Cooper's Woman Read Free Page B

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.
    â€œAre you Wyatt Cooper?” The hushed, gravelly voice carried an Eastern accent.
    â€œYes, but I prefer to be called Coop,” he insisted.
    â€œVery 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.
    â€œYou want me to document underhanded business dealings?” Coop presumed.
    â€œYes,” 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?”
    â€œ 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.
    â€œEasy, 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.”
    â€œMost 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.”
    â€œThen 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.”
    â€œThat’s why I came up with a plan.”
    â€œIt better be a damn good one,” Coop smirked as he tucked the money in the pocket of his buckskin vest. “Let’s hear it…”

Chapter Two
    F rom behind the spectacles, fake mustache and beard, Alexa Quinn appraised the powerfully built gunfighter who loomed in the shadows. She was pleased that her disguise—and the padding that made her appear overweight and barrel-bellied—protected her identity. The less Coop knew about her the better.
    Despite her attempt to focus on the business at hand, her gaze kept wandering over Coop in appreciation. His coal-black hair, vivid green eyes and swarthy complexion had captured her attention when he first reached the rendezvous site. She kept recalling how impressive he looked against the pastel hues of sunset.
    Wyatt Cooper looked to be in his early thirties and he possessed a striking physique. He radiated self-assurance, strength and keen intelligence. Of course, she had checked him out thoroughly before contacting him and