistic expectations. Nonetheless, a part of him thrilled to her muffled confession, even if she'd probably prefer to take it back after she recovered from her injuries and returned to an even keel.

His conflicting thoughts trailed off when he saw the posse, carrying torches, moving up the canyon trail. To Coop's dismay, Gil reported that Webster and his paramour were not in custody. That slippery bastard had double-crossed Denton and had escaped. Fortunately Webster didn't know that his hostage was free. Coop planned to be the one to tell him—face-to-face.

Coop eased Alexa's unconscious body onto Miguel's lap. “Take good care of her, my friend.”

Miguel blinked, startled. “Where are you going?”

“To Santa Fe. This investigation isn't over yet and we're running out of time.” He glanced down at Alexa's lovely but battered face and smiled. “Ask her to fetch the ledger she hid, when she feels up to it. I'll see that she receives full credit for ferreting out the information needed for evidence.” He reined sideways then halted. “Have my belongings sent to my office in Albuquerque.”

“As you wish,
gringo.
I'm sure you'll see that justice is served.”

Coop headed north, following the Indian trail that topped the mountain ridge. Leaving Alexa behind was the single most difficult task he'd ever undertaken.

Their partnership was officially dissolved, he told himself. He never would have met her at all if she hadn't wanted to prove her potential to her father. He should be grateful for the precious time he had spent with her.

Harold would take her seriously now, Coop assured himself. Especially if he sang her praises to high heaven. And he would, too. It was the least he could do for Alexa. Harold wouldn't hold her back, not after he'd nearly lost her. No one would hold that free-spirited female back now, Coop predicted.

Alexa was vibrant, full of life and eager to spread her independent wings. She'd be fine.

He couldn't say the same for himself because there was a big empty hole in his chest where his heart used to be.

 

“
He left?
What do you mean he left?” Alexa howled at Miguel. “You couldn't have told me that
before
you crammed more sedatives down my throat sometime in the past twenty-four hours? Damn it, Miggy!”

“I told you she wouldn't take it well,” Kate reminded Miguel, who had drawn the short straw and had been required to deliver the news.

“Coop went to Santa Fe,” Miguel continued. “He told me to tell you that he would wrap up the case and assure Harold that you played the dominant role in acquiring the facts.”

“I damn well intend to be on hand when Elliot tries to grab the ransom and head for the hills.”

Her voice fizzled out when she tried to stand up abruptly. The room spun crazily, forcing Alexa to sit or fall.

“See there?” Kate chastised her. “You are not healthy enough to endure a lengthy stagecoach and train ride. Coop can handle the situation in Santa Fe. You said yourself that he's the best there is in the detective business.”

Alexa wilted back to her pillow. Despite what her dearest friends thought,
she
knew the real reason Coop had left in a flaming rush. She had made the crucial mistake of telling him that she was in love with him and it had scared him off.

Nothing much scared Wyatt Cooper, but that had done it. He'd decided to get out while the getting was good. Alexa knew that he could have sent a telegram to the Santa Fe police department and had them swoop in on Elliot or Norville Thomas—or both—when someone came to pick up the ransom money. This was Coop's subtle way of telling her that he didn't return her deep feelings. He had told her from the beginning that he didn't want a permanent business partner. So that was that.

“Besides, you can't leave Questa Springs yet. You promised the citizens a town-wide celebration,” Kate said with a wry grin. “Selma Mae forged ahead with your previous arrangements and turned it into a thank-you party for your part in ridding the community of Webster and his hired guns.”

“Exactly right,” Miguel chimed in. “At Coop's suggestion, Gil offered the abandoned mercantile store to Kate's father and his partners to compensate for Webster burning them out. You and Coop are heroes in these parts. One of you needs to be the guest of honor for the celebration.”

Alexa didn't want to be hailed as a hero. She wanted Coop back. If she had kept her trap shut, he might still be here. Given time to wear him down, he might have agreed to let her assist in one more investigation. Followed by another. And then another. Before he knew it, they might have become permanent partners.

But now he was gone and soon he'd be off to who-knew-where to investigate who-knew-what. She wouldn't have the opportunity to see him for months. By then, any concern and sympathy he might have felt for her would fizzle out and it would be difficult to talk him into any future arrangements.

Damnation, it had taken her a while to convince him to let her become his
temporary
partner.
Permanent
would be out of the question if she didn't act quickly.

“I'm not going to make your travel arrangements for sooner than the day
after
the celebration,” Miguel announced.

“I'm not in a festive mood,” Alexa said grouchily.

“You will be by Saturday,” Kate assured her cheerfully.

Alexa glared at her smiling friends. “I want it known that I'm only attending under protest.”

“Point noted,” said Kate, swallowing an amused snicker. “Nonetheless you will be our guest of honor. Instead of
marrying
that weasel, Webster, you are instrumental in having him
jailed.
That makes you one of the most popular personalities in town.”

Alexa set aside her disappointment over Coop's absence for the moment and glanced speculatively between Miguel and Kate. “And what, I would like to know, are you two going to do about your situation?”

Both of her friends looked everywhere except at her. Miguel appeared tormented by the direct question and Kate looked miserable.

“I'm going to accompany you back to Santa Fe,” Miguel said belatedly. “That is my job as your chaperone and bodyguard.”

“That is easy to solve,” Alexa said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “You're fired. I can take care of myself.”

Miguel smirked mockingly. “Of course, you can. That's why you're lying in bed, nursing a gunshot wound, a tender ankle, a bruised cheek. Compliments of a couple of near brushes with catastrophe. You call that taking care of yourself?”

Alexa flashed him a challenging stare. “But I solved the case…partially…didn't I?”

“Yes, and you're still alive, thanks to Coop's educated guess as to where to find you. And you'll notice that he's the last man standing, not you.” Miguel doubled over to brush a brotherly kiss over her brow. “Rest now,
querida.
You need to be the perfect party hostess, come Saturday.”

When her friends exited so she could catch a nap, Alexa expelled a heavy sigh. Coop had only been gone for a day and she missed him terribly. If she gave up on these intense feelings of affection, how long would it take to get over him? Two months? Two years? Two decades? Never?

Never
was probably closer to the mark, she decided as she closed her eyes and prayed that she would awake feeling revived and rejuvenated. She was not going to lie flat on her back with her arm in a sling for too long a time. She needed activity to thrive and survive. But most of all she needed Coop to make her happy.

That was her last thought before weariness claimed her and she fell asleep, wishing for the impossible.

F
rom his hiding place inside Harold Quinn's stable, Coop watched a now-familiar silhouette scurry toward the well where the ransom pouch had been deposited a quarter of an hour earlier. Coop had ridden hell-for-leather to reach Santa Fe, with just enough time to spare to pose a few questions at the territorial commissary and to brief his client. The arrangements for the ransom pickup had been made and carried out according to Coop's specifications. Except for one exasperating detail.

Coop glanced over his shoulder at Harold who, like his daughter, thought he needed to be in on the action.
Must run in the family,
Coop decided. After meeting Harold, and realizing he was sincere and determined to resolve the situation, Coop knew this wasn't a publicity stunt. The man simply wanted revenge for being scared half to death when he learned the culprits had captured Alexa and demanded ransom money, along with the absurd demand to renew the government contract. Plus, there was no question in Coop's mind that Harold was exceptionally fond of his daughter.

“That two-faced, devious son of a bitch,” Harold said with a hiss. “If I had known then what you found out at the commissary about Norville Thomas being Elliot Webster's stepbrother, I might have figured out that he was involved in embezzling military and reservation supplies and selling them for profit.”

“That's why they tried to keep it quiet,” Coop murmured.

Alexa had mentioned to him that she hadn't made the connection that initially led to the partnership between Thomas and Webster, though she was the one who tied the two swindlers together through notations in the ledgers. Coop had asked around the military supply post until he uncovered the truth.

Now Coop would make it his mission to see that the cunning stepbrothers could spend more time together—by occupying adjacent cells at the penitentiary.

When Harold saw Thomas squatting to draw the bucket from the well, he tried to bolt forward. Coop rammed an elbow into his chest to hold him in place.

“You stay here,” he demanded. “Having one Quinn injured during this case is one too many. Let me do my job.”

Harold sighed audibly. “Fine, but I have a few choice words to spout at the dishonest bastard.”

“You can spout at him all you want once I have him in custody.”

Coop slipped out the door and moved stealthily along the outer wall. With both pistols drawn, he crept toward Thomas, who had his back to him.

“Drop the pouch and your pistol,” Coop ordered sharply.

Thomas half turned to smirk haughtily at the command. “Apparently you weren't informed of the demands. If I don't walk out of here with the money then Alexa Quinn won't survive. Depend on it.”

Coop shrugged carelessly. “That isn't my problem, Thomas. You're the one with the serious problem.” He smiled sardonically. “You need to figure out how you're going to walk out of here alive when you have to deal with me.”

“Who are you?” Thomas asked insolently.

“Wyatt Cooper of Cooper Investigations.”

“Oh hell,” Thomas muttered as he raised his pistol into firing position.

Coop's first shot sent sparks flying off Thomas's pistol. It flipped over his wrist and tumbled to the dirt. Howling in pain, Thomas grabbed his bloody hand and tried to take off at a dead run. Coop's second shot hit him in the back of the knee, causing him to stumble forward. Coop pounced, forcing Thomas facedown in the grass. In a flash, he fastened the cuffs in place.

“Good work, Coop,” Harold panted, out of breath from his mad dash across the lawn to stand over the downed captive. “As for you, Thomas, a mere court-martial for defrauding the army isn't enough punishment for you and your stepbrother.”

Thomas jerked up his head, his eyes wide in surprise.

Harold nodded and smiled triumphantly. “That's right. We know who you are. Coop discovered the family connection and also identified you as the messenger who relayed confidential information from here to Questa Springs,” Harold said, taking grand satisfaction in informing him. “Now tell us where Webster is hiding out or you might bleed to death before your court-martial.”

Thomas stuck out his chin and glared belligerently at Harold.

“Harold, take a walk, will you?” Coop requested. “I think Thomas prefers to pass along that information in private.”

“Like hell—ouch!” Thomas yelped when Coop applied persuasive pressure to his injured hand.

Clearly Harold wanted to be present for the interrogation, but he finally turned around and walked off to the spacious mansion on the hill. Hell of a castle, Coop mused as he appraised Alexa's home again. If the visit to her house to confer with Harold earlier wasn't enough to convince Coop that he and Alexa lived in different worlds and hailed from vastly different backgrounds nothing would. He wasn't far off the mark when he teasingly referred to her as princess. She was as close to royalty as Coop would likely ever get.

When Harold was out of earshot, Coop turned his attention to Thomas. He resorted to several tried-and-true tactics that prompted criminals to volunteer crucial information. It wasn't long before his prisoner broke the silence.

“He's waiting for me at Rose's Pleasure Parlor,” Thomas gritted out grudgingly.

“Ah yes, Lily's infamous sister,” Coop said, making certain Thomas knew that he was aware of the information network that had been set up in the territory. “One last question. Who has been providing the information that you pass along to your stepbrother?”

“Go to hell,” Thomas snarled hatefully.

“Been there a time or two. The devil sends his regards. He's counting your days until you take up permanent residence with him,” Coop retorted as he applied more pressure.

“Ambrose Shelton,” he squawked in pain then gasped for breath. “The arrogant bastard didn't even realize Rose pumped him for information when he paid his weekly visits. Then she double-checked what she'd heard with another of her clients, Ben Porter, who had a loose tongue himself. Then Rose, damn her fickle hide, decided to take on another client against my wishes and I—”

When Thomas stopped talking abruptly and clamped his mouth shut, Coop dug his knee a little deeper into Thomas's spine. “Go on. I'm listening.”

“It has nothing to do with the information network,” he ground out.

“Perhaps not but you've piqued my curiosity.” Coop applied another degree of persuasive pressure and said, “You might as well know that I won't let you up until you spill it.”

Thomas groaned in pain, cursed Coop foully then said, “Rose betrayed me with another man.”

Coop frowned and wondered how a prostitute could be loyal, given her chosen profession.

“She started playing favorites with him and I went after him with a shotgun one afternoon. She swore I was the one she really cared about. But she was looking for better connections that I could provide.”

Coop thought Thomas should have selected a higher class of woman, but considering that he was a liar, swindler and a thief, he supposed Thomas had gotten exactly what he deserved.

Satisfied with the information that would lead to several convictions, Coop came to his feet to haul Thomas up beside him. The future-
former
quartermaster of the territorial commissary was on his way to jail.

Coop gave a shout to summon the two police officers who were waiting at the house. After they marched Thomas away, Coop strode back to the stables to fetch Bandit.

Harold was waiting for him. After Coop gave the boiled down version of his conversation with Thomas, Harold shook his head in dismay. “And to think I was there—” He shut his mouth, muttered under his breath then added, “The flower sisters need to be shut down immediately.”

“On my way through Albuquerque I informed the marshal about the information network at Daisy's Pleasure Haven. He's shutting it down today,” Coop reported. “I'll have the police arrest Rose after I locate Webster and Lily.” Coop's gaze narrowed sternly. “I refuse to let Webster sneak off again. He caused Kate and Alexa too much pain and anguish. I want to make damn certain he's behind bars.”

“So do I.” Smiling gratefully, Harold extended his hand to Coop. “I am indebted to you and so is Alexa.”

Coop lifted his shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “As I explained to you earlier, Alexa was directly responsible for uncovering crucial information and tying it together to give us the leads we needed to solve the case.”

“Don't remind me,” Harold said, grimacing. “She took a more active role in the investigation than I wanted. I'll never be able to restrain that headstrong daughter of mine now that she's had a taste of adventure and excitement.”

“No, probably not, so I suggest you don't try. She's meant for greater challenges,” Coop said before he strode off to grab Bandit's reins. “After I tie up the loose ends at Rose's Pleasure Parlor, I'll circle back here before I head south to my headquarters.”

“My thanks, Coop,” Harold called after him.

“You should be more grateful than you even realize,” Coop said under his breath.

Harold was unaware of how much effort it required for Coop to walk away from the only woman who truly mattered to him. Which was exactly why Coop had made a solemn pact with himself to have no future contact with Alexa—for her sake as well as his own. She needed and deserved a man who traveled in the same social circle. Someone dignified and respectable, who carried Harold's stamp of approval. Not a rough-edged gunfighter whose secretive past had to remain dead and buried because it would reflect badly on Alexa and Harold.

Two more arrests and you can ride away for good,
Coop told himself as he trotted into town to enter Rose's Pleasure Parlor.

 

A quarter of an hour later Coop greeted the unsuspecting Elliot Webster with two loaded pistols and the terse command to raise his hands above his head—and keep them there.

“What are you doing here?” Webster asked in stunned surprise. “And what happened to your limp?”

“The limp was Alexa's idea to throw you off track,” Coop informed him. “She's the one who figured out how you were passing privileged information and selling military supplies.”

“Alexa?” Webster hooted, his hands still over his head, as Coop demanded.

“Yes, my partner in investigation. We worked this case together. You should know that she never had the slightest intention of marrying you,” Coop took great pleasure in telling him.

Webster sniffed disrespectfully. “For damn sure she won't want a commoner like you so don't think you'll have more luck getting hold of her family's money than I did.”

“I wasn't planning to ask her to marry me,” Coop replied as he grabbed one of Webster's wrists, and secured him to the carved bedposts.

Hell, he'd been the
first
to realize that he was the
last
man Alexa needed.

“By the way, Gil Henson sent a telegram stating that Alexa sent him out to retrieve the incriminating ledger as evidence of your shady business dealings.”

Webster scowled at the news.

“In addition, the hired guns you sent to start the fire at your competition's store have agreed to testify against you.” Coop grinned wickedly. “Good luck with your upcoming court case and your stepbrother's court-martial. I'm sure justice will prevail.”

Webster muttered and swore profusely.

Coop summoned several law officers to transport Webster to jail, along with Lily and Rose Brantley. All three of them glared mutinously at Coop, but he didn't pay the slightest attention. He simply mounted Bandit and rode away.

A rueful smile pursed his lips as his thoughts drifted back to the bittersweet memories that were never far from mind. Damn, he was going to miss Alexa like crazy. Her touch, her indomitable spirit, her quick wit. The feel of her luscious body moving intimately against his in the heat of passion…

Coop squelched the erotic thought. For one reckless, whimsical moment, he glanced in the direction of Questa Springs, the town that was nestled in a plush green valley between the hazy mountains to the southeast. Then he convinced himself that he could never go back because he wasn't strong enough to leave her twice.

Alexa would make a full recovery. Caring, reliable friends surrounded her. She didn't need him anymore and he needed to accept another assignment that would occupy his time and his mind.

On that sensible thought, Coop trotted off to deliver his final report to Harold before riding back to his headquarters.

 

Alexa felt considerably better by the time the city-wide celebration began. The two local bands were stationed at opposite corners of the town square, playing lively tunes. There was enough food placed on the makeshift tables to feed an army. Countless citizens stopped by to thank her for her contribution of exposing Elliot Webster for the conniving shyster he was.