by Carol Finch
“Fine, if it makes you uncomfortable then I won’t. But you need to know that I’m not entirely happy with your betrothal and whatever display of affection you feel is necessary to bestow on Webster for a convincing charade.”
And so, without offering a binding verbal commitment that made either of them vulnerable they agreed to temporary exclusivity. For some reason Alexa found their pact reassuring. Day by day, she was learning that she could trust and depend on Coop. That was a comforting realization because she didn’t feel that way about any other men except her father and Miguel. For entirely different reasons, of course.
“I think we’ve had a productive night so we can conclude our surveillance,” Coop said, breaking into her thoughts. “I’ll check the livery in the morning to see if Norville’s sorrel mare is stabled there.”
“I’ll check the pen behind the brothel on my way into town tomorrow morning. Elliot insists that I take a room at the hotel, because of his ongoing feud with Percy Hampton.”
“Webster mentioned that to me this afternoon, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Coop replied.
She arched a challenging brow. “Why? Are you afraid to allow me to take a room at your hotel? Too close for comfort?”
“Too close for temptation,” he clarified as he reined north. “I’ll escort you to the ranch before I head into town.”
“That isn’t necessary. I’ll be fine,” she insisted.
“Of course you will,” he agreed, though he continued to ride alongside her. “But since we’re partners…temporarily…I have your back.”
She shot him a disgruntled glance. “You’re using that against me,” she accused. “You sneaky rascal.”
She saw his white teeth flash in the moonlight and decided she felt anything but offended by Coop’s protective company. No doubt about it, she was going to miss him like nobody’s business when he concluded this case and he went his own way.
Chapter Twelve
“I don’t care what that damn Elliot Webster says about anything,” Kate muttered resentfully the next morning. “I’d feel better if you remained at our ranch instead of taking a room at the hotel.”
“You have to admit that we can cover more bases if we spread out,” Alexa said reasonably, as she folded her clothes then placed them in her trunk. “You can keep an eye on what’s going on beyond your fences and you can protect your livestock. In the meantime, I can monitor Elliot’s activities and that of his cohort’s without having to explain coming and going from here. I’ll have Miguel assist you whenever possible.”
She watched Kate spin around to fidget with the garments Alexa had neatly packed. “Something wrong?” As if she didn’t know.
“Nothing,” Kate said all too quickly, and without glancing in her general direction.
Alexa let the matter drop, but she had the inescapable feeling that Kate and Miguel had failed the same test of temptation that Alexa had failed with Coop.
After breakfast, Alexa and Miguel loaded the luggage in the carriage and left the ranch. Her suspicions about her best friends’ involvement were further confirmed when Miguel kept silent—a rare occasion—during the jaunt to town. Alexa left him to his thoughts while she made a mental list of tasks she wanted to accomplish that day. She had to compose a telegram to her father—not the one Elliot expected, but a discreet contact to assure him that Elliot would be arrested inevitably and that Hampton and Barrett were good candidates for the government contracts. Then she had to figure out how to keep Selma Mae Fredericks occupied to earn her salary. Alexa also wanted to work in a short nap so she would be alert this evening while she kept surveillance on Elliot, Lily and Norville.
“As soon as we return to Santa Fe I am resigning from my job,” Miguel announced out of the blue.
Alexa’s jaw dropped open and she gaped at him, bewildered. “Good Lord, why? How will I function without you? Surely I’m not that difficult to chaperone and escort, despite your mumbling and grumbling…am I? Papa pays you well and I will be only too happy to supplement your salary if—”
Miguel waved her to silence as he drove toward the edge of town. “I’ve complicated Kate’s life, not to mention my own,” he said grimly. “The best course of action for me, and everyone concerned, is to leave the territory.”
“You are overreacting,” Alexa insisted.
He stared at her, his dark eyes tormented. “You have no idea what I’m reacting or overreacting to.”
She scoffed at him. “Give me a little credit, Miggy. I’m not entirely stupid. In addition, your place is in this territory. Your brothers and their families are in Santa Fe and Albuquerque. Besides, Kate is here.”
“That is the problem,” he burst out. “¡Caramba! What have I done?”
“It’s not the end of the world,” she reassured him.
“No?” His black brows swooped down into a self-deprecating frown. “I should be shoved in front of a firing squad and shot.”
“Right. We should all shoot each other for our lack of self-restraint. That will make everything better.” She smirked.
Miguel jerked to attention. “You and Coop? Hell and damnation!” he exploded.
“Calm down,” she insisted. “It was my doing.”
“Your father will not approve, just as Percy Hampton won’t. Gringo and I are from a different class of people. Now I will have to shoot him and, damn it, I like him!”
“I like him, too, so shooting him is out of the question.”
Alexa glanced sideways, noting they had reached the red light district. She gestured for Miguel to veer east so she could inspect the corral. The sorrel Norville Thomas rode the previous night was not penned up with the other horses. She wondered if he had stayed in town and stabled his mount at the livery. If so, where had Norville taken a room? Or was he on his way back to Socorro to catch a stage that took him to Albuquerque to ride the rails to Santa Fe.
Miguel set aside his misery momentarily and asked, “What are we looking for?”
“The horse used by Elliot’s contact, the man who met him again at the line shack last night,” she explained. “I haven’t gotten get a clear look at him yet, but his name is vaguely familiar. Norville Thomas. Does that ring any bells with you?”
Miguel became pensive then shook his head. “I’m afraid not. But then lowly servants don’t travel in your social circle.”
Alexa rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Honestly, I think I liked you better when you were my worrywart of a conscience.”
“You should have been my nagging conscience when I needed one desperately,” he sulked.
Alexa demanded his full attention by shaking her finger in his face. “Do you love her or not? I mean really love her. Or did you take advantage of her weakness for you?”
When Miguel puffed up like an offended toad Alexa had to bite her tongue to prevent laughing at his expression.
“I would never—” he tried to protest.
She waved him to silence and gestured toward Walker Hotel, urging him down the street. “Stop beating yourself black and blue, Miggy. Kate is a grown woman with a mind of her own, as I am. You can sort this out after we solve this case. Right now, you aren’t going in front of a firing squad and we need to rent rooms. By the way, I volunteered you to escort Kate at night. She will be keeping surveillance on Elliot’s cowhands to ensure they don’t plant evidence of stolen cattle again.”
“Escort her?” he crowed. “That’s what got us into—”
“Shh-shh-shh!” Alexa gave his arm a shake. “We don’t need to attract attention.”
He clamped his mouth shut and drove to the hotel.
“Bring in the luggage, please,” she requested. “I’ll rent our rooms.”
“Make sure mine is on the third floor so I can throw myself out the window,” he mumbled.
Alexa cast him a withering glance then alighted from the buggy without his assistance. She could see that Miguel wasn’t going to be a bit of help until
he came to terms with his affection for Kate.
Good thing Alexa and Coop didn’t have that problem, she mused. They were only working together and enjoying a few temporary benefits—or so she tried to tell herself.
Alexa composed her carefully worded telegram to her father then stepped onto the boardwalk. Elliot was there to follow her around the corner of the town square to make sure she contacted her father.
That was another of Elliot’s personality flaws that annoyed her. He was so determined to manipulate her into marriage that he relentlessly dogged her steps to the telegraph office.
“It shouldn’t be long now, my dear,” Elliot said confidently as he strutted alongside her. “We can plan our town-wide celebration for this weekend.”
“That is much too soon,” she insisted authoritatively. “Trust me, I have scheduled functions and activities for years. I will need more than a week to make all the necessary arrangements.” She opened the door then turned back to Elliot. “I will be back outside shortly.”
When she exited the telegraph office a few minutes later, she spotted Selma Mae walking toward Miguel, who waited in front of the hotel. “Yoo-hoo!” she called out.
When she waved her arms in expansive gestures, Selma Mae spun toward her. The older woman smiled in welcome, but her expression sobered when she noticed Elliot.
“We’ll serve free food at our soiree,” Alexa told Elliot, after noting Selma Mae’s lukewarm reaction.
“I’m not sure the extra expense will be necessary,” Elliot remarked.
“Of course it is,” she enthused. “If you want to acquire friends and customers you must feed them.” Especially in Elliot’s case. He wasn’t a popular personality in town.
Alexa more or less dismissed Elliot in favor of speaking to Selma Mae. After he swaggered back to his store, Alexa explained Selma Mae’s new tasks. The older woman pulled a face.
“Writing invitations for a celebration to announce your betrothal to Webster might be better suited to someone else,” she said in her thick Swedish accent. “Begging your pardon, missy, but you know I have no regard for that man. You can do so much better.”
“Nevertheless I am placing you in charge of speaking to the newspaper office about printing invitations.”
It was at that exact moment that Coop ambled from the café. Instant longing hit Alexa like a blow to the chest. Every time she stared into those vivid green eyes and that suntanned face, her heart flip-flopped.
This isn’t fair, she mused irritably. She had come here to help her father and to prove her worth. Nevertheless, the sight of this ruggedly handsome, raven-haired gunfighter never failed to distract her.
“Missy?” Selma Mae gave her a nudge to gain her attention.
Alexa dragged her gaze from Coop. “Yes?”
“I asked if you had set a date for this celebration.”
After Coop limped past her with barely more than a nod of recognition, as was expected of him, Alexa managed to turn her attention to Selma Mae. “It will be a week from Saturday. We can cater food from all the restaurants, so as not to offend anyone.”
“Clever,” said Selma Mae, smiling reluctantly.
“We’ll need the marshal’s permission to cordon off the street around the town square for dining and dancing. I’ll check on that before you order the invitations. We’ll need musicians, too.”
“There are two bands who play for holiday celebrations,” Selma informed her.
“Then we’ll hire both of them and they can perform on opposite corners of the square.”
Selma Mae smiled approvingly. “You are very good at this, missy. I can’t imagine what you have forgotten.”
“Tables and benches,” Alexa told her. “I’ll have Miguel purchase planks and sawhorses from the lumberyard. We must contact the bakery to make several cakes and pies. The local saloons can provide wine.”
“My goodness, so much to do.” Selma Mae blinked, clearly overwhelmed.
Alexa patted her arm as they walked down the street. “No need to fret. We have several days. I’ll check with Marshal Henson for permission to hold the party then visit the restaurant owners while you order the invitations and contact the musicians.”
As Selma Mae marched off, taking her duties quite seriously, Alexa smiled impishly. If her luck held, this town-wide celebration would take place at Elliot’s financial expense and he would view it from inside a jail cell.
This was the first party in years that Alexa actually looked forward to organizing.
Alexa found Marshal Henson at his desk shuffling papers. He smiled cordially when she swept into his office.
“How may I help you, Miss Quinn?” Gil asked as he rose respectfully to his feet.
“I’m here to ask permission to seal off the street around the town square for a city-wide celebration set for a week from this Saturday,” she requested of the golden-eyed peace officer whose reddish-blond mane was sorely in need of clipping.
Gil was a rugged-looking man who reminded her of Coop. No doubt, they had battled the elements in the wilderness as often as they had clashed with thieves and cutthroats.
He grinned wryly and crow’s-feet crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Why? So you can step into the crossfire during another explosive feud?” He gestured toward the empty chair then took his seat behind the desk. “I hope you realize that you took a terrible risk during the confrontation at Hampton’s ranch.”
Alexa fluffed her dress and pretended to flick at a piece of lint on her puffy sleeve. “I couldn’t let Elliot and Percy shoot each other over a few silly cattle, now could I? Besides, it was all so dramatic and exciting that I couldn’t help leaping into the fracas. It is one of my worst faults, you see.”
Gil leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers and regarded her thoughtfully. Alexa mustered her most charming smile and flicked her wrist to dismiss whatever thought Gil was mulling over.
“The thing is, Elliot and I want to invite the entire town to dine and dance the night away in celebration of our betrothal.”
His expression fell like a rockslide, indicating that he wasn’t pleased by the news, either. “Are you sure you wanna do that, ma’am?”
“Have a party? Why, of course. I live for parties, you know.”
“No, I’m referring to the betrothal,” he clarified. “I don’t want to see you hurt unnecessarily. Maybe it’s not my place to tell you, but someone needs to. Webster’s reputation in town isn’t as good as he probably led you to believe. Also, he pays regular visits to the district north of town. In case you haven’t heard, Elliot is very friendly with Lily, the tainted flower, who runs one of the houses of ill repute. She and her two sisters own establishments in the territory and they do a thriving business.” He stared meaningfully at her. “I wouldn’t hold high expectations of fidelity for Webster if I were you.”
She arched a challenging brow. “Why, Mr. Henson, I was not aware that you moonlighted as a marriage consultant. Or is this one of your duties as a law officer? Is this an ordinance that applies exclusively to Questa Springs or the entire county?”
Gil chuckled and shook his shaggy head. “Are all debutantes as witty and clever as you? Or are you the exception?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” She gave him her best impression of a dense stare. “But I would like permission to host a party at Elliot’s expense. May I go ahead with my plans?”
He perked up immediately. “Webster is footing the bill, you say?”
“Right down to the last penny,” she assured him.
“All right, then. It’s your life and your engagement. I suppose I should congratulate you on your upcoming wedding.”
“It would be the polite thing to. It’s much better than lecturing me on my choice of a husband.” She surged to her feet. “But I forgive you. And you are personally invited to attend the celebration.”
“I’ll be there with bells on,” Gil said.
Alexa glanced over her shoulder to appraise the marshal. She h
ad the inescapable feeling that she had exposed her true personality to him one time too many since her arrival in town. He had been on hand when she clashed with Harlan Fredericks and then he had escorted her through town when she checked on Selma Mae after she’d missed work. In addition, he had seen her thrust herself between two feuding ranchers to stop a senseless range war.
Halting at the door, Alexa pivoted to face Gil directly. He seemed an honest sort and Coop was certain that his former associate and friend wasn’t on Elliot’s payroll. “In case things go badly at some point in the near future, I ask that you avenge me, Gil Henson. I would be honored to call you friend.”
His thick brows rose to his hairline. “Ma’am?”
Alexa grinned wryly. “Don’t play stupid with me, either. I’ll see you at the party with your bells on.”
When Gil chuckled in amusement, Alexa spun to exit. The door opened unexpectedly, jerking the knob from her grasp. She glanced up to see a military officer poised in front of her. While he looked her up and down, she did a quick appraisal of his crisp-looking uniform, his sheathed sword, pistol and polished boots.
“Excuse me, miss.” The officer dropped into an exaggerated bow. “May I accompany you to your next destination?”
“No need, sir,” she said, flashing the coy smile men expected from her. “But thank you for your kind offer.”
“Miss Alexa Quinn, may I introduce Lieutenant Arnold Gunther from nearby Fort Stanton. I contacted him after the clash between Webster and Hampton…just in case more trouble arises.”
“It is my pleasure to meet you, Miss Quinn,” the tall, trim lieutenant murmured as he doubled at the waist to brush a kiss over her fingertips. “I was unaware that we had such a lovely addition to this community.”
Alexa tired of his fawning flattery immediately. He reminded her of the men she knew in Santa Fe. She frowned when she noticed his shiny boots for the second time. They had been polished until they glistened. She wondered what other fetish plagued the officer, besides a preoccupation with his footwear.
“Please excuse me, gentlemen. I have several errands to attend,” she said, withdrawing her hand from Gunther’s clinging grasp. “Good day.”