Читать книгу Cooper's Woman - Carol Finch - Страница 10

Santa Fe, New Mexico Territory, 1880s

Alexa Quinn stood tensely in the doorway of the ballroom. Although the last half-dozen guests were milling about, her attention and her thoughts fixated on her father and Elliot Webster. The pair stood beside the fireplace, each with a drink in hand. Elliot had dogged Alexa’s steps most of the evening and she sincerely hoped he hadn’t pulled her father aside to ask for her hand in marriage. Dissatisfied as she was with her life, it would be infinitely more boring if she married Elliot. Even his dashing good looks, wealth and outward charm couldn’t overshadow the fact that Alexa didn’t like him.

She had learned to trust her instincts, as they pertained to zealous suitors, and they hadn’t failed her yet.

“You’ve done it again, my dear,” Benjamin Porter praised as he approached. “No one hosts a better party in Santa Fe. I’m sure your father is exceptionally proud of your skills.”

Alexa dragged her anxious gaze away from her father and Elliot Webster to nod graciously to the short, pasty-faced math whiz who was one of her father’s closest advisors. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate that.”

The truth was that Alexa didn’t give a whit if she could organize a political or social function for her father and see that it ran smoothly. Harold Quinn might have fulfilled his ambitions as the territorial governor’s appointed director of finance, who also served in several other capacities, and was considered the governor’s most trusted counselor. She even understood that her father was preoccupied with his administrative duties to serve the greater good. Still, it was hard on her pride to know that her father saw right past her more often than not. Furthermore, he hadn’t realized her potential. That cut her to the core.

Her ambition extended beyond social director for his political gatherings. Her soul was screaming for the opportunity to find her true calling. She definitely couldn’t find it if her father consented to a match with Elliot Webster.

After Ben Porter strode out the door, Ambrose Shelton approached. “Your party was passable,” he remarked as he straightened the cuff of his black jacket.

You sourpuss, thought Alexa. The puffy-jowled, round bellied gent never failed to find more fault than praise with his acquaintances. According to her father, Ambrose Shelton had a brilliant political mind. His perspectives and guidance were invaluable.

Alexa was in no position to argue with her father’s opinion, but she thought Ambrose had the social skills of a cranky grizzly. Keeping her observation of the dour, middle-aged, slightly balding man to herself, she said wryly, “There’s a chill in the air tonight, Ambrose. Don’t catch cold and lose your voice.”

Ambrose snapped up his double chin. His ferretlike gray eyes bore into her. He puffed up to such extremes that she thought he might pop like an over-inflated balloon.

She flashed him a teasing grin, knowing she had gone too far with her father’s valued associate. Mentally scrambling she added, “I don’t know how Papa would manage if he couldn’t hear your wise advice.”

A tense moment passed. Then Alexa noticed a small crack in his stern veneer. She thought Ambrose might have smiled slightly, but it was difficult to tell because she’d never seen the man smile. Ever.

“I’m not sure your father deserves you, young lady,” Ambrose said finally. “But then, we aren’t allowed to pick family, are we? We’re just stuck with what we get.”

“So true of our families and our family’s friends—” Alexa slammed her mouth shut so quickly that she nearly clipped off the tip of her tongue.

Usually she managed to control her thoughts before they flew from her lips. Indeed, she had years of practice at concealing her true feelings. She blamed her lack of discretion on her apprehension over her father’s continuing conversation with Elliot Webster. Either that or she had stifled her true nature for so long that it was about to burst loose.

Then the most peculiar thing happened. Ambrose Shelton, the persnickety, faultfinding advisor to Harold Quinn, snickered. Even Benjamin Porter halted on his way down the front steps, pivoted and did a double-take.

“Your poor father,” Ambrose said with a slow shake of his wiry red head. “He’s stuck with you and with me. Well, good night then.” He pursed his lips and added, “Perhaps you should put your snippy tongue to bed early.”

What an odd man, she thought as Ambrose waddled off on his tree-stump legs. Benjamin Porter scuttled alongside him, chattering nonstop, same as he did while he labored over accounts that pertained to territorial finances and budgets.

After John Marlow and William Trent, two other members of her father’s advisory committee, said their farewells and ambled off, Alexa turned her full attention to her father. She grimaced apprehensively when her father and Elliot shook hands, and then finally parted company. Alexa stared warily at the tall, swaggering gentleman, who was decked out in the finest evening wear that money could buy. Elliot paused to bow over her hand and kiss her knuckles.

She controlled the shiver of dislike and reminded herself that she had years of experience masking her hidden feelings. However, she was more than a little worried about the outburst that had tumbled off her tongue so carelessly with Ambrose. It was a sure sign that her discontent with her present lifestyle was about to erupt.

“Ah, my lovely Alexa,” Elliot purred. “I shall miss your enchanting company.”

“You’re leaving town?” She tried very hard to keep the hopeful note from flooding her voice.

“Eventually, my dear, yes. I have a mercantile business and a ranch to run in Questa Springs. However, I shall be here until the end of the week. I hope to have the pleasure of your company again before I depart.”

Not if I can avoid it, she thought, but she said, “I’ll look forward to it. However, I must tell you that I have a busy schedule. Obligations to Papa take precedence.”

Elliot’s hazel eyes crinkled at the corners and a lock of thin blond hair tumbled over his forehead as he glanced sideways. “Of course. I understand that your father is a busy man. Invaluable to the citizens of this territory.”

“Extremely invaluable,” she confirmed.

She all but collapsed in relief when Elliot released her hand then lurched around to swagger through the door. “He is going to make some woman an annoying husband,” she said under her breath. “I pray to God that it won’t be me.”

“What do you think of Elliot Webster?” her father asked as he came to stand behind her.

Alexa spoke plainly, just in case her father had ideas about marrying her off to that cocky gent. “I don’t think much of him. Pretentious. Calculating. Premeditated charm so sticky sweet that it gives me an instant toothache and—”

“By all means, don’t hold back, dear,” Harold chuckled. “Ah, where is that tact and diplomacy that I’ve tried so hard to drill into your pretty head?”

She spun to face her father directly. This was a crucial moment and her future might be at stake. This was no time for diplomacy. “You asked for my opinion and I gave it to you. I don’t like Elliot Webster and I can’t imagine that I ever will.”

She stared through the open door, watching a man in a military uniform, whose slight, lean physique seemed familiar to her, approach Elliot. The two shadowy figures spoke briefly before Elliot bounded into the carriage to return to his hotel.

“Webster expressed an interest in you, Lexi.”

“It is not returned,” she reiterated. “We are two entirely different people. At least I like to think I’m not that aloof and annoying.”

Harold’s brown eyes narrowed pensively. “He claims that he’s taken an instant liking to you and that he would like to begin a courtship that leads to marriage.”

Just as I thought, she mused uneasily. “I’m sure his supposed interest in me has everything to do with the prospect of becoming your son-in-law, not my devoted husband.”

And there was the crux of her problem with men. Alexa could never be certain if men liked her for what she was inside or because her father was powerful and influential in the territorial government. She had learned early on that she was viewed as a tool to gain favors from Harold Quinn. She had never forgotten that humiliating lesson five years earlier. Back then, she had been naive and idealistic. Now she understood that love was an illusion and that men saw her as a pawn.

Turning, Harold motioned to Maria Gomez, the housekeeper. “Please bring Lexi and me some coffee. We’ll be in the parlor.”

The Mexican housekeeper strode off as Harold guided Alexa to the tuft chair. “Actually, I’m glad you have no romantic interest in Webster. I don’t know what he’s up to or where he is getting privileged information, but it disturbs me that he knows things the rest of the public doesn’t,” he murmured.

Alexa perked up. Her father seldom took her into his confidence when it came to his business. He was usually too distracted and too busy to notice her in any capacity besides his hostess.

She savored this rare moment and vowed to do whatever was necessary to ease his concerns. She loved her father dearly, even if he had little time to spare her.

“What is it, Papa? You know I will help in any way I can.”

Harold plunked down on the sofa, then expelled a frustrated sigh. “Thank you, honey. But I’ll muddle through. No need to bother you with my concerns.”

Bother me! Include me in your life! Notice me! Please stop overlooking me! “What has Elliot Webster done to draw your concern?” she prodded. “And it best not be entangled with a scheme to marry me. I don’t want him.”

Her decisive tone drew Harold’s attention. He blinked, as if just realizing he had raised a daughter teeming with spirit and fierce independence. “When did this happen?” he mused aloud.

“About twelve years ago when Mama took Bethany and headed back East,” she replied, then wished she’d kept her trap shut. The comment caused her father to wince and shift self-consciously on the couch.

“That fiasco wasn’t fair to you, Lexi. I loved your mother, but I swear I will never understand why she left you behind.”

Alexa clasped her father’s hand, giving it a fond squeeze. “If I had been given a choice I still would have remained here with you,” she insisted. “Now tell me what Elliot Webster has done to upset you.”

Harold blew out his breath and set aside the troubled past. “In addition to his expressed interest in you, he asked about the government contracts to sell livestock to the forts and Indian reservations in the territory. The fact that I’m not satisfied with our last contract with him and have considered finding new suppliers is not common knowledge. I mentioned it at our last meeting. I fear that one of my trusted confidants has been compromised. I’d like to strangle whoever betrayed our policy of keeping such information quiet.”

“I’m not surprised to hear that Elliot has found a mole and that he might be paying for information,” said Alexa. “I don’t trust that man because I get the feeling he always has an ulterior motive.”

She also had a hunch about who might be willing to relay private information for a fistful of money. Ambrose Shelton headed up her short list of suspects. She predicted Ambrose believed himself far more capable of holding a powerful position in the territorial government than her father. Undermining Harold Quinn’s work on various government boards and committees might allow Ambrose Shelton to move up the political ladder. It was speculation, of course, but Alexa would eagerly volunteer to investigate.

“Elliot Webster will be leaving Santa Fe at the end of the week,” Harold continued. “Until he heads south to Questa Springs I will have someone shadow him.”

“Good idea. The sooner you find the snitch the better,” Alexa agreed.

“I also intend to hire an investigator to monitor Elliot’s activities when he returns to Questa Springs,” Harold confided. “I can’t entrust this inquisition to any of my associates, in case one of them is involved. That means I must enlist the help of an outside agent.”

Her father was frowning so intently that Alexa swore he was going to give himself more wrinkles. She could understand his dilemma. Everywhere Harold Quinn went the press followed. He lived under a microscope…Which made the solution to his problem so simple that she could resolve it over their evening coffee.

Excitement bubbled through Alexa while she waited for Maria Gomez to set the silver tray on the coffee table. After the servant retreated, Alexa turned to face her father directly.

“This situation can be resolved easily,” she declared while she watched her father sip his coffee.

Harold sniffed in contradiction. “I hardly think that is possible, my dear. I’m not sure who I can trust.”

“Thank you so much for the insult.”

Harold blinked owlishly then waved her off with a flick of his wrist. “Present company excluded, of course. But this is over your head, Lexi. Besides, I’d shoot myself before I placed you in possible danger.”

There he goes again, ignoring my potential.

“Who better to undertake the task of discreetly hiring an investigator to monitor Elliot’s activities?” Alexa argued. “Even you refuse to consider the prospect of sending a woman to do a man’s job.”

“But I—”

Alexa cut him off with a slashing gesture of her arm. She was bound and determined to present her case without interruption. “Perhaps I could consult the sheriff or city marshal in Elliot’s hometown to hire an investigator. Provided that Elliot doesn’t have the local lawman in his hip pocket.” If Elliot was in the habit of paying for information that was always a possibility. “Now that Elliot has expressed an interest in me, I have the perfect excuse to visit the area. I can pretend an interest in him, too.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Harold objected strenuously.

Alexa’s mind was brimming with possibilities. This was her chance to prove to her father that she had talents and abilities that extended far beyond the skill of drawing up a guest list, organizing seating arrangements and hiring entertainment for social and political gatherings. If she pinpointed the information leak, he might perceive her as what she was—a young woman aching to find a meaningful purpose in her life and accept new challenges.

“It’s perfect,” she enthused. “Kate Hampton, my dearest friend from finishing school, lives near Questa Springs. I can schedule a visit and make myself available for Elliot’s supposed courtship. I can oversee the hiring of an investigator and make certain the man does his job properly. In no time at all we will know who is leaking information to Elliot.”

“No.”

His brown eyes flashed and his thick brows swooped down in a sharp V. However, Alexa was not to be deterred by her father’s evil eye and uncompromising frown.

“I have spent years guarding my tongue and refraining from speaking my mind,” Alexa declared. “Even the pompous asses you deal with on a weekly basis have no idea what I think of them.”

Harold’s brows shot up so quickly that they nearly rocketed off his forehead. “My God, who are you? And what have you done with my daughter?”

Alexa sat up a little straighter on the couch. She batted her blue eyes and smiled sweetly. “Why, Papa, whatever do you mean? I am the same devoted daughter who knows her place and happily remains within the narrow confines men have established for women.”

She was very much afraid her father’s eyes were about to pop from their sockets. She had altered her persona so quickly that he couldn’t keep up. Well, too bad. It was high time Harold Quinn accepted that she had a mind of her own and ached to use it. It was also time that he realized she didn’t intend to live in his shadow, performing mundane social duties when her heart cried out for the chance to pursue a worthwhile cause.

Harold slumped against the sofa and sighed audibly. “I can’t let you do this. I promised myself the day your mother left with Bethany that I would care for, and protect you better than she ever did. I also swore to see you well schooled and properly married. You don’t have to work a day in your life or struggle to attain envied social status. Furthermore, I will not purposely plant you in harm’s way and allow you to deal with investigators of questionable background and few scruples. Bounty hunters and detectives tend to bend the law to suit their purposes.”

“Papa, I regret to inform you that the life you envision for me is in direct contrast to the one I crave for myself.” She stared intently at him as she took both of his hands in hers. “I want to do this for you. I need to do this for you. Who better to guard your back than the one who loves you most? The one who will be loyal and true-blue to the end.”

Harold grimaced. “It better not come to that. I couldn’t live with myself.”

“Please, Papa. Let me prove to you that I am your daughter, not Mama’s. When the going got tough, she packed up and left. I’m still here and I’m strong and capable. I can hire an agent to contact an investigator, who will monitor Elliot’s activities, if that will relieve your concerns.”

She could hire an agent if she were inclined, which she wasn’t. But she wasn’t about to tell her father that. She intended to be actively involved to prove her worth.

“Pretending an interest in Elliot will explain my extended visit to Kate Hampton’s family ranch,” she insisted.

Harold stared at her for so long that she squirmed impatiently. She knew he was struggling to equate his previous expectations of her with the woman who was bearing down on him. When he started to pull his hands away, Alexa clamped on to his fingers and refused to let go.

“I’ll be just fine,” she reassured him. “I can take care of myself. I certainly managed while I was away at school in Albuquerque. Why can’t you see that I’m grown up and champing at the bit to accept this challenge? You accept every challenge that comes your way. And I am the proverbial chip off the block that Mother left behind because I acted too much like you.”

Finally Harold grinned and nodded his head. “I’m glad I don’t have to debate you at board meetings. You’d plow over me.”

Alexa beamed at the rare compliment. Indeed, she lived for moments like this one.

He shook his finger in her face. “But you must promise me that you’ll hire a go-between to meet with the detective. Most of them are glorified gunslingers, paladins and guns-for-hire. Not the sort of scoundrels a lady should associate with. I don’t want you endangered in any way so I’ll send Miguel Santos along as your chaperone and bodyguard.”

Alexa didn’t want her childhood friend and playmate—not to mention her walking conscience—following her around. But she had won the major battle so she conceded this skirmish. “Agreed. After all, Miguel is exceptionally handy with a knife and a fair shot. Not that I can’t handle my own dagger and pistol.”

One dark brow elevated in wry amusement. “Finishing school must have expanded its curriculum.”

“I hounded Miguel until he taught me to use weapons,” she confided. “Every woman should know how to protect herself. A free-spirited woman doesn’t have the time or inclination to wait around for a man to rescue her.”

“This is worse than I thought,” Harold murmured with a bewildered shake of his head. “I have neglected you since I was appointed to this political position that consumes so much of my time and energy.”

That was true, but this conversation went a long way in opening her father’s eyes to the strong-willed twenty-two-year-old woman she had become. He wasn’t overlooking her or misjudging her now. Apparently he was seeing her for what she was and it scared him a little. Alexa, however, was eager to embrace the unknown and the unfamiliar. Her soul craved excitement and adventure.

“I will resolve this problem with Elliot Webster,” she vowed determinedly. “You will know which one of your business associates is passing information. I will expose him for the unscrupulous scoundrel he obviously is.”

Harold looked her over long and hard, as if reevaluating the young woman he thought he knew and understood. “All right, Lexi. But you will only be acting in an advisory capacity. From a safe distance. Let the investigator handle this case. If you come to harm I will never forgive myself. Be careful.”

She smiled brightly, knowing she did not intend to hover on the sidelines during this investigation. She figured that what her father didn’t know wouldn’t worry him. “Elliot Webster won’t suspect my ulterior reason for being in town and that will become his downfall.”

“I hope you’re right about Webster underestimating you.”

Alexa hoped she was, too. Her pride and self-esteem were riding on her ability to complete this assignment. She wanted her father to recognize her worth. She wanted him to be proud and confident in her abilities. If she fell flat on her face, it would be hell to crawl home, ashamed and unsuccessful.

If things went sour, she’d have to take an extended vacation in Europe to nurse her bruised pride.

No more of those negative thoughts, she chastised herself as she mounted the stairs to retire for the night. By damned, this was her golden opportunity and she was going to do her father proud.

She hoped…

Wyatt Cooper swung down from his horse then scanned the scenic canyon north of Questa Springs. There were some spectacular landscapes in the rugged Sacramento Mountain Range that rose up between the Rio Grande and Pecos Rivers. In the distance, he heard the murmur of rapids tumbling down the spring-fed river that meandered toward town. The vibrant colors of sunset splashed across the horizon. The setting was so awe-inspiring that he had to remind himself that he was here on business not pleasure.

Cautious by nature and by habit, he tucked himself beside a pine tree and fished out the card he carried in his vest pocket. For the umpteenth time in a week, he asked himself why he had decided to take this particular assignment. Then he studied the carefully printed card that read like an invitation to a formal social function and he remembered what had piqued his curiosity.

Whoever had contacted him anonymously at his headquarters in Albuquerque had been sending him specific instructions for this secretive rendezvous. Each elaborately written message was as impressively worded as the previous ones.

He figured he’d have to wait until dark to meet his mysterious client. It’s what he would’ve done. Sure enough, the sun dipped behind the looming precipices before a stout, round-bellied man emerged from the bushes. His hat sat low on his forehead. A gray beard and mustache concealed his facial features. Scant light reflected off his wire-rimmed spectacles. He didn’t approach, just lurked by a tree, as if prepared to bolt and run at the first sign of trouble.

“Are you Wyatt Cooper?” The hushed, gravelly voice carried an Eastern accent.

“Yes, but I prefer to be called Coop,” he insisted.

“Very well then, Coop, let’s proceed with our business. I have been hired by my client to contract you to keep surveillance on a man named Elliot Webster.”

Coop nodded his dark head in recognition of the name. Webster owned and operated a mercantile shop in Questa Springs, in addition to a cattle ranch two miles northeast of town. Coop had heard that Webster had gained the reputation of a price gouger and a ruthless competitor who tried to monopolize the dry goods business in the area.

“You want me to document underhanded business dealings?” Coop presumed.

“Yes,” the agent replied. “In addition, my employer wants to know who comes and goes from the store and the ranch. We want to know who contacts Webster personally and professionally.”

Coop arched a thick black brow. “Do you work for a branch of the territorial government?”

“I work for my employer, who will pay you handsomely to keep track of Webster’s associates, on and off his ranch,” the agent said evasively. “I require names and a detailed list of Webster’s activities so I can obtain a clear understanding of his leisure pursuits and business practices.”

The man tossed a stack of banded bank notes into the air. They landed at Coop’s feet, causing his horse to shift uneasily.

“Easy, Bandit,” Coop murmured to his black gelding.

Without taking his eyes off the short, stocky man who clung to the shadows, Coop scooped up the money. He blinked in surprise when he counted five hundred dollars. “I was only going to ask my going rate of two hundred fifty dollars a month.”

“Most detectives only charge one-fifty,” the man pointed out in his arrogant tone and thick Eastern accent.

Coop grinned. “Yeah, but you get what you pay for.”

“Then I expect quick results. I doubled your going rate since I want you to play a certain role while in Questa Springs. Because of your widespread reputation, your arrival in town might draw unwanted curiosity and suspicion. Although you are well-known in this territory, I want you to keep a low profile.”

Coop barked a laugh. “How do you intend for me to accomplish that? Cooper Investigations is a thriving business. And, at six feet two inches tall and one hundred ninety-five pounds, I’m hardly invisible and I don’t blend into a crowd.”

“That’s why I came up with a plan.”

“It better be a damn good one,” Coop smirked as he tucked the money in the pocket of his buckskin vest. “Let’s hear it…”