Free Cooper's Woman by Carol Finch Page A

exceptionally pleased with his timing. From the looks of the intimate dinner, Webster planned to ask for Alexa’s hand. Coop couldn’t think of one reason why he should feel jealous and possessive, but he was, damn it. He didn’t want that intriguing woman to marry this scoundrel.
    Furthermore, where was Miguel Santos, the bodyguard? Had Alexa poisoned him a second night in a row so she could come alone to Webster’s ranch?
    â€œWhat do you want?” Elliot demanded irritably. “As you can plainly see, I’m entertaining an important guest this evening.”
    Coop stuck out his hand, palm up. “Advance pay is my policy,” he announced. “One week’s advance to be specific.”
    Elliot grumbled under his breath but he reached into the pocket of his trousers to retrieve several large bank notes. “Next time I’ll meet you at the line shack on the south edge of my property. At midnight. I don’t want you coming and going from my house. It looks suspicious.”
    Coop shook his head. No way in hell was he going to arrive at the line shack and find himself bushwhacked by Elliot’s henchman or the unidentified colleague. “We’ll meet here or your store or not at all. If you’re going to be contrary I’ll notify the marshal that you’re paying me to find fault with your neighbors’ ranching practices.”
    Elliot puffed up like an offended toad. “I will deny it!”
    Coop shrugged lackadaisically then stretched the truth. “Doesn’t make a damn to me because some of your neighbors want to hire me to check on your ranching practices. I’m a gun for hire and a job’s a job, Webster. I go to the highest bidder.”
    Elliot snapped to attention and his gaze narrowed sharply. “ Who wants to hire you away from me? Hampton? Barrett?”
    â€œClient confidentiality,” said Coop, his hand still outstretched. “So which is it? You or them?”
    Muttering, Elliot slapped the money into Coop’s waiting hand. “You work for me. Now get out of here and do what I’m paying you to do. Find out if my neighbors are guilty of rustling my cattle.”
    In other words, unjustly accuse them of wrongdoing, Coop translated. “Sure, you’re the boss.”
    â€œYou’re damn right I am,” Elliot contended aloofly. “And don’t you forget it.”
    Coop watched Elliot stride quickly across the room to rejoin Alexa. He’d give anything to have the chance to tell her about Webster’s intimate connection to Lily Brantley. Alexa needed to take that into consideration before she accepted or rejected the forthcoming marriage proposal. Although Coop knew he wasn’t the right man for Alexa Quinn, he knew for damn certain that Webster wasn’t, either.
    When Coop hobbled outside, leaning heavily on his cane, Oscar Denton was there to confront him with a sneer and a loaded Colt .45. Coop twirled his cane, knocking the pistol from Denton’s hand. It clattered down the steps and Denton cursed foully.
    â€œWatch where you point that thing,” Coop ordered. “You might shoot someone accidentally.”
    â€œWhen it comes to you, there won’t be anything accidental about it,” Denton sneered as he doubled over to scoop up his weapon. “Next time you go barging in on the boss I’ll drag your dead carcass out by your boot heels—”
    Denton’s voice dried up when he realized Coop had drawn a six-shooter and had buried it in his soft underbelly. Coop had used the art of intimidation against outlaws dozens of times. He didn’t like the looks of this whisker-faced, tobacco-chewing hooligan whose sketch could likely be found on a Wanted poster.
    â€œOne quick shot and I’ll have your job,” Coop threatened. “Doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me, as long as I get paid.”
    Coop retrieved both of Denton’s pistols and