Polly Sanders.
Chapter Three
Later that evening Miguel Santos stared accusingly at Alexa. “You poisoned me!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied as she tucked the quilt under his quivering chin while he lay sprawled on the bed. “Why would I do such a thing?”
“So you can tramp about without me there to tell you that it’s too risky. I—” He moaned miserably and battled to prevent himself from losing his supper.
Alexa patted her friend’s shoulder consolingly, then surveyed the hotel room she had rented when he became ill a half hour earlier. Hurriedly she walked over to fetch a washcloth then dipped it in water so she could wipe Miguel’s clammy face. He looked as peaked as a dark-skinned man could get. Furthermore, his expression was as sour as his upset stomach.
“I did not poison you, Miggy,” she insisted, using the nickname he had acquired as a child.
While she blotted his face, someone tapped lightly on the door. “Who is it?” Alexa called out.
“Kate.” She swept into the room without waiting permission and hovered over Miguel. Her thick-lashed brown eyes were filled with concern. “You poor man. Is there anything I can get for you to make you more comfortable?”
“No, señorita, but thank you for your kind offer. I will live…I hope.”
Kate glanced at the gold-plated watch pinned to her belt. “We need to ride to the ranch before dark, Lexi. There is always the risk of bandits and rustlers in the area. Papa lost five head of cattle last week.”
“Go with her, Lexi,” Miguel beseeched. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m staying with Miguel,” Alexa told her friend. “You have your chaperone for your protection. Miguel and I will ride out to the ranch tomorrow when he’s back on his feet.”
“Are you sure about this?” Kate questioned hesitantly as she backed toward the door.
“Absolutely. I want to be close by so I can check on Miguel.”
“I’m concerned about you,” Kate said. “First you strike up a conversation on the street with that hired gun that everybody is whispering about and now you plan to stay in town when Miguel can’t defend you.”
“I believe those types prefer to be called detectives or investigators.” Alexa tossed Miguel a silencing glance so he wouldn’t chime in and tell Kate that he was worried about her reckless encounter with Coop. “Furthermore, I spoke to the town marshal on the street at the same time and it would have been rude not to speak to Mr. Cooper when he was standing right there.”
“There are certain rules we’re supposed to observe when it comes to our social class,” Kate reminded her dourly. “Never mind that I dislike that one person can’t be kind to another without inviting rumor and gossip. My father harps on the subject constantly and I heard Elliot Webster muttering when you paused to greet the marshal and the gunslinger.”
Alexa gnashed her teeth. Elliot’s snobbery was another of his annoying flaws. The man was lousy with them. Too bad that Kate’s father was also prejudiced.
Kate checked her timepiece again then glanced back at Miguel. “Well, I should be going. Papa is so overprotective that if I’m not home before dark he’ll send out a search party.”
“As well he should,” Miguel murmured weakly. “If I could, I would see you home safely.”
“You are so sweet, Miguel.” Kate surged forward to brush her hand over his forehead. “You have always been wonderful to me. Alexa is so lucky to have you.”
“Which is why I intend to stay at the hotel until he’s feeling better,” Alexa remarked.
She glanced speculatively at Kate then down at Miguel.
“I don’t trust you here,” Miguel said after Kate left.
Alexa tried to look properly affronted. “That doesn’t speak highly of your abilities as a tutor. You taught me to take care of myself. Are you saying that you failed and I’m helpless?”
“I’m saying that you’re too daring for your own good….” His voice trailed off momentarily and he grabbed his belly when another cramp clenched his abdomen. “Go to your own room and stay in it,” he wheezed. “I don’t want you to see me so miserable.”
Alexa pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back to check on you.”
“Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime,” he demanded sickly.
Deciding that she would have the local physician check on Miguel, she hurried off. Although she wasn’t responsible for what was ailing Miguel—as he accused—she did intend to take advantage of the situation. She wanted to know what Elliot did after he closed up shop for the evening. Did he frequent saloons? Hurry back to his ranch? Alexa intended to observe his after-hours routine.
Alexa paid a visit to the doctor then tramped off to position herself in the alley beside Webster’s mercantile shop. She only had to wait a quarter of an hour before Elliot locked the door and strode down the street. Enjoying her new career as a detective, Alexa darted down the alley, following at an inconspicuous distance.
Coop had been off duty at the saloon for over an hour and had dined with Gil at one of the restaurants. He was on his way to the livery stable to fetch Bandit when he spotted Webster—and the fancy-dressed female lurking in the alley. Coop was both surprised and amused at Alexa Quinn’s daring. She was amazingly swift of foot and effective at lurking in the shadows so Webster wouldn’t realize he was being followed.
Although Coop hadn’t given the socialite credit for processing much thought in that pretty blond head of hers, she wasn’t as naive as she let on. Coop veered into the alley to follow the woman who was trailing her soon-to-be-fiancé—or so Webster claimed. When Webster scurried across the street toward the dimly lit brothel on the edge of town, Alexa hiked up her cumbersome skirts and darted toward the side window of the brick building that housed Lily’s Pleasure Resort.
“See anything interesting?” Coop whispered as he stepped up beside Alexa.
She yelped in surprise and clutched her chest. “You scared ten years off my life. What the blazes are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he pointed out.
He grinned at the pinched expression on her shadowed face. Her clipped tone of voice and her unconventional antics offered him insight into this woman’s complex personality. She didn’t seem to fit the expected mold. Which was too bad because he really didn’t want to like this wealthy heiress.
“Sorry, Mr. Cooper. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“No problem. But I’m dying to know why a proper lady is playing Peeping Tom at a bordello window. You might get far more of an education than you bargained for…unless you like to watch.”
“You are an ass,” she sputtered as she brushed past him.
He wasn’t sure if her elbow accidentally
