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“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