Cooper's Woman (10 page)

“I'm thinking about it,” she muttered angrily.

“Make up your mind, princess. If Miguel is out there somewhere, ready to rush to your rescue, I don't want to have to hurt him, just because his employer is a reckless daredevil who doesn't have enough sense to fill a thimble.”

He figured that comment would infuriate her. Sure nuff.

“You're a bastard! And you're right. Miguel has a rifle sighted on you. Now let me up!”

Coop scanned the area. He knew Alexa had eluded Miguel's protection on a few occasions. She might have duped her bodyguard tonight, too. Seeing no one, he focused his irritation and offended dignity on Alexa.

“I want to know why you're posing as a representative for your father.”

“None of your business. I told you, you're fired. Besides, how good of a detective can you be if you couldn't figure out who
I
was?”

The snide question caused him to gnash his teeth, even if she did have a point. She had fooled him completely, which didn't say much for his skills of observation. But in his defense he said, “That was a sneaky trick and you never let me close enough to tell who you were. But what matters is that you aren't going to fire me because I'm not ready to quit—”

Catching her off guard, he slammed his pistol barrel against hers. The unexpected blow knocked the weapon from her hand. She shrieked and tried to
whack
him upside the head. Coop grabbed her wrist before she could do any real damage.

“Hold still, damn it,” he barked at her.

“Get off me, damn it,” she muttered, and then bit his hand.

Coop shook his stinging hand and stared at the wildcat in disbelief. He kept seeing Mr. Chester's wire-rimmed glasses and bearded face superimposed on Alexa's delicate features. The contrasting images kept distracting him.

He decided to let her up before she bit a few more chunks out of his hide. He bounded to his feet then hauled her up beside him. When he jerked the beard from her face, she squawked in pain.

“Serves you right, you little termagant,” he said unsympathetically as he removed her glasses and stuck them in his shirt pocket. “Does your father know what you're doing?”

“That isn't your concern,” she mumbled as she rubbed her tender chin. “All you need to know is that you can leave town whenever you please. The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned. I'll handle this case myself.”

Coop quick-marched Alexa to her horse. Instead of assisting her onto the saddle, he climbed aboard, and then offered his hand to her.

When she stared at his hand, as if she preferred to bite it rather than accept it, he said, “Ride or walk. You decide. Doesn't make a damn bit of difference to me.”

She grumbled under her breath—calling him a few foul names, he suspected—but she took his hand and allowed him to situate her behind him on the horse. Coop moved his pistols out of her reach and stuffed them in the front waistband of his breeches. When he trotted to the place where he had tied Bandit, he plucked up Alexa and deposited her on his horse.

However, he refused to hand her the reins. He led the way through the trees and halted at the spot where oversize boulders and trees lined the river, providing protection, so he and Alexa wouldn't become sitting ducks if someone attacked.

“You and I are going to have a long talk, princess,” he said ominously.

“I'm not a princess and I have nothing more to say to you,” she said with stubborn defiance.

“Tough. I want to know exactly what's going on and you're going to tell me.”

She made a spectacular production of clamping her lips shut and thrusting out her chin. Try as he might, he couldn't squelch a grin. She was feisty, headstrong, daring and courageous. He couldn't believe his first impression of her had been so far off the mark. She'd put on a convincing act that threw him and everyone else off track.

“I don't appreciate the fact that you purposely misled me,” he complained as he pulled her off Bandit.

“I don't have to answer to you,” she sassed him.

Coop blew out his breath. “I do not envy Miguel his job as your bodyguard. Where is the poor man? Did you stuff him down a well or poison him again?”

She flashed him a go-to-hell-and-stay-there glare. It didn't faze him. Outlaws had been giving him that look for years. He was immune. “I can tie you up and torture the information out of you. Or you can be nice and cooperate.”

“It takes someone
nice
to bring out the nice in me,” she shot back.

She wheeled around, stuck her nose in the air and ignored him. Coop bit back an amused snicker. The woman didn't know when to quit. Plus, she was blasting his preexisting perception of her all to hell. To prove that he meant business he grabbed a strip of leather from his saddlebag, walked up behind her and lashed her hands to an overhanging tree branch. She glared at him but he disregarded her expression of outraged disgust.

Careful not to come within kicking distance, Coop crossed his arms over his chest and stood with feet askance. “Now let's hear it and don't leave anything out.”

“You want to hear it? Fine. I think you are a bullying brute and I rue the day I hired you,” she smarted off. “I swear
you
passed around those exaggerated tales of your legendary heroics as a lawman and detective, just to drum up business. You are a liar and a cheat and I don't like you one whit!”

“Forget about your personal feelings for me,” he said dismissively. “I want to know what this case is really about. Obviously it isn't about checking out Webster as possible marriage material. Now that I know the real you, I realize you have been investigating him all by yourself. You found out a lot of things you wanted to know about the bastard.”

The comment seemed to please her and that surprised him. Which only proved how little Coop understood women. This one in particular. She confused the hell out of him.

Pleased though she appeared to be, she still didn't offer an explanation so Coop said, “I'm not kidding about the torture tactics.” He flashed his most vicious glare and towered over her like a thundercloud. “Don't make me wring the information out of you. I don't want to hurt you, except as my last resort.”

She took a long time before answering. Which indicated how little she trusted him not to betray her confidence. That hurt. He didn't want to delve into the reason why her opinion mattered. It just did.

Alexa met his stony stare. “Are you going to help Webster set up my friend's father as a rustler?”

“Hell no, but I did see Webster's men putting an
H
brand and a
B
brand over the
W
brand. I'm withholding that information to relay to Gil Henson when the timing is right.

“And even though you probably don't believe me, I figured the easiest way to come and go from Webster's ranch without drawing suspicion was to pretend to work for him.”

She studied him pensively for a moment. “All right, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt…for the moment. Besides, I've been feeling guilty about deceiving you. That is, when I wasn't furious with you for what I thought was betrayal.”

He frowned curiously. “Why did you deceive me?”

“Because I doubted you would have taken me seriously if I'd asked to be involved in this case and insisted that you report to me. So I became someone I thought you could take seriously.” She brought his attention to her bound hands. “If you untie me I'll tell you what's really going on with this investigation,” she bartered.

Coop cocked his head and eyed her skeptically. “We have a real dilemma, princess. You're not sure you can trust me completely and I feel the same way about you. I think you might shoot me if I give you an opening.”

“Me?” she tittered innocently. “Really, Mr. Cooper, you give me far too much credit. We socialites just don't have it in us to do any such thing. Our only objective is to amuse ourselves constantly.”

His gaze narrowed. “You can drop that fluff-headed routine with me. I know that isn't the real you. The real you is half wildcat and half crafty fox.”

Alexa beamed at the compliment, although he hadn't meant it as one.

“Answer me this,” he insisted as he untied her hands in a gesture of good faith. “Who is the caped crusader I saw at the line shack and again while I was galloping across Webster's pasture looking for rustlers? Was that Miguel?”

Alexa peeled off the padding on her chest then unfastened the oversize breeches. Coop watched her reduce fifty pounds in nothing flat. Beneath the padding were trim breeches and a black shirt.

“Oh hell, it's you.” He glanced suspiciously at the carpetbag tied behind the saddle of her horse. “How many other characters are you carrying around in your luggage?”

“That's all…for this case, at least.” She rolled up the Mr. Chester-disguise and tucked it into her carpetbag, along with the glasses she retrieved from his shirt pocket.

Coop shook his head in amazement. “Your father approves of this? Is he insane?”

“My father doesn't know I'm involved in the investigation.” She stared threateningly at him. “If you try to blackmail me I'll make you dreadfully sorry. And Miguel will help me torture you within an inch of your life.”

Coop smirked at her threat. Alexa watched him sink down on a chair-size boulder near the tumbling rapids. No doubt, he planned to use the sound of rushing water to drown out their conversation—in case someone was listening.

Coop was very thorough, she'd give him that. She would have to remember that tactic. It might come in handy.

“My pretended interest in Webster is my excuse for being in Questa Springs,” she admitted. “Visiting the Hamptons makes me accessible for his courtship and my subtle investigation.”

Alexa sank next to him. Immediately she became aware of the hopeless attraction that had been her complete downfall one reckless night not so long ago. “This is about the possibility of one of my father's advisors providing Webster with inside information. Government contracts for the military posts and Indian reservations will be negotiated this month. Elliot got wind that my father isn't pleased with present arrangements. Elliot has been defrauding the forts and reservations by delivering substandard food and livestock. The committee is taking other applications and Elliot is playing up to my father and to me so he can promote his own agenda.”

“He wouldn't be the first to shortchange the Indian tribes,” Coop replied. “Sick horses and rancid beef have been sold as prime stock to reservations in Texas, Indian Territory and Arizona for years.”

“My father prefers to give the contract to one or both of Webster's honest neighbors,” she explained. “Hampton is one of them and Barrett is the other. Which suggests that Webster wants to ruin their reputation as ranchers to ensure that he receives the contract.”

“You think the unidentified man at the line shack might be the informant or his agent,” Coop presumed. “He was here two days ago, by the way. I followed Webster that night. Short of bursting inside the shack with pistols drawn, I couldn't get a detailed description.”

Alexa sighed in disappointment. “I had hoped Webster would invite his coconspirator to his home, the same way he did his concubine. So far I've only seen Oscar Denton and a few hired gunmen hovering around while I'm at Webster's ranch.”

She shivered repulsively. She didn't like the way Denton stared at her when he thought she wasn't looking. It made her skin crawl. Furthermore, she preferred not to be alone with him unless she was heavily armed.

“Now that I know exactly what I'm looking for I can get better results,” Coop insisted. “You can clear out of Questa Springs to rejoin your father in Santa Fe.”

Alexa snapped up her chin. “I will do no such thing. I intend to prove to my father that I'm capable and worth—” She shut her mouth so quickly that she bit the end of her tongue.

Coop eyed her speculatively. “Your father doesn't appreciate you, is that it?”

“I'm sick to death of playing hostess to his social and political gatherings,” she confided. “He doesn't expect more from me, but I do. He adheres to the same conventional philosophy as most men. He thinks women need to be protected, tended to and cared for. But if I'm partially responsible for exposing Webster's underhanded dealings, Papa will recognize my potential and grant me the freedom to live my life as I choose.”

“All the same, Webster is dangerous, especially when threatened. If you get in his way, or if he figures out that you have been investigating him, he won't go easy on you just because you're female. I've known dozens of men like him, princess.”

She shook her finger at him. “Call me princess one more time and I'll shoot both your kneecaps,” she threatened. “I don't know why you resent my money so much. I don't resent
you
because you're being a complete ass.”